[say what you will, he could do a strip-tease like a diamond]
I was a bit underwhelmed by The Invisible Man. In fairness though it was written in 1897, it was bound to age. Plus I don’t know why I was expecting big things from it, if I became invisible all I’d do different is make things move around, freak people out a bit for a laugh, and do a bit of eavesdropping.
But above all, for the most part of the book I was far too distracted to concentrate on the plot by the thought that it’s winter and the invisible man has to get naked every time he wants to be unseen. For some reason I initially assumed that he must be wearing an invisible pair of pants, but no he has to strut around nude in the dead of winter.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, the invisible man is a scientist called Griffin, who can’t turn himself visible again so plans world domination and is a bit evil. This bad-boy street image is emphasised in the 1933 film adaption when he steals a bicycle and an old man’s hat, and everyone loses their shit, the utter maniac!
The character is unlikable but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him because he must be chilly. My heart also bled for Dr Kemp when the invisible man is in his house (each of his invisible ass cheeks are touching his lovely couch), and I shed a tear for the villagers who got more than they bargained for when he dies, becomes visible again and revealed the whole butcher shop to them.