The Last Man by Mary Shelley
This novel was panned by the critics when it was first published in 1826, and I can see why.
The majority of the book consists of the narrator extolling the characters' virtues ad nauseam (the main characters being thinly veiled, idealised portraits of Percy Shelley and Lord Byron) and when he's not praising their qualities to the skies, he's bewailing the wretchedness of their lives for what seems like page after page.
What little plot there is moves at a glacial pace due to the aforementioned verbiage, and considering the novel is set in the late 21st century the author seems to have given very little thought to what changes the future may bring. We are still very much in 'Pride and Prejudice' country - twenty first century society is still stratified by class, with the gentry in charge and the lower orders knowing their place, travel is still by horse and carriage, sailing ships are still used and wars are fought using muskets, sword and cannon. The only nod to futurism is the use of balloons with wings to travel between cities.
If you want to read a good Mary Shelley novel, stick to Frankenstein. I'm with the critics on this one.