"It
was as if Pris, to me, were both life itself - and anti-life, the dead,
the cruel, the cutting and rending, and yet also the spirit of
existence itself. Movement: she was motion itself. Life in its growing,
planning, calculating, harsh, thoughtless actuality. I could not stand
having her around me; I could not stand being without her. Without Pris I
dwindled away until I became nothing and eventually died like a bug in
the backyard, unnoticed and unimportant; around her I was slashed,
goaded, cut to pieces, stepped on - yet somehow I lived: in that, I was
real."
Sure, there's new wave sf elements in PKD's We Can Build You but above all this is a tale of obsession, of infatuation, of a love so toxic, so overwhelming, it brings on madness.
Below is my We Can Build You
highlight reel that hits on two prime PKD themes then quickly shifts
focus to, as noted above, what I judge the juiciest part of this
captivating novel: the mental breakdown of Phil's first-person narrator,
a thirty-three-year-old everyday kind of guy by the name of Louis
Rosen.
SIMULACRUM
Fans of American history will take delight
Phil includes two simulacrum: Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War for
Lincoln during the Civil War, and Abraham Lincoln himself. What's
particularly noteworthy: both think and act in a more appealing, more
compassionate and much more clearheaded, rational way than the humans.
And Phil has Abe Lincoln engage in a lively exchange addressing the
question 'What is a man?' - one of the most thought-provoking and
philosophic sections of the novel. Phil goes on to feature a third
simulacrum (I wouldn't want to say who it is so as to spoil) but what I
will say is the inclusion of this simulacrum adds much laugh-out-loud
humor to what is already a very funny novel.
READ ESTATE RACKETEER
Phil would go on to write about the land developers' Southern California sprawling nightmare in A Scanner Darkly. In We Can Build You,
published in 1972, we have sleazy Sam K. Barrows, a multimillionaire
forever on the lookout to stack up even more profit. Sam has the idea to
use simulacrum to pose as humans on the moon to entice real humans to
buy his property and settle there themselves. When Rosen hears about
Barrows, he observes: “The man who polluted the untouched other worlds.”
Rosen knows full well the salesmen working for Barrows have been
selling his glowingly-described Lunar lots from offices all over the
United States.
PRIS
Rosen's business partner Maury invites
Rosen to stay over at his house after an exhausting day on the road.
Maury explains how daughter Pris is now home since her release from a
mental health clinic in Kansas City run by the Federal Government. The
Federal Bureau of Mental Health tested Pris back when she was a high
schooler and picked up her schizophrenia.
Rosen sees her for the
first time as an eighteen-year-old adult. “I saw a little hard,
heartshaped face, with a widow's crown, black hair, and due to her odd
make-up, eyes outlined in black, a Harlequin effect, and almost purple
lipstick: the whole color scheme made her appear unreal and doll-like,
lost somewhere back behind the mask which she had created out of her
face.” Rosen goes on to describe Pris as looking like a skinny
dance of death creation but, for all that, she looked good. “Her eyes
burned with a wild, intense flame, which both startled and impressed
me.”
Turns out, the Stanton simulacrum was Pris's idea. And,
although the electronics genius in Rosen's small-time business built the
Stanton, Pris is the one who designed it. This to say, Rosen quickly
comprehends Pris possesses a creative mind. And during this very first
time in the house with Pris, there's this exchange:
"How's your out-patient psychoanalysis coming," I asked her.
"Fine. How's yours?"
"I don't need it," I said.
"That's where you're wrong. You're very sick, just like me." She smiled up at me. "Face facts."
Pris'
artistic talent and self-absorbed craziness combined with her insight
into his own mental instability act like a powerful drug for Louis
Rosen. A very powerful drug.
The next day Rosen drives back to
Boise for the Stanton simulacrum with Pris at the wheel. Pris asks him
probing questions: his real reasons for driving with her, why he isn't
married, his childhood dreams, his shameful sexual practices. She teases
him about his being too uptight and his emotional hangups.
And over the next weeks, after a few more interactions with Pris, we're reading about a man driven by maniacal obsession leading him to a return visit to a psychiatrist and failing the Federal Government's standard psychological test. As mandated by law, Rosen is sent to a Federal Clinic where he receives hallucinogens as a major part of his treatment.
In addition to addressing futuristic technologies and social issues, We Can Build You
is a sweet tale tracing the steps of a man overwhelmed by love of a
certain kind and consequently suffering psychotic breakdown. And,
incidentally, this is one novel where PKD takes a rather positive view
of psychiatrists and government institutions - and artificial
intelligence.
American author Philip K. Dick, 1928-1982
“I even gave up, for a while, stopping by the window of the room to look
out at the lights and deep, illuminated streets. That's a form of
dying, that losing contact with the city like that.”
― Philip K. Dick, We Can Build You
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