A review by lucas_lex_dejong
The Last Man by Mary Shelley
3.0
There is a phenomenal book buried in the bloat. Of the 3 volumes, volume 1 is given over entirely to a silver-spoon drama establishing the characters, but unlike Austen or Brontë, I can't say that it made for a compelling narrative.
When the story is on-point, it is a revelation (pun intended), and carries horror, drama, tension, and awe all at once.
As a story, it runs through so many of the features which would one day become tropes: from denialism, to lawlessness, to migration, to compulsive leisure, to a sublime quietude, that it seems the entire post-apocalyptic genre owes itself to this one book.
However, I given the bloat and repetition, I think it is better viewed with a sense of forgiveness for these flaws, as an ode to the early death of the Romantic movement. With characters directly representing Percy Shelley & Lord Byron, this seems more a loving ode and even mythologising of their greatness, as well as a protracted eulogy of grief from Mary Shelley, who - amongst all these titans - survived them all, and was The Last Man.
When the story is on-point, it is a revelation (pun intended), and carries horror, drama, tension, and awe all at once.
As a story, it runs through so many of the features which would one day become tropes: from denialism, to lawlessness, to migration, to compulsive leisure, to a sublime quietude, that it seems the entire post-apocalyptic genre owes itself to this one book.
However, I given the bloat and repetition, I think it is better viewed with a sense of forgiveness for these flaws, as an ode to the early death of the Romantic movement. With characters directly representing Percy Shelley & Lord Byron, this seems more a loving ode and even mythologising of their greatness, as well as a protracted eulogy of grief from Mary Shelley, who - amongst all these titans - survived them all, and was The Last Man.