A Botanical Daughter was a fantastic read and queer and horrific re-telling of Frankenstein fully grabbed my attention from the beginning. I appreciated the multiple points of view switching between Gregor, Simon, and Jenny’s point of view. I loved that the romance was already set in stone and this was more of a test and exploration of a romantic relationship amidst the fungal fears growing in Gregor’s botanical garden. I loved the concept of living in a botanical garden, the social isolation from society out of necessity in this relationship as well as in connection to the secrecy of floral and fungal experiments taking place. I had a great time reading this debut horror novel and absolutely recommend fans of Frankenstein and queer re-tellings take some time to read this novel!

This is like little shop of horrors meets frankenstein.

I loved the book, it was dark, and yet told a powerful love story. Could I have done without the scene between Jennifer and CHLOE? Absolutely, but I understood why it needed to happen. I could have just done without the imagery, especially knowing what CHLOE was made up of.

Simon and Gregor were polar opposites, and I liked Simon a great deal more. Gregor was quite selfish in that he seemed to only care about his experiments than how everyone else in the house was feeling. Everytime he kissed or showed affection to Simon it was because Simon would acknowledge his support of Gregor's experiments. He never showed him affection just to show it and yet Simon stuck by him regardless.

A cozy queer horror that will either inspire you to grow a flower garden or delete your neighbour.

Simon and Gregor live together in a greenhouse in the 1800s England and are forced to hide their relationship from the world. Simon is a taxidermist and Gregor is a botanist of rare plants. After discovering a possibly-sentient fungus, the two men work together to create their botanical daughter. There is also a sapphic love story, but I don't want to give too much away - trust me, you'll love it!

I love the concept of creating a Frankenstein's-monster out of flowers and fungus. If you do too, this book will not let you down. The story is rich with description, making me think I was standing right beside our main characters throughout the story.

This is an insular story, which rides on the strength and authenticity of the character building, which Noah Medlock does really well. While the pace of the story is pretty solid, the stakes always seem pretty low, which is what makes this a cozy horror. I love that the backdrop of this story is a lush and blooming greenhouse, while in the foreground, the story does not shy away from the most gruesome parts of horror.

There is a subplot that reminds me a lot of Edward Albee's The American Dream, which demonstrates how the 'perfect family' creates 'the perfect child'. I like the questions that rise from making your own family, in this version it's a botanical daughter. What do we do for the family we choose? What happens when the someone isn't living up to our expectations/dreams? And how do we find balance again?

No spoilers - I loved the ending. I won't say more, but I didn't guess it, so that's a bonus.

Thank you to NetGalley and Titan for this advanced reader copy.

This book is best read under a twisted hazel tree with your partner, after hastily filling a shallow grave. If anyone asks, you were in London.

I flew through Noah Medlock’s ‘A Botanical Daughter’ in 48hrs. Frankly, it blew my socks off. I couldn’t put it down.

THE VIBES: A spicy LGBTQIA+ ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ / ‘Frankenstein’ mash-up by Stephen Sondheim.

THE PLOT: Victorian gentlemen Gregor Sandys and Simon Rievaulx hide their true relationship by posing as two bachelors working in their immense greenhouse, Grimfern.
Eager botanist Gregor coaxes his taxidermist partner into combining their talents to create a botanical daughter.
As their daughter’s sentience grows, the two men must decide how to keep her safe from outsiders – and outsiders safe from her (dun dun dunnn).

THOUGHTS: The novel’s cosy beginning is almost Wildean, with Gregor’s Wagnerian banging at the piano and Simon’s dry social commentary:

“Please come up here to me. I won’t tolerate being wooed from the bushes.”

“The content of the reading material did not matter, although he made a good performance of erudite interest. What mattered was that he was reading, with tea.”

Simon’s amusingly pained propriety wouldn’t feel out of place in ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’.

Speaking of classics, ‘Frankenstein’ is one of my faves, and I loved Medlock’s take on what might’ve unfolded if Victor had told his BFF Henry what his experiment was. How might the monster have developed if Victor had had a partner who knew of his plans? Someone to support him through the project?

My 19th-century-loving heart was so pleased.

BOY DID THINGS ESCALATE FROM THERE THOUGH.

The second half of the novel is less Victorian Gambolling and more Sweeney Todd with Secateurs. There’s also a Certain Green Scene that I’m... still processing.

I’m squeamish with sprays of gore, and I’m not a fan of spice, so I had to skim some parts. Those are my personal preferences though, and not a reflection on the quality of Medlock’s writing.

