Poor Things

Set in a foggy, disease-drilled nineteenth-century Glasgow, this story follows Archibald McCandless, a young medical student drawn into the orbit of the brilliant yet eccentric surgeon Godwin Baxter. Archibald’s world expands when he meets Bella Baxter, a striking and seemingly childlike woman who lives under Godwin’s watchful care. According to Archibald’s memoir-like account, Bella is the product of a radical experiment: Godwin discovers the body of a pregnant woman who had drowned and revives her by implanting the brain of her unborn fetus into the adult body. The result, he claims, is a new life—Bella—who bears the form of a grown woman but the mind of a newborn. The premise sits at the heart of the tale, inviting readers to weigh science against humanity, memory against truth, and ambition against love.

Under the guidance of Godwin and Archibald, Bella grows quickly in intellect and spirit. She becomes curious, assertive, and sexually liberated, unfurling a sense of self that resists the expectations of her era. Although Archibald falls in love with her, Bella refuses to be reduced to a romantic ideal. Her restlessness drives her to embark on a whirlwind journey across Europe and the Middle East, traveling with the decadent lawyer Duncan Wedderburn. Along the way, she confronts the inequalities, hypocrisy, and absurdities that define Victorian society, experiencing firsthand how power and wealth can entrench oppression. Wedderburn’s affection for Bella is complicated by his perception of her as a possession, not a partner, a realization that fills her with disillusionment and prompts a risky escape from his orbit. She eventually returns to Glasgow, carrying with her the experiences that have reshaped her view of the world.

Back home, Bella becomes a force for social change. She champion’s women’s rights, public health, and broader social reform, turning her personal awakening into a public mission. Her partnership with Archibald evolves into an equal, deliberate union built on mutual respect, shared political ideals, and a shared hunger to improve the lives of the poor and to challenge the pretensions of the upper class. Together, they strive to dismantle outdated moral structures and to reimagine what a committed partnership can look like in a world resistant to change. The relationship is framed as a political act as much as a personal bond, a deliberate stance against hypocrisy and complacency.

Yet, the narrative’s reveal turns everything on its head. A letter from Bella—now living as Victoria McCandless—undermines the memoir Archibald penned. She exposes the resurrection tale as a fabrication, a romantic fantasy contrived by Archibald to mythologize their bond and mask his own sense of loss and failure. Bella insists she was always a fully formed, intelligent person, and that the life she led with Godwin and later Archibald diverged entirely from the fairy tale he wrote. This revelation casts doubt on the entire recollection the reader has followed, transforming the work into a postmodern puzzle about truth, memory, and how stories are shaped by those who tell them. The novel leaves readers contemplating how narratives are crafted, who holds power over memory, and what it means to seek authentic connection in a world where stories can be as persuasive as facts.

In the end, the tale invites us to reflect on the boundaries between science and humanity, between belief and evidence, and between the stories we tell about ourselves and the lives we actually lead. It remains a meditation on agency, partnership, and the perennial tension between idealized dreams and imperfect realities, all set against a richly described backdrop of a changing era.

Last Updated: October 01, 2025 at 13:04