The Resurrectionist: The Lost Work of Dr. Spencer Black,
by E.B. Hudspeth
Who doesn't love a good mad-scientist-creating-conglomerate-creatures story? I know I do. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is surely the great-great-grandmother to this book, but it has more recent relations.
While reading Hudspeth's The Resurrectionist from Quirk Books, I was reminded of another good read I picked up a couple of years ago at a library book sale: Lives of the Monster Dogs, by Kirsten Bakis. In both The Resurrectionist and Monster Dogs, there is the feeling of morbid fascination combined with a profound sadness that I find hard to shake. There is always a sacrifice of innocence to reach the climax of this artificial evolution. In both of these books, it is the family pet who suffers for his owner's scientific ambitions. And to me, this feels like the worst kind of betrayal, making the results of these animal-blending projects even more horrifying.
I gave it 4 stars.