IF YOU LOVE:
- Freya Marske / T Kingfisher
- Frankenstein / Wilde
- Sondheim
- Plant horror
... You’re going to love this.

Thank you @netgalley and @titanbooks for the #gifted e-book. I’m keen to see what @medlock_noah writes next!

I wasn't sure exactly what to expect going into this book. I was pleasantly surprised. We are introduced first to Gregor and Simon. They are a duo who have been living in this greenhouse for presumably a few years now. Long enough that the people are accustomed to their strange behavior. I loved the idea of them knowing each others' proclivities well enough to have set up places where they could explore those talents and curiosities in peace.

Then the weirdness happens. Gregor gets this box from Sumatra. He knows what is supposed to be in the box. It's something he's ordered, but it goes all kinds of strange. I never once thought I'd be down to read about a mycellium that can think for itself. At least, in the most rudimentary of ways. The mycellium (a sort of squishy goo mushroom) was caring for a plant. It would make sure the thing was kept in the ideal conditions for its growth. I loved that. The mushroom knew what to do.

Gregor gets the brilliant idea while watching this mycellium, to build a sort of mobile lattice. That's the best way I can think to describe it. He talks about it with Simon. I didn't like that Gregor weaponized their relationship to force Simon's hand. The way that he twisted his love for his actual boyfriend so that he could get what he wanted made me angry. No one should behave that way. You don't threaten someone that you'll divulge something that will get you both arrested and possibly killed just to get what you want.

Past that grossness, it was an interesting story. I was hooked from page one. I loved how every time something traumatic would happen, Simon would make a physical representation of the emotional response so he wouldn't have to feel it himself. Something he didn't want to think about? A brain in a jar. Something he didn't want to remember seeing? A barber's cup full of preserved eyeballs. It was so bizarrely just....Simon, that I couldn't help enjoying it.

I eventually gave this book a 4.5/5 stars. I took off the last half a star because I didn't care, again, for how Gregor treated Simon like a possession or how just absolutely batshit he went during the whole creation of Chloe, their Botanical Daughter. It was bad. I adored Chloe and Jenny and their relationship as things were discovered between them and things sort of progressed. That's the best I can describe it?

The resolution was worth the read. I liked how they learned and grew throughout and what eventually became of everything as they did so.

I will definitely be keeping my eye out for more books by Noah Medlock!!

I was sold on A Botanical Daughter by its Frankenstein-esque promises, and I wasn't let down. Everything I adore about its Gothic inspiration comes to unique life in these pages: ethical conundrums, nature vs nurture, transgressive commentary. Gregor and Simon, two perpetual bachelors living in a dreamlike greenhouse, create an experiment known as Chloe - their botanical daughter. But where do the lines of plant and humanity blur, and what will they do when their creation develops a mind of its own? The multiple POV split between Gregor, Simon, and their housekeeper Jennifer helped bring Chloe to different facets of life as they all understand and believe her to be many different things. The relationship between Gregor and Simon is strained, and I could see this as a play on the idea that having children will save a stale marriage. The novel is delightfully queer and other reviewers who have called it "cozy Gothic" are definitely onto something. The horror of this novel is not blood or guts or jump scares. Those ethical terrors were enough to scare me and, as always, how far we're willing to go in the pursuit of discovery. I was split on the climax and ending regarding the fate of a certain character, but I could make an argument for its necessity despite the ick and semi-dissatisfaction. As others have said, this is a slow read but it was a rewarding one for me. Overall, Medlock crafts a fungal daydream-nightmare that fans of What Moves the Dead will enjoy. I'd recommend it for mushroom enthusiasts, plant parents, and those monstrous yearners who hide away.

Thank you to NetGalley and Titan Books for the ARC. A longer, critical review will be posted on my blog on Tuesday, March 19th, along with Instagram.

Overall Thoughts
A Botanical Daughter makes some pretty grand promises in its blurb, and I’m happy to say it largely lives up to them for me. A dark but often humorous tale in its absurdities, the writing and story do reflect the advertised feel of Wilde and Shelley. Gregor and Simon are odd characters but oddly endearing as well, and as the events become more unwieldy, so too do Gregor’s nerves and decisions. The conclusion was both unsettling and satisfying, though I do have some qualms about its details. I really enjoyed this read, and will certainly be looking for more by the author.

