Simon does his work in the basement. His “cadaverous creations” range from social commentary to the whimsical.
It wasn’t his fault he was good at stuffing God’s creatures and posing them to lampoon the social mores of the day.
Gregor works in the light, cultivating floral and fungal wonders from near and far, guided by his imagination and innovative spirit.
He had better things to do – there was botany afoot.
Simon and Gregor have never had the opportunity to have a child. Until now. Their relationship is unconventional for the time and, as a result, secret. The same could be said of their daughter.
I’ve been obsessed with this cover since I first saw it. I also may have been a tad obsessed with the blurb.
Sometimes the reality of a book doesn’t line up with your expectations but that’s not the book’s fault and it’s not always the worst thing that could happen.
The writing was more poetic than I thought I’d find and that was a pleasant surprise. There was a formality to some of the writing, which I also didn’t expect, but that fit well with the time period in which the book takes place.
I was awed by the amount of research that must have gone into the potential repurposing of each plant. As someone who has successfully managed to kill an air fern, I’m clearly not the most horticulturally minded person. As a result, I sometimes glazed over when I encountered details that were beyond me.
I swear I will see the day when humans fully understand the botanical kingdom, and the botanical kingdom fully understands us.
I never really connected with Simon or Gregor but I had a soft spot for Jennifer. I wanted to spend more time with Rosalinda.
I spent the entire book waiting for hell to break loose and probably hyped it up too much in my mind. There was the body horror I’d hoped for but not as much as I’d wanted.
To be fair, I’m not sure there’d ever be enough body horror for me. At this point, I may be somewhat immune. I’ve just binged all of the Saw movies and wasn’t squeamish once. If you’re not as bloodthirsty as me, you’ll probably find the right amount of body horror here.
And, you never know, you may be invited to very-high tea.
Now all we can do is hope, pray, and water.
Thank you so much to NetGalley and Titan Books for the opportunity to read this book.
Once Upon a Blurb
It is an unusual thing, to live in a botanical garden. But Simon and Gregor are an unusual pair of gentlemen. Hidden away in their glass sanctuary from the disapproving tattle of Victorian London, they are free to follow their own interests without interference. For Simon, this means long hours in the dark basement workshop, working his taxidermical art. Gregor’s business is exotic plants – lucrative, but harmless enough. Until his latest acquisition, a strange fungus which shows signs of intellect beyond any plant he’s seen, inspires him to attempt a masterwork: true intelligent life from plant matter.
Driven by the glory he’ll earn from the Royal Horticultural Society for such an achievement, Gregor ignores the flaws in his plan: that intelligence cannot be controlled; that plants cannot be reasoned with; and that the only way his plant-beast will flourish is if he uses a recently deceased corpse for the substrate.
The experiment – or Chloe, as she is named – outstrips even Gregor’s expectations, entangling their strange household. But as Gregor’s experiment flourishes, he wilts under the cost of keeping it hidden from jealous eyes. The mycelium grows apace in this sultry greenhouse. But who is cultivating whom?
Told with wit and warmth, this is an extraordinary tale of family, fungus and more than a dash of bloody revenge from an exciting new voice in queer horror.
Schizanthus Nerd 