A socio-political commentary on gender and war, Alasdair Gray’s Poor Things brings the Victorian era to its knees and asks it, “Why?” The novel is centered around a young woman who is somewhat brought back to life, in a Frankensteinian-type of way. Having the body of a young woman, but the brain of a child, Bella Baxter is a monster. However, it is not because of her being pieced together without consent by a man who felt the godly need to insert himself into her life. It is because she is a woman.
Gray’s novel is set up in a way that is unlike anything else I have ever read. The introduction prepares readers for what is to come as most do. Though, I do not think most will be able to understand the true depth of this warning until they complete the novel. Gray writes, “... readers who know nothing about the daringly experimental history of Scottish medicine will perhaps mistake it for a grotesque fiction. Those who examine the proofs given at the end of this introduction will not doubt that… a surgical genius used human remains to create a twenty-five-year-old-woman” (VII). Initially, the meaning of these lines does seem quite clear. Readers of Poor Things are expected to doubt the probability that a grown woman was reborn to men. However, upon completion of the novel, readers may recognize a second meaning to this warning. It is entirely possible that Gray was commenting on the unfortunate true fact that women often are reborn to men within society. 
The beginning of Gray’s novel easily reads like fiction as it focuses on the chilling creation of Bella Baxter. 
“I was called to examine the body you know as Bella… Geddes saw a young woman climb onto the parapet of the suspension bridge near his home. She did not jump feet first like most suicides. She dived clean under, like a swimmer but expelling the air from her lungs, not drawing it in, for she did not return to the surface alive” (32). 
This passage alone reflects both contexts of the message that Gray leaves readers in the introduction early on. While it is possible that these lines are simple plot narration, it is equally possible that Gray is commenting on the way in which women have historically had no say in how to dictate their own lives. Bella, for reasons unknown to the reader, was in control of her life the day that she decided to leave it behind. Though she may not have had any say in the dreadful manner in which she arrived at this tragic decision, she was able to put an end to it. Sometimes, that is all anyone wants. 
For Godwin Baxter to believe that he knew what Bella needed reflects the indirect play on words regarding his nickname, God. He made a decision that was not his to make, as many men of a certain stature have throughout history for more than just the women of certain communities, but for everyone in them. As the novel progresses, this Feminist-focused discussion continues as readers observe Bella’s attempt to reject gender roles and political limitations. Personally, I believe that whether or not Bella (later known as Victoria) is successful in rejecting gender roles and political beliefs set onto her by those around her is not the key element at the heart of this novel. Instead, I believe it is the question of why women are still subject to a select group of elite men, or women who embrace the masculine roles of their cohort in order to establish themselves, making decisions for them. Why are these moments simply accepted for what they are instead of analyzed and adapted for the better?
"’And that is why you should marry me, Bella. You will be my slave in law, but not in fact.’"
- Gray, Poor Things, pg. 155.

    With perception at its core, Barnes’ novel travels alongside an imprisoned man and a famous author attempting to help him earn his freedom. While additional themes of the novel include racial injustice, legal injustice, and faith are of equal importance and presence in this novel, equally deserving of attention is the possibility of Barnes’ play on words and the commentary it provides into Barnes’ own thoughts about perception.
    The novel shifts between two male leads, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji. The former, though, offers an interesting play on words as he is Arthur the author of the incredible stories of the detective known as Sherlock Holmes. Arthur, the author, the creator of narratives and “palaces built out of paragraphs”1. Sir Arthur’s profession offers several interesting roads to travel. The first being that his job solely requires him to both create narratives and sell them. If an author publishes a story that is incapable of enticing an audience no matter how large or small, they surely are not a good one. While spinning yarns might be an admirable talent, consider this in connection with a legal case. Are men and women convicted off of a good story or evidence? Should the justice system be swayed by evidence or an enthralling theory? The American justice system is set up in a way that individuals should be considered innocent until proven guilty by a jury of their peers, who shall only convict them if they are without reasonable doubt. Whether Americans are tried fairly in this way, whether George was tried fairly in a similar way within America’s parent country, leads us to our next point about Barnes’ many interpretations of perception found in Sir Arthur’s name.
    To be an author goes beyond telling and selling a story. As mentioned, this blog is run by a Graduate student at Wright State University. In my own seminar class, two colleagues offered insight into what Arthur’s name could mean. Trey Brown offered that Arthur’s name-play is interesting in the way that an author sometimes knows the ending they wish to reach, and will create a narrative to assist them in reaching it. Sir Arthur decides immediately that George is innocent. He expresses that he not only thinks George is innocent, he “knows” George is (Barnes, 270). Brown’s insight suggests, in connection to a legal case, that it is highly likely an author might be missing evidence that does not fit the narrative they have decided on. When looking for things to prove George’s innocence, Sir Arthur negates what might prove George’s guilt (Barnes, 309). Another classmate, Kendra Fields, offers that because Sir Arthur is the author who created such a whimsically intelligent and astute detective, he is often perceived as an equally intelligent detective. This fictional credibility may transfer to the real members of the jury in a way that makes them eager to believe the same thing that Sir Arthur eagerly wants to prove. This, again, reflects the fragility of the legal system as people with influence are often able to sway cases one way or another without much evidence.
    These roads that map out the possible meaning of Sir Arthur’s name could reflect Barnes’ own awareness of the power in his profession, and thus his understanding of the power of perception. As an author, Barnes has the chance to wield the same power as Sir Arthur, the power to persuade others to buy into their own narrative. Barnes highlights not only the power of persuasion in literature but the power of persuasion in unjust legal systems.

"’You will only see him with the eyes of faith.’"
- Barnes, Arthur & George, pg. 325.

1. “Burn”, Hamilton, 2015