World / Setting
The story takes place in the countryside outside London, over the course of the year 1899. Gregor and Simon are understandably self-secluding, given the outlaw nature of their relationship at the time. The small country village nearest their estate contains a variety of folk who are largely uninterested in the gentlemen aside from their ability to employ them. Aside from the horror and fantastical botany, this is simply an historical fiction story.

Characters
Gregor is a genius botanist who, as is required by his archetype, considers his pride before ethics. After a humiliation of a previous experiment, Gregor’s pride is a fragile thing, and he can be bitter and mean when challenged. He can also be quite manipulative of those around him, and uses this to his advantage often when things threaten to be out of his control. He is turbulent and inconstant and frustrating. In short, he is a fantastic Gothic character.
Simon is a talented taxidermist and, though he claims no great passion for it, uses the art form as an outlet for both his creativity and his struggles. He is largely passive and lets Gregor get away with far too much… until he doesn’t. He was endearing to follow and, while also slightly too willing to put Gregor’s ambition ahead of ethics, he at least considers the questions in the process.
Jennifer is a young woman from the village who ends up in the gentlemen’s employ, and joins their somewhat questionable found family. She is kind and naïve, but also willing to push back against Gregor and even defy him when she feels it's required.

Plot
The story centers around Gregor’s great experiment: a holobiont, e.g. a collection of plants that combine into a single sentient entity. The project begins when Gregor acquires a mycelium that has a sort of symbiotic relationship with an orchid, caring for it to some degree by controlling light and moisture around it. Gregor immediately, in classic mad scientist fashion, decides that he can nurture this into sentience and artificial life. As he becomes obsessed with this project, he ropes Simon and Jennifer into his plots and events unfold from there. This is a story with some horrific and dark turns, but the characters have humor and hope and kindness. I found it a fast and engaging read, with great writing and characters.

Recommended Audience
- Readers who enjoy a Gothic tale or horror stories in the Gothic tradition.
- Readers who don’t mind some disastrous characters who can be downright insufferable.
- Readers looking for more mycelial horror after What Moves the Dead and / or Mexican Gothic.

A Botanical Daughter by Noah Medlock immediately caught my eye because of the simply gorgeous cover art, and having read the book I think the artist captured the vibes of this horticultural horror perfectly. I could sum this book up by saying it is Frankenstein meets Mexican Gothic but that is an over simplification as while it does remind me of both of these books, it also stands in its own right as a beautifully written story filled with lush descriptions and populated by fascinating if not always likeable characters.
In Victorian England Simon and Gregor are an unusual pair, they hide their relationship while living in a literal glass house where botanist Gregor works with exotic plants while taxidermist Simon works on his unusual creations in the basement below. When Simon acquires a sample of an unusual fungus it inspires him to try to create an intelligent life from plant matter , something that would reignite his career and shock those at the Royal Horticultural Society who laughed at his previous endeavours. Of course the plan is not without flaws, not least of which is the need for a suitable substrate to grow his fungus on, and when he realises that the ideal solution is a recently deceased human body he draws Gregor into his plans. Of course things do not run smoothly and when the experiment succeeds beyond either of their imaginations they are soon forced to ponder the consequences of their decisions and the lengths that they are prepared to go to in order to protect their creation.
I absolutely loved this book, both the idea and the execution were phenomenal. The writing is beautiful, descriptive without venturing into purple prose and I really fell in love with all of the characters but most especially Jenny, the young local girl that Simon and Gregor hire as a house keeper initially but soon becomes a vital part of their rather unusual family. I thought the portrayal of the relationship between Simon and Gregor felt real, a mix of tenderness and frustration that really resonated. The book moved at a compelling pace that kept me turning the pages but it never felt hurried, in fact I thought the author did an excellent job of giving the story time to breathe . The differences in how Simon and Gregor responded to Chloe, as they called the experiment was quite thought provoking and it was interesting to see that as the character of Chloe perhaps became more "human" to the reader she was simultaneously more monstrous in the eyes of her creators. I described the book earlier as horticultural horror, and while there are definitely some gory moments , the horror is more of the old school style ,very much in the tradition of Frankenstein and its questioning of who is the real monster, the construct or the creator.
I read and reviewed an ARC courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, all opinions are my own,

Sometimes a family is a botanist gay dad, a taxidermist gay dad, their housekeeper, and their monstrous plant daughter.

I'm very specific in my horror reading tastes, and this hit the spot for all of them. I would describe this as a cosy horror. Even though it's unsettling, it's also filled with so much warmth. The writing was gorgeous and often really funny, and I just adored this queer found family.

