Robert Louis Stevenson explores the very nature of man in this classic horror novel. “Why did you wake me? I was dreaming a fine bogey tale.” Robert Louis Stevenson’s masterpiece of the duality of good and evil in man’s nature sprang from the darkest recesses of his own unconscious—during a nightmare from which his wife awakened him, alerted by his screams. More than a hundred years later, this tale of the mild-mannered Dr. Jekyll and the drug that unleashes his evil, inner persona—the loathsome, twisted Mr. Hyde—has lost none of its ability to shock. Its realistic police-style narrative chillingly relates Jekyll’s desperation as Hyde gains control of his soul—and gives voice to our own fears of the violence and evil within us. Written before Freud’s naming of the ego and the id, Stevenson’s enduring classic demonstrates a remarkable understanding of the personality’s inner conflicts—and remains the irresistibly terrifying stuff of our worst nightmares. Includes the Famous Cornell Lecture on  Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Vladimir Nabokov With a New Introduction by Kelly Hurley and an Afterword by Dan Chaon Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94) was born in Edinburgh. In the brief span of forty-four years, dogged by poor health, he made an enormous contribution to English literature with his novels, poetry, and essays. The son of upper-middle-class parents, he was the victim of lung trouble from birth and spent a sheltered childhood surrounded by constant care. In 1880, he married Mrs. Fanny Osbourne, a woman ten years his senios. The balance of his life was taken up with his unremitting devotion to work and a search for a cure to his illness that took him all over the world. His travel essays were published widely, and his short fiction was gathered in many volumes. His first full-length work of fiction, Treasure Island , was published in 1883 and brought him great fame, which only increased with the publication of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde  (1886). He followed with the Scottish romances Kidnapped  (1886) and The Master of Ballantrae (1889). In 1888, he set out with his family for the South Seas, traveling to the leper colony of Molokai, and finally settling in Samoa, where he died.  Kelly Hurley  is an Associate Professor of English at the University of Colorado at Boulder, where she teaches Victorian studies, literary theory, and popular culture. She is the author of  The Gothic Body: Sexuality, Materialism, and Degeneration at the Fin de Siècle , as well as various articles on Victorian and contemporary Gothic. Her next book is on horror film spectatorship. Vladimir Nabokov (1899-1977) was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, in a trilingual household; he could read and write in English before Russian or French. His family went into exile after the Bolshevik revolution and lived in various European cities, including Berlin and Prague. In 1940, Nabokov and his wife and son fled the Nazis to America, where he taught college and wrote Lolita  (1955). After that book’s tremendous success, he was able to write full-time and moved back to Europe, eventually settling in Montreaux, Switzerland. Among his other notable books are Pale Fire (1962) and Ada (1969). In addition to his writing, he was a noted entomologist specializing in butterflies. Dan Chaon is the author of the novels Await Your Reply and You Remind Me of Me , and two short story collections, Fitting Ends and the 2001 National Book Award Finalist Among the Missing .  His work has appeared in numerous magazines, including Story, Ploughshares, and TriQuarterly , as well as Best American Short Stories and The Pushcart Prize 2000.  The recipient of numerous prizes and honors, he is the Pauline Delaney Professor of Creative Writing and Literature at Oberlin College. Story of the Door MR. UTTERSON the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approved tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. "I incline to Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly: "I let my brother go to the devil in his own way." In this character, it was frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last good influence in the lives of downgoing men. And to s