TandeWrites

Today, in honour of me committing to reviewing all of my favourite reads of the year so far, we’re going to be reviewing Our Hideous Progeny by C. E. McGill, a book I read a month or so ago which has become the newest addition to my favourite books of all time. This is a literary revisiting of Mary Shelley’s classic Frankenstein with a fresh, queer, provocative twist, perfect for readers of Circe or Ariadne. It’s Frankenstein, but if Victor was an experimental palaeontologist who decided to try a very literal fossil reconstruction rather than build a body from scratch.

The 1850s is a time of discovery, and London is ablaze with the latest scientific theories and debates, especially when a spectacular new exhibition of dinosaur sculptures opens at the Crystal Palace. Mary, the great-niece of Victor Frankenstein with a sharp mind and a sharper tongue, is keen to make her name in this world of science alongside her geologist husband Henry, but without wealth and connections, their options are limited. When Mary discovers some old family papers that allude to the shocking truth behind her great-uncle’s past, she thinks she may have found the key to securing their future. Their quest takes them to the wilds of Scotland, to Henry’s intriguing but reclusive sister Maisie, and to a deadly chase with a rival who is out to steal their secret.

Similar to the author, I too did not like Frankenstein when I read it for the first time, but I have also come to appreciate the book as both a piece of literature and a piece of history. The book is a time capsule of an era in which science was advancing at an alarming rate, and bodies were regularly snatched from graves and sold to medical schools for dissection, and medicine was both miraculous and horrifying. It’s also significant to know that the entire genre of science fiction—a genre whose creators and fans have often tried to pretend as though women don’t exist—was born from the nightmares of an eighteen-year-old girl.

Our Hideous Progeny reinterprets the Frankenstein narrative with a woman at the centre who makes no effort to be ‘likeable’, specifically someone who struggles to walk the tightrope of being both brilliant and as non-threatening as a woman with her talents can be. The writing is immersive and has a strong period feel, and I think the structure of the book is very reminiscent of the original Frankenstein, with the first and final chapters being scenes where the storyteller is looking back on the story, and the first half of the book alternating ‘past’ and ‘present’ chapters. It starts a little slowly, again reminiscent of many Victorian novels, but the story is incredibly enthralling as you adjust to the style. My only real flaw with the story is that I didn’t grasp the full extent of Mary’s creature: it felt like a secondary character, especially when it’s in direct comparison with Frankenstein’s monster. There are a few glimpses of the creature’s behaviour here and there, but I didn’t find it clear if the creature was gentle or dangerous or a threat to society, or if it was simply there to exist.

Something I love about this book is that the author made the world as real as possible. Many of the characters, while still fictional, are heavily inspired by real historical figures, as are life-sized dinosaur statues in Crystal Palace that were created to illustrate palaeontological models. The books Mary reads, the theories she discusses, and the people she meets are all true to life—including the women who attend the scientific society meetings, all of whom are scientists in their own right. Mary herself is named after three real-life Marys: Mary Shelley, fossil hunter and self-taught palaeontologist Mary Anning, and the so-called nineteenth century ‘Queen of Science’ Mary Somerville, whose contemporary biographies emphasise how she was the ideal Victorian woman (humble, pleasant, soft-spoken, devoted to her husband, etc). I like how the author’s Mary shows the experience of a woman who is the opposite of Somerville. If it was difficult for her to make a name for herself, how impossible would it have been for all the women who couldn’t bring themselves to make light of the obstacles, grin, and bear it? Women who were hot-tempered and prideful—women who posed a threat?

Our Hideous Progeny is a tale of ambition and obsession, forbidden love, sabotage, and adventure that blends classic, immersive storytelling with contemporary themes. The author dedicates this book to “women with cold hearts and sharp tongues, who play with fire and fall in love with monsters,” which is why it is competing against some of my favourite reads of all time.