A creature opens its yellow eyes in a laboratory and reaches for the hand of the man who made it, and the man recoils. Mary Shelley was eighteen when she began the novel that would invent science fiction, gothic horror, and one of the most enduring myths of the modern world. Published in 1818, Frankenstein is a nest of narratives: an explorer's letters frame a scientist's confession, which frames the creature's own anguished testimony. The monster is eloquent, well-read, and desperate for love. His maker is brilliant, reckless, and incapable of responsibility. Shelley wrote a parable about creation and abandonment that loses none of its power. To make something live and then refuse to love it: this is the sin the novel will not forgive.