A brother of mine had an advance copy of The Butchering Art and was going to send it to my daughter - his goddaughter - as she has a taste for the gory, and has expressed an interest in studying medicine. "Not so fast," I said, "I think I'll have that." So he sent it to me.
Is there a word that is the opposite of genocide? That's what Lister did.
The Butchering Art is the story of how one man - who stood on the shoulders of giants - transformed medical operations from something of enormous risk into something that none of us needs to face with dread. He was the perfect confluence of character, heritage and circumstance; we often hear of villains whose circumstances contrived to turn them wicked, but seldom do we hear about good people whose circumstances allowed them to fulfill their potential and reach dizzying heights of benevolence.
From the moment the book began, I was hooked. Each chapter sets the scene for the tale to follow: while other books might give you a rather dry context for what's to come, not Dr Fitzharris. She describes the scene where the action is to be set in a way that makes you feel like you're there - the cold, the snowy streets, the stuffy, stinking atmosphere in a filthy operating room...if you ever dream about what it was like to live in times gone by, the author's words will transport you in glorious technicolor. Her uncanny ability to do this continues throughout the book, and I can now conjure up images of nineteenth-century medical circles in a way that I never thought possible. So from an atmospheric point of view, it's a virtuoso performance.
The subject of the book, Joseph Lister, is introduced in a timely manner - just far enough in to give you the social context of his arrival. The journey he took is sensitively written, and you feel for him, especially if you've ever experienced the frustration of self-belief when you are surrounded by naysayers. His life, and his incredible work, are nothing short of utterly inspiring. I feel a huge sense of gratitude to Lister (and of course to the poor, unsung heroes who went before him, like the Hungarian doctor whose name I have already forgotten, like everyone else). The story of Lister's life is one that gives me comfort on many levels. That he did what he did; that it's possible to do something really good and lasting with your life; that you need to remember the bigger picture, even when things aren't going you way.
Another thing I loved about the book is that your curiosity is often piqued by the circumstances of bit-players in the book. For example, a woman is stabbed. The point of this is to tell you how her wound was treated, but the author knows that you want to know whether she got justice, and so she tells you just enough to satisfy, but not so much that the story digresses too much. The same approach is given with other minor characters, and it's perfectly judged.
Yes, the book is very gory, and that isn't my cup of tea, but you quickly get used to that (like most animal lovers the only bit I found hard to read was a description of vivisection on an animal, but it was done in the genuine pursuit of medical advancement, and I have to try to remember that). Besides, the gore and so on was an intrinsic part of Victorian life and is an important contribution to the setting of the scene. The place must have stunk between one thing and another. I don't want to give too much away, but imagine if your doctor came in to operate on you in a filthy apron covered in bits of decaying body, with filthy knives, and to whom it would not occur to wash his hands?
Normally I fall asleep the second I hit the pillow, and I have had late nights and early starts over the last couple of weeks, but I still indulged in a few pages every night - it was a real treat and I hung on every word. I thank the author deeply for the time and effort she gave to writing and researching this book. I only wish she had written an extensive library of such tomes.
A fantastic read that stays with you long after you turn the last page.