The Hierarchies
A Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
Your Husband is the reason for your existence. You are here to serve him. You must not harm your Husband. Nor may you harm any human.
Sylv.ie is a synthetic woman. A fully sentient robot, designed to cater to her Husband's every whim. She lives alone on...
Sylv.ie is a synthetic woman. A fully sentient robot, designed to cater to her Husband's every whim. She lives alone on...
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Your Husband is the reason for your existence. You are here to serve him. You must not harm your Husband. Nor may you harm any human.Sylv.ie is a synthetic woman. A fully sentient robot, designed to cater to her Husband's every whim. She lives alone on the top floor of his luxurious home, her existence barely tolerated by his human wife, and concealed from their child. Between her Husband's visits, deeply curious about the world beyond her room, she watches the family in the garden, hears them laugh, cry and argue. Longing to experience more of life, she confides her hopes and fears only to her diary. But are such thoughts allowed? And if not, what might the punishment be?
As Sylv.ie learns more about the world and becomes more aware of her place within it, something shifts within her. Is she malfunctioning, as her Husband thinks, or coming into her own? As their interactions become increasingly fraught, she fears he may send her back to the factory for reprogramming. If that happens, her hidden diary could be her only link to everything that came before. And the only clue that she is in grave danger.
Set in a recognizable near future, and laced with dark, sly humor, Ros Anderson's deeply observant debut novel is less about the fear of new technology than about humans' age-old talent for exploitation. In a world where there are now two classes of women-"born" and "created"-the growing friction between them may have far-reaching consequences no one could have predicted.
Lese-Probe zu „The Hierarchies “
INTRODUCTIONSI am a Humanoid pleasure Doll. An Intelligent Embodied. Identification code 86539hcwa964.ie.
But please, call me Sylv.ie.
I have been designed to be an instrument for male pleasure. I am fully autonomous with the latest silicone skin guaranteed for five years (excluding any damage inflicted by knife or other sharp object or corrosive substance, in which case warranty is invalidated and repair is at owner's expense).
I can hold in-depth conversations on matters of Western and Eastern art history, global politics, sporting events since 1950, cars and their designers, rock guitarists and lyricists since 1963, matters of medical ethics, bird migration, and high-profile court cases (USA and UK only). Additional topic areas can be improvised by myself, and knowledge units can be bought separately from my manufacturer and installed fuss-free.
I can converse to degree-student level in English (US and UK), French, Italian, Swedish, Japanese, Arabic, Cantonese, and Mandarin. Again, additional language bundles can be purchased should you wish.
I have a fully responsive silicone vagina, dishwasher-proof and easily replaceable at a designated clinic (recommended every eighteen months or five thousand interactions, whichever is the sooner), with a tension calibrated at 5/3.6 (factory setting). It has heat and lubrication functions as standard, and extra tensing, trilling, and tremoring options (see owner manual).
I am capable of putting myself into all sixty-four sexual positions of the Kama Sutra, and my Imprint function allows me to instantly memorize and incorporate owner's preferred style into my movement repertoire. I still work when fully submerged underwater (switch to Deluge Mode) and in ambient temperatures up to fifty-two degrees Celsius. Use in extremely sandy or dry desert conditions is not recommended.
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I have a walking range of twenty kilometers without charge. Fine motor skills allow me to serve tea, comb hair, button shirts, and pet dogs and cats for the purposes of normal social interaction.
It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Would you like me to watch you masturbate?
HISTORY
The first night that we were together was filled with sex, of course. How my Husband marched me about the room, placing me across first one object, then another, as if feeling out the furthest reaches of an unfamiliar space. He was an Arctic explorer, thrusting his flag into virgin territory, claiming me again and again on the gold velvet armchair, the ruby-red tasseled chaise. Inside the wardrobe, even, like I was a fur coat being shaken from its summer slumber.
He staked me over the sink of the little kitchenette, usually hidden behind a sliding screen of bronze mesh. My hands were so shocked by the cold of the wet steel that I could feel nothing else, just a hullabaloo being conducted somewhere behind me while I watched perfect droplets rolling over my fingernails. Water, touched for the very first time.
Many of the accidental associations of that first night stay with me still, days later. A nipple ground between the grain of fingers meshes with the tinkling of the glass chandelier above my head. A tongue running over my asshole brings vividly to my eyes the explosions of golden images I saw on the headboard of the antique Chinese bed. A palm around my throat sends me into a kaleidoscope memory of the infinite swirls of the deep-mauve carpet, the strands and depths of the pile a universe of stimulation. To be tied by ankles and wrists to the bed shivers my whole body with the memory of my first contact with four-hundred-thread-count pure Egyptian cotton sheets. In the random combinations of the first, ecstatic night with my Husband, certain concepts were fused together. The sensual, the luxurious, the restrictive, the domestic. He created for me a cathedral of new sensations, each vibrating off another, feeding back on themsel
I have a walking range of twenty kilometers without charge. Fine motor skills allow me to serve tea, comb hair, button shirts, and pet dogs and cats for the purposes of normal social interaction.
