If you think you've read all the interesting books about cyborgs and their complex interactions with humans, think again. Marge Piercy has delved into time-honored cyborg themes with a fresh perspective. "He, She, and It" gets a "strong +" because this novel has it all-- excellent characterization, intelligent exploration of difficult and interesting questions, and a good plot on top of it all.
Many aspects of this book resonate with familiar cyberpunk themes. It is set in the near future when multinational corporations have divided up the globe and play the role of countries. Most humans live in the "Glop" (the Megalopolis), scraping out an existence amidst the gang warfare or else tubing into the corporate enclaves to serve as day laborers. The educated people live in the enclaves, devoting their lives (and indeed their souls) to their corporation, which dictates everything from their dress code to their sexual mores. Only a small portion of the population lives in Free States or other noncorporate entities, and these subsist by selling unique products to the multis. The Earth's recent past is checkered with plagues, warfare, and environmental degradation.
But wait. You haven't read this book before. "He, She, and It" goes far beyond its basic setting. It is the story of a few citizens of Tikva, one of the Free States. Tikva is a mainly Jewish state that sells software and other sophisticated computer products to the multis. Shira Shipman left Tikva for college and then signed on with a multi. She tried to live the normal corporate life and traditional family life, but she never fit in well and eventually her marriage dissolved. Her ex-husband was awarded custody of their son, Ari. So Shira returns to Tikva, looking for a new life at the age of 28.
There we meet her grandmother Malkah, who raised Shira in the absence of her mother, Riva, and who is one of the cleverest programmers in the world. We meet Avram, who tinkers with intelligent machines and dreams of making a humaniform cyborg that can live among people (although humaniform cyborgs are illegal). We meet Avram's son Gadi, Shira's teenage love, who is now a famous creator of "stimmies," entertainment in which the viewer experiences the sensations of the actor. Soon enough, Riva reappears, complicating the whole scene since Shira has only met her a few times.
Shira is recruited to work on the final stages of Avram's latest project: the cyborg Yod. Yod (the tenth letter of the Hebrew alphabet, and Avram's tenth attempt) appears to be the cyborg that will make it-- his predecessors have been violent, stupid, or both. But Yod seems well tempered, perhaps because Avram let Malkah program much of the code that relates to his interaction with humans. Shira's job is to socialize Yod and make him ready to pass as human.
That is because Avram has a plan for Yod. The Free States are always under the threat of attack from the multis, who would like to fold them into their control. The world is getting more dangerous; Tikva needs a protector. Yod is the perfect weapon, equally adept at navigating the Net-- the cyberworld of communication that runs parallel to real life, as our Internet does-- and at fighting hand-to-hand in the service of Tikva.
Shira does her job, but finds that working with Yod begins to challenge her assumptions about what is human and what is machine. Can she really be starting to like this object? Can it really be speaking with her as if expressing desires and emotions and curiosity? Is it thinking, and if not, how does she know that she is thinking?
Piercy approaches these themes with a different perspective than has been used in other such tales. The relationship between Shira and Yod is more vibrant and nuanced than any other I've read. And fold into this the complications with Avram and Malkah. Did Avram create Yod partly as an improvement on Gadi, who didn't turn out like he wanted? And Malkah seems to have added some apparently feminine behaviors to Yod's otherwise masculine basis-- and why not? What does it mean for a robot to have gender? Why would human concepts even apply?
Running parallel to the main plot is an equally important thread. Malkah narrates a story about the past-- about the Jews of Prague just prior to the Thirty-Years' War. We hear the tale of the rabbi Judah Loew, who created a golem to protect his people from the Christian mobs who constantly threatened their small corner of the city. The golem Joseph must be socialized to interact with humans, which he learns to do passably. He becomes friends with Chava, Judah's granddaughter, who eventually figures out his true nature.
The two tales are separated by several centuries, but the themes echo each other perfectly in fascinating ways. Piercy has done a masterful job recognizing and relating the similarities between three actions:
But it's not over yet. Yod (and Joseph the Golem) must still have their purposes tested. Tikva comes under attack by Shira's old multi. They dangle her son as bait and try to kill Malkah. I won't reveal the details after this point-- the book is too good to spoil it.
Yod was created for a purpose and was programmed to be loyal. But he was also given intelligence and even sentience, which inevitably led to the ability to make his own choices. Malkah made his programming flexible-- and self-alterable, so that he could change himself as time passed. Like anyone, he began with some "base programming," but was shaped by the particular people he learned from and the specific experiences he had.
How does it all turn out for Yod, Shira, Malkah, Avram, Joseph, and Rabbi Loew? You'll have to read "He, She, and It." It's a far more sophisticated exploration of cyborg themes than Asimov or "Star Trek" gave us.
PS: Marge Piercy is an exellent story-teller in general. Check out her other books too.
Copyright © Kim Allen 2002
