I picked up 'The Gargoyle' purely because of its ornate front cover and blackened page edges. The old saying warns that you can't judge a book by its cover. On this occasion, however, I hoped that the book's immaculate aesthetics were mirrored in its substance. The book's tagline was disturbingly vague: 'Love is as strong as death, as hard as Hell', which sounds a little too much like one of Pantera's more clichéd track titles. Still, I bought the book, intrigued to see if Andrew Davidson had crafted something new out of arcane gargoyle mythology.
The story begins with a car crash in which the main protagonist, whose name we are never told, is burned beyond recognition. Although the story's main character and narrator does not volunteer his name, he gives the reader myriad insights into his pre-crash self: he worked as a porn star but, despite having experienced thousands of women in the flesh, had never known love; he was selfishly hedonistic when it came to women, drugs and alcohol; he was 'beautiful' (on the outside, at least); he was facing financial troubles. In a perhaps-too-obvious example of poetic justice, his penis was burned off in the post-crash fire.
The narrator has a prolonged stay in the burns unit of a hospital due to the severity of his damage. 'Friends' from his porn career lose interest in him now that he is penisless and of no further use to them. He is visited by a beautiful young woman called Marianne Engel, a patient from the psychiatric ward. Although initially irritated by Marianne Engel, the narrator begins to welcome her visits. She tells him that they knew each other in past lives, and elaborates on these past incarnations, working her way from past to present. Doctors have labelled Marianne Engel schizophrenic, but the reader is left to make up his or her own mind about the truth of that conclusion.
Marianne invites the narrator to live in her house after he leaves hospital. A sculptor of international renown, Marianne has amassed vast wealth through selling her stone-carved creations, not gargoyles but grotesques: creatures with characteristics of more than one species. She alternates between periods of phenomenal - perhaps possessed - creativity and spells of exhaustion and recovery. Andrew Davidson describes Marianne's often-self-destructive behaviour beautifully, leaving it open to interpretation whether she is divine or deranged. Her selfless dedication to the narrator, and the belief with which she tells of their relationships in past lives, leads him to experience love for the first time in this lifetime. This is the message of 'The Gargoyle': that transcendent love has the ability to transform both recipient and giver. Marianne Engel's selfless love recreates the main character from the inside out while she sculpts her grotesques from the outside in.
'The Gargoyle' is a well-written story. My only real criticism is that Davidson frequently delves too deeply into details (such as burn treatments or irrelevant facets of past lives) to the detriment of the story's general flow. That said, 'The Gargoyle' is an enjoyable tale which contains some true originality.