Morris as he places Peter Capaldi’s Doctor, alongside Bill Potts and Nardole in the thick of the deadly contagion. Jonathan Morris invokes that heightened sense of realism, of the nature of the disease and how it is rampant in a world of overcrowding and unsanitary conditions, all in which immediately brings a sense of misery and sorrow in itself to the mind of the reader who relishes the writer’s work for Doctor Who and the stories he has created.Īnybody with the scantest of regard for history, for the fondness of learning about the past, will know of the great plague that was burnt out in London by the fires started in Pudding Lane, and yet in 1645 Edinburgh itself was torn apart by Plague, just as deadly, just as terrifying and one that is captured fully by Mr. It is the fear that it would come to an overcrowded and built up populace, where there is no escape, bad enough in the 14 th Century, decimating in the 17 th, now imagine Paris under siege, Hamburg off limits, Edinburgh reduced to a Plague City. We may owe our existence to the fact that our forbearers had some immunity to this deadly and most disgusting of diseases, but it still makes news when an outbreak is notices on some Indian Ocean island or in a state national park. It is a disease that somehow has managed to invade the very well of fears and become the very identity in which we realise that our lives are but feeding grounds to pestilence and sickness, arguably no other disease has struck as much terror into the hearts of humanity than that of Yersinia Pestis, the Bubonic Plague, the Black Death whichever quaint word you choose to give it, it boils down to the same sense of heightened emotions, death that is painful, contagious, virulent and almost mercy.

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