A Special thank you to Titan Books and NetGalley for my copies of this novel!

‘The mind emerges from the intricacies of the brain… So too may it arise from the intricacies of the forest’

I am always wary when it comes to comparing books, in fear of making false equivalencies, but the similarities between ‘A Botanical Daughter’ and ‘Frankenstein’ are too stark, and too intentional not to mention. Chloe, the botanical daughter, an amalgamation of fungi, roots and plants, is a creation that disrupts the boundaries that govern life and death, in the name of science and discovery. Gregor and Simon, like Victor Frankenstein, tussle with the responsibility they have over a creation that far exceeds their expectations, permanently altering the lives of both themselves and the people around them.

Gregor and Simon’s individual relationships with Chloe constantly shift and evolve as she evolves to become more sentient and more human. As two men in a relationship in Victorian London, the one thing neither ever expected to gain in their relationship was a child, a family. It was fascinating to watch them both grapple with paternal feelings that felt so far out of the realms of possibility to them. The plant girl may be unfathomable but so too is what she represents to them both. Chloe disrupts not just the law and order of life and death, but of the societal norms of the time. Both struggle with the burden of responsibility in their new family dynamic, both to their relationship, and to the ever-burgeoning Chloe. This was difficult to follow at points. It felt like Gregor in particular was constantly shifting in his opinions of Chloe, at some points considering her a daughter and at others simply scientific stimulus turned monster. Although slightly off-putting, I did feel like this fit in with Gregor as a character, who is very much a control-freak. As Chloe grows and prospers out of Gregor’s manipulation, Gregor perceives her as less of a daughter and more of a monster, while she becomes less of a monster and more of a human to the reader.

The highlight of the novel for me was whenever Noah Medlock would describe Chloe. Medlock’s knowledge and understanding of botany flourishes through Chloe, breathing figurative life into the botanical daughter. Chloe feels uncanny, in equal parts aesthetically beautiful and unusually disturbing, taking on the human form while existing wholly of nature. Chloe is a unique figure within any literature that I have read. In many ways she is a new take on the zombie, or of a possession narrative, with Chloe simply being a body hosted by invasive sources. Simply put, Chloe blurs definitions, making you question what it means to be human and what qualities are inherently that.

Indeed, ‘A Botanical Daughter’ considers what it means to love someone or something in spite of societal perceptions of right and wrong, human and monstrous. Love transcends matters of body and exists on more of a spiritual level where some people, some souls, are simply meant to be together. It is a whimsical tale splattered with just enough blood and guts to keep the reader grounded and the tension high, and if this is only Noah Medlock’s debut novel, I cannot wait to see what he comes up with next.

Find ‘A Botanical Daughter’ in your local bookstore from the 19th March!

Thank you to NetGalley/Titan Books for a copy of A Botanical Daughter in exchange for an honest review.


Does It Live up to the Synopsis?
I wanted so badly to like Noah Medlock’s A Botanical Daughter. The premise is right up my alley. I do love a good atmospheric horror (and Victorian? Even better!). Seeing that I used to work for a gardening and lifestyle website, I even knew more about the topic at hand. AND it’s gay? This book should have tickled all my fancies.

Unfortunately, it didn’t. For one, A Botanical Daughter is excruciatingly slow. It’s not that horror cannot be a slow burn (or slow creep), but it needs to build tension along the way. I didn’t feel suspense in this novel.

Further, the unhealthy relationship between Gregor and Simon squicked me out. Of course, it’s okay for relationships in novels to be harmful. But I don’t know that they should be presented like A Botanical Daughter does Gregor’s and Simon’s. While Medlock acknowledges that elements of the relationship are problematic, I don’t know that he goes far enough.

That doesn’t mean there’s nothing I appreciated about A Botanical Daughter. I love the setting and the way that Medlock describes it. I also like the spin on Frankenstein. Too, is the way that this novel addresses the pain of queerness, especially with regard to family creation. There’s a sick, twisted element here that could also be applied to how AI is used today (and will continue to be).

Medlock doesn’t fully form these ideas, though. They are sprinkled throughout the book, and the book would have been better had he chosen one or two of them to deeply explore, along with the science of Gregor’s Monster. As it stands, the things I liked weren’t enough to outweigh what I didn’t. I can’t really recommend the book.

A Botanical Daughter comes out on March 19, 2024. 📚🌿

Calling all body horror fans... this is the book for you.

