Geoff Ryman
Angry Robot (UK, US: out now)
ON THE face of it, Him is a deliberately provocative book. Geoff Ryman鈥檚 latest science fiction novel is, in short, a retelling of the story of Jesus in which he is transgender.
In its rendering, however, Him is surprisingly unprovocative. That isn鈥檛 to say it is timid or dull. It is just more of a sweet, family story than you might expect. I found it a memorable and thought-provoking read.
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Ryman鈥檚 Jesus is called Yehush (although his name evolves throughout) and he is marvellous. He is a sort of mash-up of Alexander the Great and Joan of Arc, and is extremely mysterious. Your heart is always with him, even though we never see things from his perspective. He burns brightly, performs real miracles and, in the latter stages, is horribly aware that death is coming.
I am no theologian, but I think it is fair to say that this Jesus isn鈥檛 the familiar figure one might remember from religious studies at school. Here, he is a higher power who is learning what it is to be human; he is also, as a fragment of that power, trying to teach God to be better. The world we find ourselves in is very recognisable from Bible stories, however: dusty towns, donkeys, Nazareth, Jerusalem, poverty, leprosy.
Our main point of view for much of the book is that of Yehush鈥檚 mother, here named Maryam. Pregnant yet still a virgin, she has been forced to accept exile with a husband no one else would have chosen. She doesn鈥檛 mind, because she has great expectations for her child.
This brings us to the conflict that keeps you turning pages. Maryam can鈥檛 accept Yehush鈥檚 declaration of manhood. She insists, for years, on calling him a girl, or 鈥渋t鈥�, or 鈥渢he Cub鈥�. She thinks Yehush could have been a great female prophet, but has somehow strayed off course.
Everyone else accepts Yehush as a man. His followers don鈥檛 care about his gender. Even among the stuck-in-the-mud villagers in Nazareth, there are no repercussions for him living exactly as he chooses. But Maryam struggles to get past it.
The book later focuses on Yehush鈥檚 time as a prophet. This part is less accessible than the early struggles between Maryam and Yehush. That is mainly because Maryam, and her point of view, stay at home when Yehush leaves to walk the land.
By the time we join him on the road, his apostles and followers are already assembled, the politics is in full flow and you may struggle to fully understand what is going on, just as Maryam does, and as I did. Perhaps someone better versed in the New Testament and the historical knowledge we have of Jesus wouldn鈥檛 have that problem, though.
So is this a book about gender or about Jesus, or both? I read it as a book about divinity. To embrace her son鈥檚 true nature, Maryam has to cast off old ways of thinking, and her ideas of gender are just part of that. The point is you don鈥檛 get to choose what the divine looks like. But that is just my reading: I am sure a Christian or someone with personal experience of being transgender might read it differently.
One last thing. Him is billed as science fiction. For me, that鈥檚 a stretch. Yehush sometimes speaks of intelligent machines in the future and of parallel worlds. But that is all that separates this from historical fiction/fantasy.
Luckily, as we all know, genre is baloney!
Emily also recommends鈥�
Robert A. Heinlein
Hodderscape
This 1961 classic is the book that Him most reminds me of, although the parallels may not be obvious straight off the bat. I suppose both are about divinity. It also has an all-time great first line: 鈥淥nce upon a time when the world was young there was a Martian named Smith.鈥�
Emily H. Wilson is a former editor of New Scientist. Gilgamesh, the second novel in her Sumerians trilogy, is out later this year. You can find her website at emilyhwilson.com and follow her on X at @emilyhwilson and on Instagram at @emilyhwilson1
