Published September 27, 2022 by Tordotcom
In an isolated chateau, as far north as north goes, the baron’s doctor has died. The doctor’s replacement has a mystery to solve: discovering how the Institute lost track of one of its many bodies.
For hundreds of years the Interprovincial Medical Institute has grown by taking root in young minds and shaping them into doctors, replacing every human practitioner of medicine. The Institute is here to help humanity, to cure and to cut, to cradle and protect the species from the apocalyptic horrors their ancestors unleashed.
In the frozen north, the Institute's body will discover a competitor for its rung at the top of the evolutionary ladder. A parasite is spreading through the baron's castle, already a dark pit of secrets, lies, violence, and fear. The two will make war on the battlefield of the body. Whichever wins, humanity will lose again.
Leech is a baffling gothic body-horror-filled affair and one in which, I was not totally sold...at first. Intrigued? You should be. It's most likely the most inscrutable read of my entire year (2022 that is). I started Leech initially thinking I was getting a drafty cold chateau set in a bleak snowy landscape with a parasite on the loose—and it delivered that but also much more. So much, in fact, that I initially gave up on it completely at a loss of what was occurring and resigned it to the DNF pile, but when I saw the audiobook, I decided to give it another shot. The narration was exactly what I needed to wade through the details and pique my interest again.
When we first meet the doctor, they are arriving by train through a wintry desolate landscape to the frozen grounds of the Château de Verdira. It's the perfect gothic setting. The doctor has come after the death of the previous doctor to uncover exactly what caused the death. From there it only gets stranger. The doctor is part of the "The Institute" and has only just arrived, but seems to know all the inhabitants of the Château already. How is this? Well, that's part of Leech's charm.
This book is dense. The language is stilted and the narrative constantly jumps; past, future, person to person, sometimes it's many voices at once in a strange mind share. The pacing is constantly speeding up and then slowing down. The setting seems primitive and yet the baron is kept alive by an innumerable amount of machinery, tubing, levers, and dials. There are talks of vestigial tails and a vendigeaux side by side with plastiophages and old nuclear plants. You get some answers, and more questions until it culminates in a fantastical ending. The trick of Leech is reading without the expectation to comprehend. It truly is dropping you in the middle of a myriad of things and tromping along until it makes sense in a very ah-ha manner.
It's a curious beast of medical horror, sci-fi, and old-school gothic. It's body horror all wrapped up in existential dread and dubious bodily autonomy. It's vivid, disgusting things of mucous and fluids, of black tendrils and blood. It's a difficult read, but one where you get to the end, sit back and ruminate before deciding whether or not you truly enjoyed the read.