Ever since I met Mary Shelley and acceded to her solicitude for my collusion with an “embellished biography” of my work, I have been fascinated to continue to follow the extended coattails of that one story. Even years after Mary's passing I am intrigued at the vast industry of indulgent invention behind the myriad of interpretations. I am flattered for her. I reserve gratuitous self absorption for the efforts of my actual work; not the ludicrous charade as it is often depicted to be.