I am so thankful to Titan Books, Noah Medlock, and Netgalley for the advanced physical and digital copies of this book before it comes out on March 19, 2024.

A Botanical Daughter is about just that—a botanical daughter—one that a botanist and his lover, a taxidermist, created within their greenhouse home one summer day. They formulated this born-again daughter out of a rare form of mycelia fungi that becomes conscious enough to walk around and speak on behalf of a recently dead girl, Constance.

The two men dote upon their daughter, Chloe, ensuring she has all she needs to continue growing and thriving under the most peculiar conditions. They even hire a governess, Jennifer Finch, who just so happens to be Constance's lover and has no idea that Chloe is traveling about in the husk of her dead lover. But alas, Jenny grows to love and care for Chloe as she watches her flourish and evolve as an experiment wants to. Chloe has a dark side, though, and a want for bloodshed, anything to protect her parental figures, for she owes them her life.

This book is a mix of Poor Things and Frankenstein and I ate up every piece of it.

I made it all the way to 66% on this one – I tried so hard – but I don’t want to pick it up again. I definitely enjoyed it back near the beginning, but more and more reading it feels like a chore. And then, as so often happens, I remembered that I do not have to read this, so now I’m going to stop.

The writing itself is great, and I loved the sheer weirdness of the set-up: these two life-partnered men, one a stoic taxidermist and the other a doctor/professor of botany, living together in a giant jungle of a greenhouse. Both are grumpy, not likeable in the typical sense, and yet, I liked them both.

Gradually, though, the characters kind of fall apart. And I don’t mean in the fun way, wherein they slowly lose their sanity or grip on reality. (Although arguably that is also kind of happening, at least with one or two of the cast.) What I mean is, pretty much all of them – but especially Simon and Gregor – start doing these emotional 180s, where they suddenly and dramatically announce that they’ve changed their opinion on something important. But these changes come out of nowhere, with no warning and no explanation. And they happen over and over and over. If it had only happened once, I’d have been confused, but I probably would have kept reading. But by the fifth or sixth time one of them had declared themselves of the entire opposite opinion to what they’d been yesterday… Or made some decision, or set out on some very serious action, that seemed completely random… I had whiplash, and had lost all sense of who these characters were supposed to actually be. It was though big chunks of their personality had become whatever the author needed them to be at the time for the best dramatic effect. And that doesn’t make for good reading – at least not for me.

As for the horror aspect…well, I wasn’t scared, and I’m a complete wimp when it comes to scariness, so that should probably tell you something. To be honest, I was kind of rolling my eyes when the horror aspect started to manifest. I don’t really buy into ‘non-human creations start killing Just Because’. It feels lazy. I wanted an explanation for why Chloe was becoming violent, a good one, and in fairness maybe I would have gotten one if I’d finished the book. But I doubt it, and if we did get one, I doubt it’d be one that would satisfy me. I’m not sure exactly when I lost faith in this author’s promise of a satisfying story, but I definitely did.

And ultimately… I was surprised by how hard I had to work to buy into the capabilities of the mycelium that kickstarts, and is the heart of, Botanical Daughter. I read stories with much stranger premises every day, and have no trouble rolling with whatever Not Real thing is going on! I’m wondering if the problem here was how hard the book tried to convince me? We get excerpts from Gregor’s scientific notes on his experiment, and every single other plant and fungus used in Chloe’s creation is detailed for us – this one to replace arm muscles, this other one to make a tongue, for example. But the flip side of that is that there’s no human brain for the mycelium to infect/manipulate; that’s removed from the corpse. I feel like I would have had an easier time suspending my disbelief if the brain had been left in; at least then it could be something like ophiocordyceps unilateralis – aka zombie-ant fungus. It would feel a little more grounded in the possible. Instead, when Gregor’s mycelium manages to figure out how to see using the body’s eyes – it just felt completely absurd. How can a fungus process sensory input from the eyes? But if there had been a brain, a brain that knew how to process input like that, and the mycelium took over/made use of the brain…? I don’t know, it would have made more sense to me. And because it didn’t make sense, but was tying to, I think something got lost. My ability to believe in it even in fiction, for one.

I don’t know, folx. This one just wasn’t for me.

4.25 stars!

Thank you to Noah Medlock and Titan Books for an ARC in exchange for my full, honest review!

