Helpful Score: 1
From the back cover:
A monster fetus? in the woods adjacent to a genetic engineering laboratory? Nonsense. But the very idea excites the gutter press, threatens the reputation of a research company and provides cover for at least one murder.
Fearful Symmetry's densely written, atmospheric plot is set in Brighton, its high tech offices, famous Victorian sea front and high profile gay communities. Sam Carter, a street-savvy lesbian, is the private investigator who sifts through the suspects: religious fundamentalists, gay sadists and one androgynous adolescent runaway.
"I saw a little baby. A dead little baby. It were a tiny thing, no bigger than six inches long." Her voice rose in pitch and volume till it became a wail, seeming to reverberate through the treetops.
'And what did it look like Sandra?' Sarah's voice was gently insistent. But the girl needed no prompting.
"I'll tell you what it looked like." She took a sobbing breath that rattled in her throat. A hush of excitement and expectancy fell among the assembled crowd. They had heard the story already, knew it by heart, perhaps, but like children themselves, were thrilled to hear its retelling.
"It had the head of a human child and the body of a goat!"
A monster fetus? in the woods adjacent to a genetic engineering laboratory? Nonsense. But the very idea excites the gutter press, threatens the reputation of a research company and provides cover for at least one murder.
Fearful Symmetry's densely written, atmospheric plot is set in Brighton, its high tech offices, famous Victorian sea front and high profile gay communities. Sam Carter, a street-savvy lesbian, is the private investigator who sifts through the suspects: religious fundamentalists, gay sadists and one androgynous adolescent runaway.
"I saw a little baby. A dead little baby. It were a tiny thing, no bigger than six inches long." Her voice rose in pitch and volume till it became a wail, seeming to reverberate through the treetops.
'And what did it look like Sandra?' Sarah's voice was gently insistent. But the girl needed no prompting.
"I'll tell you what it looked like." She took a sobbing breath that rattled in her throat. A hush of excitement and expectancy fell among the assembled crowd. They had heard the story already, knew it by heart, perhaps, but like children themselves, were thrilled to hear its retelling.
"It had the head of a human child and the body of a goat!"
This is a true crime book about women killers.
