It's alive. Oh God, it's alive.
Can a monster pray?
The creature invented by Mary Shelley was not the shambling mumbling monster from the movies (apologies to Mr. Karloff). Shelley's creature learned to reason and speak with his ear to the cabin wall of a family who lived in the woods. He learned to read when he discovered a leather satchel full of books in that same forest.
What if one of those books was a Bible?
He had no memories, no sense of identity, and his only understanding of people came when they ran screaming from his face. How would this creature understand the word "father?" How would he comprehend "creator?" How would Frankenstein's monster pray?
Wouldn't this being of rage and pity ask all the same questions of God that we do? Who am I? What is my purpose? Do you love me? How can you possibly love me?
Imagine unearthing a collection prayers written by the monster and somehow hidden behind the wall of a rectory in England. The Frankenstein Book of Prayer follows Shelley's original tale and invites us into the soul of one of literature's most tragic and misunderstood characters.