I do believe in writing The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that Robert Louis Stevenson is the one person in the whole world who got away with using this gem of a line:
“If he be Mr. Hyde,” he had thought, “I shall be Mr. Seek.”
Like with many classics that are so well-known, I already knew the basics of this novel. But, again, with many classics that are so well-known, when you actually read them, it’s always different from what you thought.
In the introduction it’s mentioned that Stevenson believed that fiction shouldn’t be a transcription of life, which I found to be interesting considering how often I hear, “this just isn’t realistic,” in the writing world.
Stevenson took the concept of two men in one body, the struggle of good and evil in humanity, and created something that wasn’t a transcription of real life.
Dr. Jekyll in experimenting with this idea of two natures finds himself physically changed when separating them. When Jekyll transformed into Mr. Hyde I thought the most interesting part was how his physical characteristics became evil incarnate. Basically, ugly and instantly hated. But I wondered – why was the Jekyll not changed when the evil was separated from him?
Mr. Hyde is associated with freedom, or lack of obligation. None of what Hyde does is blamed on Jekyll, which…I mean it is still his fault that the nature of Hyde exists outside of a balanced good.
The conclusion was the only possible one, that of a extinguishing of both natures if they do not coexist. The indulgence of evil leads to a consuming evil, therefore Jekyll would cease to exist.
What’s interesting to me isn’t necessary the concept of the struggle of these two natures, because I think that struggle is present in many novels. However, in splitting the two it showed that the balance of those two natures is what’s important. You can’t have good without evil, evil without good.
Overall, I did think I’d like it more than I did. What Kept me from really getting into it was the storyline dragged. Instead of intensifying the story it fell a little flat for me.
Yes! RLS drags. My daughter had to read this a few years ago for summer reading, and it bugged her. I agree. I wonder about our “great books,” and how many of them hold up to repeated readings. As an English teacher I hate feeling that a novel is not moving. I am a built in perfect audience; if a book fails me, what will it do to my students? Yes, there is some worthwhile philosophy here— and the book reads marginally better if you do not know the secret—and RLS keeps the game afloat. Nonetheless, if you do, yawn.
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So far this is the first one that really bored me. I loved both Dracula and Frankenstein, both of which I already knew the basics to. For this one it would be hard for anyone not to know the secret, especially if they read the introduction, which explains most of the story before you jump into the story yourself.
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I’ve steered clear of classics for a long time. Since high school and the few I read, they’re just never as dynamic as later novels. I’ve grown to used to Dean Koontz and Patricia Cornwell, I think.
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Ah, nooooooo. I’m complete opposite. I’ve been reading so many “classics” – let’s just say older – books that I’m having a hard time connecting to anything contemporary that’s fiction. Not as dynamic? I’d argue that the newer the less so…
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Generally, Stevenson doesn’t drag. Treasure Island and Kidnapped both run along quite well. But DJ&MH is of a radically different style from either of those adventure stories. It’s much more an allegory; indeed, it’s a rewrite of of Stevenson’s original lost story.
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Right, I can see those novels being much different.
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