The cover opens in a way that exposes the inner edges of the book signatures: the spine is not glued to them, and only the back cover is partly—and unnervingly—attached to the last page. The signatures are not thread-sewn, as it turns out. They are, in fact, a set of saddle-stitched booklets, simply glued together. Saddle-stitched with wire staples—one imagines that Baron Frankenstein might have used some of them when he was creating his monster. One of the booklets—or signatures—is attached to the front cover, separating itself from the others. It gives the effect of physically “breaking” the spine and tearing apart the book by opening it. But there is a plainer reason for this separation: the first booklet contains the German translation, while the rest are devoted to the original, unabridged English text, all set in a clear sans-serif type.

Then there are pictures, many of which are of medical or scientific nature. Some look contemporary, while others seem like out of certain esoteric archives. Sometimes the pictures are juxtaposed or overlapped with text, while on some pages they are left alone. The pictures have uncanny quality, underpinning the gothic elements of the story. But one can also sense a certain knowingness, especially in the pictures of the universe and the micro-universe reproduced in full-color on glossy paper: they exude—or are meant to evoke—popular-spiritual awe, in a similar way that the pictures from Carl Sagan’s Cosmos do.