Let’s talk about Mary Shelley. Not the sanitized, “let’s-pretend-she-was-a-demure-lady-writer” version of her, but the real Mary—the one who ran off with a married poet at 16, wrote one of the most iconic novels in history at 18, and spent the rest of her life being a total icon.
Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (later Shelley) was born in 1797 to two of the most radical thinkers of her time: feminist philosopher Mary Wollstonecraft and political writer William Godwin. Her mother died shortly after her birth, but her legacy of challenging the status quo lived on in Mary. By the time she was a teenager, Mary was already a rebel. She fell in love with Percy Bysshe Shelley, a married poet with a flair for drama and a habit of abandoning responsibilities. (Spoiler: he was kind of a mess.) But Mary didn’t care. She ran away with him, scandalizing society and setting the stage for a life that was anything but ordinary.
Now, let’s talk about the summer of 1816—the infamous “Year Without a Summer.” Thanks to a volcanic eruption in Indonesia, the weather across Europe was apocalyptic. Dark skies, endless rain, and unseasonable cold created the perfect backdrop for a group of writers to hole up in a villa by Lake Geneva and tell ghost stories. Among them were Mary, Percy, Lord Byron, and John Polidori.
It was Byron who suggested they each write a ghost story. Mary, initially struggling to come up with an idea, had a waking nightmare that would change literature forever. She envisioned a scientist who created life—a creature both pitiful and monstrous. That nightmare became Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus.
But here’s the thing: Frankenstein wasn’t just a spooky tale. It was a deeply philosophical exploration of creation, ambition, and the consequences of playing God. Mary drew on the scientific debates of her time—galvanism, the nature of life, and the ethics of experimentation—and wove them into a story that asked questions we’re still grappling with today. What happens when science outpaces ethics? What does it mean to be human? And who’s really the monster—the creator or the creation?
Mary wrote Frankenstein at 18. Let that sink in. Most of us were still trying to figure out how to do laundry at that age, and Mary was out here creating a literary masterpiece.
But Mary’s life wasn’t all literary acclaim and romantic escapades. She faced immense personal tragedy. She lost three of her four children, and Percy Shelley drowned when she was just 24. Yet, through it all, she kept writing. She edited Percy’s work, wrote her own novels, and became a fierce advocate for her own legacy. She wasn’t just Percy Shelley’s widow; she was Mary Shelley, damn it.
Mary Shelley’s story is a reminder that brilliance doesn’t wait for the “right time.” She didn’t let her age, her gender, or her circumstances define her. She saw the world as it was and imagined what it could be. And in doing so, she changed literature forever.
So, as we celebrate Women’s History Month, let’s remember Mary Shelley—not as a tragic figure or a footnote in Percy’s story, but as a trailblazer, a rebel, and a genius. She was a woman who looked at the world and said, “I can create something better.” And she did.
Mary, thank you for giving us Frankenstein, for inventing science fiction, and for reminding us that even the darkest stories can shine a light.
