There's magic in the monstrous. Something strange leaks through the hyper-conscious language and distorted artifice of these sci-fi tales. Through the cracks slip "the gelatinous body of Captain Aldair," the "stubs that were once his legs," and "burning nubs where his arms had been."
Monstrosity is a self-reflexive text, art holding a mirror to itself, revealing the illusion of cohesion. The body, like art, is an appearance merely, capable at any moment of dissolution.