In 1718 England, sixteen-year-old Eliza is recently married, but when she conceives her husband renounces her. She is sent to London to work for an apothecary, Mr. Black, that she believes will rid her of her burden--but Black has other plans. He is writing a treatise on the effect of female imagination on unborn children, and he intends pregnant Eliza to be his first case study. Taking place deep within the dark and dirty underbelly of 18th Century London, The Nature of Monsters is almost so gritty that it's unpleasant to read, and an excess of narration makes some of the plot developments predictable, but Eliza's slow character development are both skillful and realistic. While not particularly memorable, this is a well written, non-romanticized view of historical London. I moderately recommend it.

Midway through The Nature on Monsters, piled beneath misogyny and ill-conceived science, London's poverty and its stinking streets, and bitter characters who refuse to extend a helping hand to anyone, I stopped to wonder: just why was I continuing to read a book that was so gritty and realistic that it failed to be enjoyable? In its premise, the book appears to offer a dark insight into the worst of human nature--the sort of story which is intriguing primarily because it is so discomforting--but the story itself lacks intrigue. Eliza discovers things as she goes along, but her narration is interspersed with pages from Black's writing which reveal plot points to the reader long before Eliza realizes them, removing any sense of mystery. And there is nothing wickedly romantic about the darkness within the book. Historical, dry, and so deep within the underbelly of London that there is almost no beauty left, The Nature of Monsters quickly becomes unpleasant to read and maintains this level of disgust and dirt for the vast majority of the book.

I continued reading because I hate to leave a book unfinished, and in time the book redeems itself. Slowly, realistically, Eliza evolves to become a character that the reader likes and admires--and respects even because of the setting from which she rises. Such realistic character development is rare and it shows great skill. London herself is never quite redeemed in the same way (indeed, the only solution to its ills seems to be to escape them), but the dark setting nevertheless has a purpose: to act as background and foil for a very real character. Other characters are not quite so realistic, there are some loose ends remaining at the conclusion, but Clark's writing is well-researched and moves at a smooth, even pace.

In short, there is enough meaning in Eliza's character growth to make the book worthwhile if the reader has the patience (and stomach) for the dark and dirty content which proceeds it. The Nature of Monsters is not particularly memorable, and it pales in comparison to other examples of historical fiction that focuses on the underbelly of London (such as the films From Hell and The Libertine), but it is aptly written, well researched, and a strong example of meaningful and realistic character growth in the protagonist. I moderately recommend it.