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I'm rather loving the story, but the language is making reading a bit of a chore. Especially once the dialogue started, it really makes it harder.

The story is carried forward by the exquisite descriptions of emotions, urges, fears, drives, etc. The characters are solidly presented. My only issue, as is always the case with writings of that era, is the convoluted format of sentences that are too long andade of smaller intermixed sentences. The archaic language also makes it harder to read at any sort of pace.

I can easily imagine that I would probably not have enjoyed this, if I had read it much younger. However, at this point, the writing is so beautiful that I feel both for the old man and the fish itself.

I was absolutely loving the story, characters, interactions, plot, etc. and then chapter 11 happened. I gave up twice before coming back with stubborn drive to just get the chapter out of the way. So much detailed information on Dorian's obsessions, it was soul suckingly exhausting.

I'm really liking this story. However, as I said before, just like in the case of Frankenstein, the written story is a lot different than the pop culture story we are all familiar with. There's a lot more philosophical and anthropological endeavours than the mere aging portrait.

I've known the story, or, better, the main points of the story, and yet, reading this is very different to what I'd thought it'd be. I feel the same way I felt when reading the story of Frankenstein. It seems like in both cases, the soul of the stories has been stripped away from the pop culture remnants that we all are familiar with. Shame really, but wonderful to read.

I'm heartily enjoying this one. This takes me back to the writing, the use of language and wordy choices that were prevalent in Frankenstein and works by Poe and Lovecraft. Also, as this comes after the hound of the baskervilles, which I didn't particularly enjoy, it takes me back to really investing in the story characters just like Daphne du Maurier's work did.

This is indeed a lot different to Rebecca. The writing is a lot more immediate, the pace is a lot more persistent, but, dare I say, the whole affair feels a lot more superficial. Unfortunately, I have felt zero connection to the mystery/suspense. It reads fast, it is quite enjoyable, but I'm disconnected.

Just a quick skim of the first chapter. Reading this after Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca is a significant change of pace.

One of the best books I have read so far. The way it went from a character study to mystery/crime was shockingly good.

A few very intense moments I these pages, intense feelings, negative ones, friction running deep and personal emotions being very intensely on display. I still don't have the slightest idea if this is just a romance or whether there's a crime involved. Bizarre.

The way characters are brought to life is beyond good, it is impossible. Very true to life, very present and with the accompanying inner feelings and thoughts of the main character, the book becomes a very immediate experience.

The way Daphne writes of the various internal battles of the main character and the descriptions of the interactions with other characters are nothing short of amazing.

Daphne's writing is exquisite. It affects me though, it digs through me and burrows to my younger years and fills me up with melancholy.

I had to go back and reread a couple of chapters after a few weeks of not reading. I tremendously enjoy Daphne's writing and how in tune she was with psychological reactions to even the slightest of the daily interactions.

Honestly, Daphne's writing is absolutely beautiful. Not just the words, but also the way she conveys internal battles and unspoken worries and anxieties. The constant fluctuation from positive and hopeful to negative and worrisome. I don't think I have ever before come across something so psychological. Everything in this book is emotion.

I was somewhat worried that this would not be of interest to me. However, the exquisite descriptions and representation of Mrs Van Hopper have kept my interest piqued. Such very critical eye and obvious handle over the language to be able to portray such a character so well. Ufff.

Just read the first short chapter to get an idea of what the book reads like. I like the shorter sentences and the descriptions. I still think it is a bit on the longer side, I prefer books under 400 pages. Anyway, it's my first Daphne du Maurier, I hope I'll enjoy it.

Jesus. This guy, Polidori, ugh, makes me feel like I'm back to studying English for the first time. The longest sentences, the peculiar word placement, he makes it so hard to relax and enjoy. It's a bit of a job. Anyway. Disregarding how uncomfortable it is trying to rearrange the words in a more sensible order, the story infuses interest into a well known classic myth.

This is taking me a considerable time to finish. The very many different POVs that are all narrated in the first person is, to me, tiresome. There was also a couple of dips in interest and seemed to last for a bit. Anyway, I'll say it again, the book is nothing like the movies. About 20% similarity, if that.

The more I read, the more different the story feels to the legend of Frankenstein and the cinematographic representations. This reads a lot more like the story of anyone created much more sensitive, compassionate, fragile and sympathetic than the mean average and then is struck with the cruelty of the world. It is a lot less about giving life than it is about the horrors of life.

Arms now, pages before the halfway mark, we meet, for the first time, Frankenstein's monster. Who, not only can talk, but can utter sensible and moving arguments betraying mental acuity. The monster is depicted as unable to speak in the movies and adds to its misery and torment. Interested to see how this exchange with his creator will play out.

One would have thought that even by the rule of probabilities, at least one of the Frankenstein movies would have at least resembled to the actual text. However, the book reads as a different story, the only common ground being Victor Frankenstein and the allusion to the creation of the beast, which in the book might even be an internal personal affliction, an illusion of V. Frankenstein.

I kept rereading this chapter. A bit tiresome, the language. Harder to understand the exact meaning. I've also been very tired and battling migraines, which may partially be to blame.

Chapter 3, a few pages past its middle, is the first utterance of the name Frankenstein. And chapter 3 is absolutely wonderfully written. The various emotional vacillations are masterfully presented and read as natural evolutions of the young character's growth.

You get to the end of chapter two and then you realise that this might be Frankenstein indeed. However, this is written a lot more like the Re-Animator than any Frankenstein movie you've ever seen. It's very different from what one would expect it to be based on the movies. I'm enjoying this.

Had I read this first chapter without knowing which book it belonged to, never in a billion years would I have guessed Frankenstein. The recounting tone and the journey to Antarctica, as well as the human faults discussed, are more reminiscent of Lovecraft or Poe. However, not as successful with the torment and desire, anxiety and everything else trademarked by the aforementioned two.

Oh wow. Okay. So the story picked up and a lot has happened in these pages. And as the 5th chapter ends, we learn that the underground people are Morlocks and the surface people are Eloi. Terms famously known and yet I didn't remember that this book, the time machine, was the source from which they came.

Okay, I'm way too early in the story, so I'll reserve judgement. However, so far at least, this doesn't feel like a "1001 books you must read before you die" book. This may be hubris to utter, but that's how it feels. I want case, the time traveling recounts are about to start, so maybe my interest will pique.