It was 11 PM on a Tuesday. I was staring at a stack of essays on The Great Gatsby that I really, really didn't want to grade. Outside my apartment, the wind off Lake Michigan was howling against the windows—which, honestly, is the only way to properly experience the opening of Frankenstein.
Because let's be real: this isn't the Halloween monster movie my students think it is. (Every year, I have to explain that Frankenstein is the doctor, not the monster. Every. Single. Year. It's a losing battle.)
I needed a break from the Green Light, so I switched over to Mary Shelley's frozen wasteland. And look, I've read this book a dozen times. I've taught it until I'm blue in the face. But listening to it? Especially this version by Cori Samuel? It hit different.
The Voice of Doom (But Make It Soothing)
Here's the thing about Gothic literature: it's melodramatic. It's full of fainting and fever dreams and guys shouting at mountains. If a narrator goes too big with it, it sounds ridiculous. If they go too flat, you fall asleep.
Cori Samuel threads this needle in a way I didn't expect. Her voice is... calm. Like, surprisingly calm. At first, I was worried. I thought, "Where's the angst? Where's the 'It's Alive!' energy?" (Spoiler: That line isn't even in the book).
But about an hour in—somewhere around Victor's college days—I realized why it works. The story is a tragedy, not an action movie. Samuel reads with this melancholic, steady rhythm that feels like a funeral dirge. It's beautiful, honestly. She understands that the horror here isn't jump scares; it's loneliness. When she voices the Creature, she doesn't do a goofy monster growl. She sounds articulate and heartbroken. It made me actually sympathize with the guy. Which is the point.
(Though, I'll admit, her pacing is deliberate. If you listen at 2.0x speed, you're dead to me, but for this one? I might forgive you for bumping it to 1.1x. Just a little.)
1818 vs. The World
This recording uses the original 1818 text, not the 1831 revision most people know. As an English teacher, I have to geek out on this for a second. The 1818 version is rawer. Victor has less of a "destiny" excuse and is just more of a jerk who refuses to take responsibility for his actions.
Samuel captures that arrogance perfectly. There were moments listening where I wanted to reach through my AirPods and shake Victor Frankenstein. "You made a giant man out of graveyard parts and then ghosted him? What did you think was going to happen, man?"
The fact that Mary Shelley wrote this at 18 years old... it hurts my soul. My 18-year-old students are currently writing essays about how "Gatsby just loved too hard." Shelley was writing about the god-complex of modern man and the inevitable destruction of innocence. Levels.
The "Vibe" Check
I'm not gonna lie to you—this isn't a thrill ride. There are long sections of descriptions of the Swiss Alps. There are philosophical monologues that go on for pages.
If you're coming off a diet of modern thrillers where there's a cliffhanger every four pages, you might bounce off this. It requires patience. It demands you sit still. I listened while walking the dog (sorry, Buster, short walk, it's freezing) and found myself just stopping to look at the gray sky.
Some reviewers said Samuel is "monotone." I get that critique, I do. She doesn't do wild character voices. But I think "monotone" is the wrong word. Samuel does something similar in Black Beauty, where her restrained delivery actually amplifies the emotional weight. It's atmospheric. It's soothing in a way that makes the disturbing parts creep up on you. Like a lullaby that ends with a murder.
Who Should Listen (And Who Should Skip)
This audiobook saved my Tuesday night. It reminded me why I torture teenagers with this book every fall. It's not about the monster; it's about what happens when we refuse to take care of the things we create.
If you want a polished, full-cast audio drama with sound effects, look elsewhere. Same goes if you need constant action to stay engaged. But if you want to feel cold, lonely, and intellectually stimulated while folding laundry—or if you're an English teacher avoiding a stack of essays—this is the one.
(And Principal Martinez, if you're reading this... I was definitely grading those essays the whole time. Definitely.)
