Experiment: Frankenstory
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, I wondered if one could write a decent story using opening lines from classic novels. Hence, this Frankensteinian experiment.
SOURCES FOR EACH LINE ARE LISTED AT THE END. SEE HOW MANY YOU KNOW. THIS STORY HAS NOT BEEN TOUCHED BY AI.
Frankenstory
Call me Ishmael. I am an invisible man.
In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, but that ain't no matter. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
All this happened, more or less. It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York. We slept in what had once been the gymnasium.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. The drought had lasted now for ten million years, and the reign of the terrible lizards had long since ended.
As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He lay flat on the brown, pine-needled floor of the forest, his chin on his folded arms, and high overhead the wind blew in the tops of the pine trees. When he woke in the woods in the dark and cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him.
I first met Dean when my wife and I split up. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. It was a pleasure to burn.
Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano BuendÃa was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.
Sources:
Herman Melville Moby-Dick
Ralph Ellison The Invisible Man
F. Scott Fitzgerald The Great Gatsby
Leo Tolstoy Anna Karenina
Mark Twain Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
J.D. Salinger The Catcher in the Rye
Kurt Vonnegut Slaughterhouse Five
Sylvia Plath The Bell Jar
Margaret Atwood The Handmaid’s Tale
Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities
George Orwell Nineteen Eighty-Four
Hunter S. Thompson Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Arthur C. Clarke 2001 - A Space Odyssey
Franz Kafka The Metamorphosis
Ernest Hemingway For Whom the Bell Tolls
Cormac McCarthy The Road
Jack Kerouac On the Road
Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice
Virginia Woolf Mrs. Dalloway
Vladimir Nabokov Lolita
Ray Bradbury Fahrenheit 451
Gabriel GarcÃa Márquez One Hundred Years of Solitude
Made me smile. I recognized quite a bit.