Mary Shelley’s creation has come unstuck in time. He lives in New York or did until recently. He passes Tower Records, a Duane Reade drugstore.
Sheck’s novel acknowledges Google searches. Wikipedia. Redirections. All this webwork.
“A Monster’s Notes” is an uncommonplace book. A site for revision, translation, error, confusion, melancholy. Limits of this method. Book is over 500 pages long, not without longueurs. (Could it have worked at 100 pages, at 50?) But heft becomes crucial to the experience. To exhaust the metaphors and the monster.
Are these my real notes or the ones I will publish? Which version has more energy?
Actually, the more I think about it, this might be the coolest thing I’ve read in weeks.