Wow.
ARCs can be very hit or miss for me, gothic horror can be very hit or miss for me, and debut authors can be very hit or miss for me. And yet this beautiful, fucked-up little book just knocked it out of the park.
The writing is absolutely gorgeous and the idea really is so unique. Plant horror tends to miss the mark for me because I feel like the idea has really been overdone but the titular botanical daughter was so elegantly thought out, I loved it. Writing established relationships, such as those between Simon and Gregor or Jennifer and Connie can be really difficult but there were all these little touches about how they interact that really fleshed out the narrative outside of what the pages contain.
My only real note is that I don't know if I would describe this book as horror. It definitely has horror elements but I didn't feel very tense or scared at any point. That's not really a detriment to the story or the writing, I just think the marketing is a little off.
Really, you can't go wrong with this. If you're on the fence, I absolutely recommend giving it a try. If queer plant Frankenstein sounds like something you might like this absolutely delivers.

I couldn't get into this one. I've been stuck at the 20-25% range for the past week. I'm not a big fantasy reader so this can be why. I will say, there are several friends of mine and library patrons that I think will love this story! I will definitely try it out again in the future.

I am so sorry but I am giving up on this book. I made it to 80% but it just hasn't clicked with me. I am confused by the characters' motivations and although I like the aesthetic, the core idea and in some ways the main relationship, mot understanding why the characters act as they do, just keeps getting me unable to engage with the story.

Oh what a macabre fever dream of a book! A Botanical Daughter has turned the Frankenstein monster into a living garden of gothic horrors and this is a circle of mushrooms you very much want to take a step into. You will be transported into a very posh, lush, but reclusive world of two obsessive lovers whose creation is the most haunting and eerie experiment I have yet to have the pleasure to read about. If you enjoy reading dark academia, period pieces, or books with very atmospheric settings this is absolutely a novel for you. This book has solidified my love for a new genre of story that I am calling nauseatingly lovely. That is exactly what this book was. Thank you NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this ghoulish tale. 5 stars!

"A Botanical Daughter" is a mesmerizing literary journey that captivates from the very first page. With exquisite prose and a richly crafted narrative, the author intricately weaves a tale that transports readers into a world of enchantment and mystery. The phrase "Necrotic Greenery" lingers in the mind, emblematic of the book's lush and evocative imagery. Though initially picked up during a busy moment, the book's allure demanded undivided attention, and upon returning to it, it proved to be an utterly rewarding experience. Every page brims with a sense of magic and depth, making this a standout work that leaves a lasting impression.

A queer twist on Frankenstein meets Little Shop of Horrors in this three-part tale exploring the complexities of love and the struggles of remorse.

My only gripe, the one thing holding back that fifth star, is a convoluted relationship with the characters. I believe we spent more time with certain characters than their story impact warranted, but I won't grieve too hard because it didn't distract too much.

I really enjoyed this book. It felt fresh and unique while giving off some familiar comfort vibes. The writing is gorgeous and sassy, and I found myself highlighting portions out of pure awe. Simon and Gregor are so believable in the ups and downs of their relationship, and my heart broke for Jennifer, but Chloe is an absolutely stunning literary accomplishment.

Noah Medlock is an author I'll definitely be following closely,

Oh this was delicious! I went into Noah Medlock's debut novel 'A Botanical Daughter' completely blind, mesmerized by the amazing cover and intrigued by the description. And I'm so happy I stumbled upon this book, because damn, did I have a great time with this.

It's dark and cozy at the same time, telling the story of two men in love, one of them a taxidermist who prefers to spend time in his basement, the other a botanist genius living in his giant greenhouse full of exotic plants. When the botanist, Gregor, receives a very strange fungus specimen with spectacular signs of early intelligence, a new project is born: Not only to create true intelligent plant life, but also a daughter for him and Simon, his taxidermist partner, as rigid Victorian society doesn't allow them to have an actual human child.
What follows is a bizarre and absolutely captivating mix of horror, cottage core and queer romance. I could not put this Frankensteinian story down. It's really well-written, evenly paced, full of humour and gore and love and philosophical questions about humanity woven throughout it all. The vibes are just perfect.
I do think that the character writing could have been improved upon. There are rather jarring moments of the main characters changing their opinions about really important issues without working for it, which felt very spur of the moment and thus unearned. I did like all of the characters involved, but these instances (especially concerning Simon and Gregor's feelings towards their plant child, but Jenny falls victim to it as well) took me out of the narrative at times.
Still, I'd highly recommend this one. It's creative, unique, wonderfully queer and downright fascinating when it's at its best. Easy 4 stars.