Tuesday 31 March 2020

Halfway Human


Carolyn Ives Gilman Halfway Human (1989)
I read Gilman's Arkfall last month and was reminded that it was amazing, and that somewhere or other I'd made a mental note to read more. It's taken me a while, but has been mostly worth it. Arkfall gave me the impression of an author who is particularly adept at writing weird, unfamiliar environments - much as was Brian Aldiss - yet with the focus on human interaction and plausible characters lending her work a quite different, and frankly refreshing, tone to that of many of her contemporaries.

Halfway Human, apparently occupying the same continuity as Arkfall, explores a post-human society through the travails of one of its dissidents, specifically a subterranean post-human society divided into male, female, and a third, ungendered slave caste. Given the premise, it's probably no great surprise that this might be considered feminist science-fiction, but Gilman writes without any of the slightly wearying didactic quality of, of the top of my head, Smilin' Margaret Attwood, expanding her argument to encompass social power structures in the broadest possible sense, and all aspects of the small print without even a trace of generalisation. Most impressive of all is that the argument unfolds and reflects upon itself at an absolutely natural pace without any sense of either slogans or shoehorns.

Our main character is Tedla, a representative of the aforementioned ungendered slave caste, or a bland as they are termed, and through it - being neither he nor she - Gilman examines pretty much everything which has been shitty about our own society since records began, from the small scale of rape, coercion, and even just taking others for granted, to class, capitalism, and the evils of hierarchy. Described as such it probably doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun, and fun isn't exactly the word in any case, but it is compelling, and, rather oddly, is compelling in the same way that Jane Eyre is compelling with similar emphasis on the personal perspective, and even a narrative rhythm not unlike that of Jane coming to realise that Rochester is kind of an arsehole in certain respects.

Older readers may recall my stating that the wait has been mostly worth it, back during the heady days of the first paragraph when we were all much younger than we are now; and I say mostly because, for all that it's an unusually powerful and well-written novel, Halfway Human feels just a little too long, long enough to communicate what are fairly complex arguments - as it should be - but unfortunately so long as to tread water at a couple of points, particularly the courtroom dramas which feel a little as though we're having the plot and its subtext explained to us all over again; but as a criticism, this is a minor one which I mention only because I felt it got in the way of everything the book otherwise does so well. I probably still prefer Arkfall for its brevity, and for doing something so unusual at such a modest word count, but it's a close run race, and it's been a while since I read something with such emphasis on message which spoke so clearly or so well.

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