Poor Things [Movie Tie-In]

I absolutely adored the movie so I bought the book. It was so hard to put down I read it in less than a week! If I didn't have a toddler and 10 week old at home I would probably have finished it in two days.

This is one of Alasdair Gray's best books. Be prepared to learn some Scots as you read this. Gray can be compared to Mark Twain -- their compelling use of vernacular, their concern for human rights, their use of contradiction and wonder at the cruelty of their fellow peoples.

I make it my job to read some pretty weird books--as an aficionado of science fiction and fantasy, I sometimes run into some doozies-- but this novel by Gray has to be one of the strangest that I've run into recently. The fact that this novel was not published in the genre, and won a couple of mainstream awards makes me wonder what else I'm missing in the "mundane" fiction shelves.Poor Things is supposedly non-fiction, as illustrated by its full title on the title page: "Poor Things: Episodes from the Early Life of Archibald McCandless M.D., Scottish Public Health Officer, Edited by Alasdair Gray." But this is all part of its mystique. Gray has constructed a literary puzzle, a Frankenstein's monster of a book that takes its inspiration from that novel by Mary Shelley as well as the works of Robert Louis Stevenson and H.G. Wells. McCandless is the titular biographer, but the story is actually that of the eccentric Scottish doctor Godwin Baxter and his "creation," Bella Baxter, later known as Dr. Victoria McCandless. Set in Glasgow in the 1880s, the plot entails how McCandless met Baxter, how he then met Baxter's protege Bella and fell in love with her, her subsequent departure, and the circumstances of her return. To reveal any more would be to dilute the heavy stuff of the novel's innovative twists.If Gray were writing with the Fantasy label stuck on the spine of his books, I would have termed this one a "steampunk" novel for its revisionist look at medicine and technology in a pre-auto world. Fans of Tim Powers and James Blaylock should definitely check this one out.

'Poor Things' is the perfect example of how Gray understands the power of the medium he works in. Just as two poets could destroy the Eastern Empire in 'Unlikely Stories, Mostly', Gray playfully toys with the reader's perception of reality and truth and how it is influenced by the media. Rather than being the author of Poor Things, Gray purports to be merely an editor, who has discovered a manuscript and letter, which he presents for the reader's examination. His personae in this instance implies that the novel has been 'received' rather than 'created'. This lends the rather bizarre proceedings a strange air of credibility, and stops the reader pondering over the likelihood of some of the more extraordinary events occurring. For example, Baxter's "skeely, skeely fingers" performing the "skilfully manipulated resurrection" of a young woman is the stuff of fairy tales, but due to Gray's web of fibs, it is understood as a rational medical discovery rather than a magical act. The main body of the book is presented as a first-person narrative, written by one Archibald McCandless. In it, he describes how an eccentric friend creates a woman from a dead body, in the manner of Baron Frankenstein. However, a letter accompanying the narrative (according to Gray) states that it is little more than a pack of lies. The letter has been written by the very woman who the narrative covered. On top of this confusion, Gray has annotated and analysed the text, and professes to believe the original narrative as true. In this fashion, the novel is as 'stitched together' as Bella herself, every 'fact' seems to be contradicted later, true history is marred by pure fiction, almost making it impossible to separate truth from falsehood. From the very beginning of the novel, the reader is confronted by colliding facts, and must make a choice as to who he or she believes: Archibald or Victoria. Because the choice has to be made between the two characters, Gray's own 'facts' are never brought into doubt. Even the erratum slip in the endpapers adds unnecessary confusion to the proceedings, stating: "The etching on page 187 does not portray Professor Jean Martin Charcot, but Count Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac." Apart from the fact that the accuracy of this one etching has little if no effect on the reader's perception of the novel, Gray has once again abused the power that has been vested in him by creating unnecessary confusion. If Gray himself was responsible for the illustrations, would he choose to draw the wrong character deliberately, or would he draw the correct one but deliberately try to mislead the readers with an erratum slip? Alternatively, is the etching of someone completely different (i.e. neither Charcot or Count Robert)? Whatever the identity of the etched man, to mislead the reader in this way would be entirely pointless. Therefore, the only rational answer is that the illustrations were done by Wil

Work as though you lived in the better days of a younger nation

Mr. Toad's wild ride. A schizophrenic yet accurate and relevant romp through the nineteenth century. A fantastic concoction of comedy and human drama through a unique revisioning of Mary Shelley.