conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a story about Mary, Frankenstein, Bennet with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this story could be 'Pride and Prometheus'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Pride and Prometheus
  Captain Walton raised his teacup, held in the thumb and first two fingers—the only fingers that remained—of his right hand. "Frostbite," he said, and winked at Mary.
  Walton was happy to tell his story, as it seemed he must have more than once before. He explained how his poetic nature had been attracted to the notion of discovering a land of eternal light, and the source of the power that commands the compass needle, at the pole. But in the event, the ship he had hired and crew he had assembled found themselves frozen tight in the arctic wasteland long before Walton had reached his goal.
  Mary was intrigued. Captain Walton's manner was so affable, his voice so full of mystery. Mrs. Saville, though she must have heard all of this before, listened indulgently to her brother. "Please, go on," Mary said.
  Captain Walton proceeded to relate the story that Mary had heard years before from both Victor and his Creature. Dramatically, Walton lingered over the extraordinary circumstance of Victor's discovery of the secret of life and his creation of a monster. He watched Mary's eyes, prepared for skepticism, but she was too troubled to feign astonishment at something she knew to be fact. Walton's narrative closely resembled what Mary already knew, but she appeared nowhere in it, nor any woman who might have been Mary. And there was nothing in the tale of bringing Eve to life, or of her death. To hear Walton tell it, Victor had earned the eternal enmity of his monster by dismembering his female before he had brought her to life.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' What about them? Hadn't they deserved better?'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The long summer day was declining, and the sun setting over the sea. The mild evening breeze from offshore, running up the lane, brushed Mary's face. With the coming of evening, people were returning to the busy town from a day at the seaside. There was to be a ball at the Assembly Rooms that evening; the front door of the hall was open and people bustled in and out, making preparations.
  She walked down to the harbor, a woman alone in the gathering dusk. Even in a town as placid as Lyme Regis, even for an aging spinster as established as Mary, this was behavior that she would have questioned when she was a girl. It was not so much the danger of the world that Mary had been aware of, as the importance of propriety. She knew now that much of propriety consisted of a veil of hypocrisy over self-interest. The machine of society was prepared to grind those without money or powerful friends exceedingly fine if they should disregard the shibboleths of the righteous. It remained true that to discard propriety was to put oneself at risk, whether or not one ended up strangled.
  The longer she thought of Walton's story, the angrier Mary became. Victor and Adam had followed a direct path from the place she had left them, precisely the same course they had been on before she had entered their lives. For a time it had seemed to her that they might turn to a different, happier fate—though who could know where any path leads in the end? Still, there was little doubt where following the impulses of hatred and revenge led. In the case of Frankenstein and his creation, they had led exactly where they ought—to desolation and the grave.
  Mary's intervention had been their last chance to avoid this. She had put herself between them expecting to keep them sane. It was a terribly foolish, dangerous thing for her to do. She'd had no idea with what or whom she was dealing. How idiotic she had been, so blinded by her own hopes.
  Yes, and still what she had told them to do was the right thing, the practical thing, the just thing. She had been a voice speaking from outside the drama that took place inside their heads. She had given them good counsel. And why should a woman have to do that, prevent men from killing each other? The true idiocy of their tragedy was that it did not have to happen. Victor and Adam had constructed it by their own choices, out of their inability to believe in the existence of anyone but themselves. William, Justine, Henry, Elizabeth, Victor's father. Eve. What about them? Hadn't they deserved better?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last two paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or business@simonandschuster.com.
  Identifiers: LCCN 2017023614 (print) | ISBN 9781481481496 (eBook) | ISBN 9781481481472 (hardcover : acid-free paper)