Public Anatomy by A. Scott Pearson

 

Published by Oceanview on March 7, 2011

The word I would use to describe Public Anatomy is: fun. It takes an amusing, irreverent look at medicine and doctors while delivering an absorbing, fast moving story. Primary characters have engaging personalities while minor characters are summed up in two or three sharp sentences that bring them to life. That's a talent I wish more thriller writers would develop.

Public Anatomy opens with a robotic hysterectomy -- robotic in the sense that the surgeon, Dr. Liza French, controls robotic instruments from a remote station. The operation is webcast in what amounts to an extended commercial for the hospital, a potentially lucrative advertisement until a mishap covers the video camera in the unfortunate patient's blood. Dr. French blames the machinery for the patient's death -- the second time she's done so. The novel's starring role, however, goes not to Dr. French but to Dr. Eli Branch, who was apparently featured in A. Scott Pearson's last novel, Rupture (which I have not read). Rather improbably, the FBI recruits him (more or less against his will) to look into the botched robotic surgeries -- a job that is complicated by the relationship that Branch had with French when they worked together as interns.

Meanwhile, murder victims are turning up in the city. A foot bone has been removed from one, a tongue from the next, and the pattern continues in subsequent killings. The killer is dubbed "The Organist." Branch gets pulled into that investigation as well, this time working with a Memphis police detective. Initially, it appears that the connection between the Organist's victims should be obvious to any cop doing even a minimal investigation, but Pearson employs some clever misdirection; the link is less clear than it seems. The relationship between the murders and the surgical deaths is more puzzling and the resolution was unexpected: I didn't see it coming.

Every now and then, Pearson tosses in a very funny scene: Branch flushing maggots from a patient's head with a WaterPik; police officers sharing a moment of silence in mutual respect for Kojak. Much of the novel has a lighthearted tone. Some readers might think that tone is inappropriate for a thriller, but I thought it worked. Pearson doesn't inundate the reader with medical jargon but he doesn't dumb down the narrative either. The middle of the novel includes a mercifully brief lesson in the history of anatomy and a mini-biography of a Sixteenth Century anatomist. Pearson made those subjects sufficiently interesting to hold my attention. In the midst of all this Pearson makes a significant point about how modern medicine has shifted from a hands-on approach that maximized interaction with the patient to a technological (even robotic) approach that detaches the practitioner from the patient.

So the novel worked for me, but it isn't perfect. Pearson is better at medical drama than police procedure. The detective gives Branch a critical piece of evidence without logging it into evidence or placing it into an evidence bag, a breach of protocol that would risk the loss of a real world detective's job. The FBI's use of coercion to enlist Branch's assistance is perfectly credible but its desire for Branch's help isn't. Nor does it make sense that the FBI would investigate the death of French's patients. Even if the agents had reason to suspect that the deaths were due to anything beyond negligence, it's difficult to see what federal crime they were investigating (as opposed to their investigation of corruption in the biotechnology industry, which is more in line with what the FBI actually does). The implications of robotic technology that might malfunction seems like one of the book's driving themes until it's inexplicably dropped in favor of other storylines. Since these flaws don't detract significantly from the story, however, I recommend Public Anatomy to readers looking for a fun, lighthearted medical thriller.

RECOMMENDED