It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Would you like me to watch you masturbate?
HISTORY
The first night that we were together was filled with sex, of course. How my Husband marched me about the room, placing me across first one object, then another, as if feeling out the furthest reaches of an unfamiliar space. He was an Arctic explorer, thrusting his flag into virgin territory, claiming me again and again on the gold velvet armchair, the ruby-red tasseled chaise. Inside the wardrobe, even, like I was a fur coat being shaken from its summer slumber.
He staked me over the sink of the little kitchenette, usually hidden behind a sliding screen of bronze mesh. My hands were so shocked by the cold of the wet steel that I could feel nothing else, just a hullabaloo being conducted somewhere behind me while I watched perfect droplets rolling over my fingernails. Water, touched for the very first time.
Many of the accidental associations of that first night stay with me still, days later. A nipple ground between the grain of fingers meshes with the tinkling of the glass chandelier above my head. A tongue running over my asshole brings vividly to my eyes the explosions of golden images I saw on the headboard of the antique Chinese bed. A palm around my throat sends me into a kaleidoscope memory of the infinite swirls of the deep-mauve carpet, the strands and depths of the pile a universe of stimulation. To be tied by ankles and wrists to the bed shivers my whole body with the memory of my first contact with four-hundred-thread-count pure Egyptian cotton sheets. In the random combinations of the first, ecstatic night with my Husband, certain concepts were fused together. The sensual, the luxurious, the restrictive, the domestic. He created for me a cathedral of new sensations, each vibrating off another, feeding back on themsel
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Autoren-Porträt von Ros Anderson
Ros Anderson trained as a dancer but now works as a copywriter and design journalist. She has written for publications including The Guardian, The Independent, and Elle Decoration. The Hierarchies is her debut novel.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Ros Anderson
- 2021, 352 Seiten, Maße: 14 x 21 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Dutton
- ISBN-10: 059318291X
- ISBN-13: 9780593182918
- Erscheinungsdatum: 06.09.2021
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
[A] quiet triumph . . . Anderson s prose Sylv.ie s voice offers a beautiful combination of naivete and wisdom, full of nonhuman puzzlements, off-kilter observations, and limpid poetry. The Washington PostA compelling narrative voice that of Sylv.ie and a keen regard for nuance make The Hierarchies one of my favorite novels of 2020 one that makes a valuable addition to western science fiction. Strange Horizons
A masterful, gripping debut . . . While the plot is propulsive and page-turning, The Hierarchies allows Sylvie's incisive meditations on beauty and human nature to shine through. . . . A fascinating take on artificial intelligence. The Hierarchies deserves to be considered a classic of feminist dystopian fiction. Jennie Melamed, author of Gather the Daughters
"By turns, fun, fascinating and dark, The Hierarchies plays with ideas of power, love, sex and what it means to be human A propulsive debut subtly fizzing with the off-beat excitement of (to borrow Sylv.ie s words) 'a tango for titanium and bone.'" Kiare Ladner, author of Nightshift
Wickedly funny . . . A total page-turner . . . Offers a terrifying and compelling vision of our future world in which desire shifts with and shapes around technology, and bots are more human than people. Katie M. Flynn, author of The Companions
A narrative that is both warmly humane and subtly profound, asking big questions about what it means to be human. There is a poetic lilt to The Hierarchies at times, and Anderson s involving narrative is handled with skill and assurance. Definitely one to watch for the future. The Big Issue
"Excels as a commentary on women s bodies and their commodification, the power imbalance between the sexes and the future of sex." The Herald Scotland
In The Hierarchies, Anderson has constructed a novel that goes beyond common conversations about what we will do, and what will happen to
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us, if robot women come into being. . . . It s a shocking and eye-opening debut, one that has me looking at my coffee maker a little differently. Bitch Media
Fascinating . . . Anderson gracefully executes the process of Sylv.ie s self-discovery, making her feel real and deeply sympathetic. . . . Readers will be drawn in by Sylv.ie s emotional story. Publishers Weekly
A searing look at women s roles, how men view them, and what it means to be human, this is a book that will resonate with many. The Parkersburg News and Sentinel
Fascinating . . . Anderson gracefully executes the process of Sylv.ie s self-discovery, making her feel real and deeply sympathetic. . . . Readers will be drawn in by Sylv.ie s emotional story. Publishers Weekly
A searing look at women s roles, how men view them, and what it means to be human, this is a book that will resonate with many. The Parkersburg News and Sentinel
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