Abstract

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Last Man by Mary ShelleyJennifer A. Wagner-LawlorMary Shelley. The Last Man. 1826. Edited by Chris Washington. Norton Critical Editions. New York: W. W. Norton, 2023. xxiv + 571 pp. Paperback, ISBN 9780393887822.New critical editions of well-known literary works serve several important functions, and those designed specifically for students serve two of the most important: to introduce readers to texts that were overlooked during and since the author’s time, but that might find greater favor today; and to re-introduce to a new generation of students classic texts that have lost critical favor or been neglected. Mary Shelley’s The Last Man (1826) is a novel long overshadowed by brilliance and resilient legacy of her first novel, Frankenstein (1818), written at a mere eighteen years of age. As so often happened to nineteenth-century women who published under their own names, both Frankenstein and The Last Man were hammered critically by male reviewers (and often by the few female ones) unable to believe any woman, and certainly no “good” woman, could compose these stories. And by 1826, Mary Shelley had already gained notoriety thanks to her association with the radical politics and “free-loving” Shelley-Byron circle). No wonder then that contemporaneous reviewers—even as they brought themselves to compliment the narratological and formal accomplishment the novel represents—could not countenance either its content or its author, as the novel “violated” certain forms of literary and gender propriety: indeed, the novel was deemed the product of a “diseased imagination” (The Monthly Review).Modern assessments of the novel are far more admiring of Shelley’s sophisticated examination of national and cultural mythic structuralizations, and receptive to the boldness of Shelley’s profoundly ironical assessments of them. In this new Norton Critical Edition of The Last Man, Chris Washington comes to the text with a refreshingly undeferential approach to Shelley’s Romantic forebears and immediate companions. Not because they [End Page 582] deserve being knocked off their pedestals, but because—granting all that—Shelley’s text has a lot more to give to us. This is the first time the Norton Critical Edition series has produced an annotated critical edition of The Last Man (Broadview’s appeared in 1996), and it is therefore both welcome and well overdue. For this reader, The Last Man is in some ways arguably superior to Frankenstein, certainly better written and developed. Frankenstein packs the greater punch, but The Last Man picks up and reweaves, on a much larger loom, the same thematic threads: justice and judgment; hospitality and generosity; family love and ethical obligation to community and nation; “civilized” and “wild” spaces. These themes are figured not only in terms of landscape but also in terms of geopolitical organization (i.e., the West vs. “the East,” presumed source of the virus); the bounded- vs. unbound-ness of the creative imagination (also tied to cultural notions of civilization and wilderness); solitude and loneliness; alienness and otherness; alienation and self-alienation and/as dehumanization; the human and the posthuman. While part of Frankenstein’s greatness is its narrative concision and stylistic spareness, the greatness of The Last Man, written by the more mature writer, intellectually and technically (and without the interference of Percy Shelley), is how fully Shelley “fleshes out” those entanglements in this later novel.Setting aside therefore the inclusion of “the usual suspects” (xx) of earlier editions, Washington gives space to critical approaches that are not focused so intensely on the influences of Shelley’s biography. In an excellent introduction Washington emphasizes the various ways in which this novel opens up to (still) intractable political and human rights issues: slavery, imperialism, nonheteronormative genders and sexualities, and precarious lives.Washington addresses particularly what Shelley’s text has to offer—and does offer—to today’s students. He shares his own experience of teaching this novel during COVID times, finding the students, used to speed of communication and multimedia delivery, resistant initially to the narrative’s pacing, and reintroducing them to the pleasures of the slow build-up of plot and setting, as well as the excruciating tension of watching a slow-burn approach to seemingly unavoidable catastrophe. But Washington rejects...