The title of this post pretty much sums up my feelings on He, She and It. As cool as the cyborg business was (I'm sure you're all excited about reopening the debate we had about Mike), suffice it to say that I was not prepared for this exploration of female psychology and sexuality. Most of the chapters left me emotionally drained, while others simply filled me with disgust or dismay. Don't get me wrong; I think this is a very fascinating, well-written novel. As I read it, however, I realized that the only chapters I was enjoying were the ones Malkah told to Yod about the Maharal and Joseph.
After thinking about why that might be, I came to an unusual conclusion. The biggest difference between the Maharal's story and the main plot is the former's focus on male protagonists. These anecdotes are the only sequences in the book in which the story is told from a male perspective (even if it's being told by a sympathetic Malkah). Somehow I found myself able to relate much better to these characters than to any of the women in the book.
Then again, perhaps that has something to do with the strong dislike I felt for Shira, who seemed to have nothing but her own narrow interest in mind throughout the book. Malkah was a bit better, but Shira was the driving narrative voice, so her actions and attitudes spilled over into Malkah's chapters, even if Malkah disapproved of them.
I've also noticed that this book seems to treat marriage as though it's toxic, suffocating to a woman's intellect at best. Marriage was only mentioned in terms of failure; I defy you to demonstrate an instance of happy marriage in this book that does not end in the traumatizing death of one of the spouses (usually the husband, in what I fear may be a form of wish fulfillment for the author).
The more I think about the author's view towards men, the suspicious I get. Take Nili's hidden society, for instance. They have reached that long-sought dream of some women, an Amazonian society where men are totally unnecessary in the reproductive process (not as far off as you might think!). That society is described in the glowingest of terms, and it seems freedom from men has given them the time and energy to create technological marvels, even without the collected technical know-how of the rest of humanity (via the Net).
As one more example of the author's complete hatred of men, observe the main antagonist, Y-S, and how many times it is stated that Y-S is male dominated.
So Piercy is laying it on pretty thick. Men can be summarized, in her worldview, as violent and unnecessary. Women can be forgiven for following their instincts, even those that lead to destruction, since female instincts are ultimately nurturing. Even the creative impulses of men, however, are rooted in their desires to destroy, and that is all that will come of their work. How depressing! Piercy has taught me to either despise my gender or distrust her book.
Let's talk about Yod, then. In my comment on Kaitlin's post, I raised the question of whether Yod would consider himself superior to us. From our perspective, it seems like a simple comparison: Yod is faster, stronger, easily repaired and great in the sack. His only disadvantage is a lack of experience, but that will be corrected in time. Cyborgs, then, must be the next stage, or at least something like them (suggested by the augmentations sported by Nili and her people). However, Yod spends the whole book attempting to become more human. He is programmed to reprogram himself, and in doing so he makes himself more than the weapon he was created to be. Yet the weapon at his core remains; despite all the influence of Malkah, Yod viewed Avram as his creator, and in this particular set of internal consistencies, that means destruction.
The qualities that make Yod such an ideal tool of destruction (his strength, skill in the Net, tactical ability and built-in ordnance), except perhaps for the explosive element, are all things we normal humans are envious of. However, they separated Yod from humanity, condemning him to a brief and violent life. I am positive that he would have traded his enhanced capacities for real flesh and blood, and the assurance that he feels what others feel, in a heartbeat. We may worry at times that our futures are set in stone, and our actions are already written on the wheel of fate, but none of us have to face that fact in our lifetimes like Yod did. Uncertainty about the future is not such a terrible thing, and a trait I'm sure Yod would value higher than any of his cyborg attributes. Like Joseph, his creation was a work of genius that resulted in something less capable, in all respects other than physical strength, than any real human.
Finally, I'd like to point out the interesting combination of Mother-Maiden-Crone in Malkah, Riva, and Shira. However, I'd place Shira in the Mother role, with Riva as the Maiden. Ridiculous, I know! But an afterthought. Bear with me.
Through the power of relativity, a million-year picnic may pass in an hour.
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Something has been bothering me about your professed uncomfortable feelings with this book and I think it finally occurred to me: I agree with your statement that the sections written from the female perspective were more difficult to relate to. It just took me a while to come to the conclusion that as a female I felt I should have been more comfortable with those portions, and since I wasn't, it brought into question my femininity. Ha. Oh well.
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