It's easy to say this is great Gothic fiction, one of the first and greatest pieces of science-fiction and a horror masterpiece. That's because it is, everything from the character work, the fabulous lines of dialogue ("I shall collect my funeral pile, and consume to ashes this miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious and unhallowed wretch, who would create such another as I have been. I shall die."), and in particular, taking centre stage in many of the passages, the descriptions of the wild pre-industrial European landscapes, with lush and dark forests of green, running rivers, castles in ruin. This all to evoke a sense of gloom and dark in the reader that so few works of fiction have managed to hold me by.
I was aware I'd like this, but not that I would absolutely love it, my library's copy has now been dogmarked to oblivion, and previously to mine reading it, some other lucky one managed to underline passages throughout the novel that help only to pay even more attention to the wording. It deserves every praise and every sense of worth as a great novel.