Friday (1982)

Robert A. Heinlein

Del Rey, New York; ISBN: 0-345-30988-X; Pages: 357

One of the last RAH novels, ``Friday'' is in some ways reminiscent of the younger action-packed Heinlein from his juveniles. Obviously the subject matter of this novel is anything but; in fact, the lecherous element reaches scandalous levels even for me... and I am not a prude (if you really need to know, I did not like Friday marrying the man who raped her). Overall, a delicious piece of work, full of interesting conjectures about the future and quite busy destroying the last vestiges of religious morality in the reader.

Friday is a genetically engineered woman, a ``living artifact,'' whose origins are not entirely acceptable to the normal humans. The world she lives in is a rather strange place, where the nation-states have balkanized into small sovereign nations with political regimes running the gamut from extreme democracy to despotism and even theocracy. The petty squabbles of these nationals are dwarfed by the intrigue between the multinational corporate states. In a nightmarish vision, RAH describes the impersonal but almost omnipotent presence of the large corporations that control almost every aspect of everyday life. On of them in particular, Shipstone, seems to be a humongous conglomerate with involvements everywhere, from Sears, to Coca-Cola, to communications, and travel. It is a world where a company owned by Shipstone can nuke Acapulco into oblivion to induce the Mexican government to accept its offer. It then pays indemnities and continues its merry existence. It is a world where palace intrigue at the top levels of the various interlocking directorates can result in a world-wide (Earth, Luna, and the colonies) Red Thursday of purges, killings, and terrorism to an extent that nearly shuts down the operations of the normal governments. Not a happy place. People are rude too.

Enter Friday, an elite courier for a clandestine organization. After a promising opening (she gets kidnapped, raped, tortured, and freed) she sets on a vacation that turns into a quest to find her place of belonging. And it does not end until she settles on Botany Bay, one of the colonies. Although she is a wife in an S-family (that is, a family that has several wives and husbands), she gets kicked out of it when her racist family discovers that she is a genetically engineered human. Friday then hooks up with Ian, Janet, and Georges, and happy threesome living the sybaritic life, and falls head over heels for Janet. The bliss ends abruptly with the eruption of Red Thursday. Friday and Georges flee to California (a parody of democracy) after Friday kills a police officer for pointing a gun at Jan. RAH is really amusing when describing the folly of a democracy gone wild with equality. The two then go to Texas where they part and Friday goes back to the Chicago Imperium only to find that her Boss has vanished. After many trials she finally finds him (or rather, they find her) and she is curiously ordered to go back to studying. Then her boss dies and she finds a new job as a courier; her mission to deliver the heir to the First Citizen of The Realm... in her womb. Upon realization that this mission would be her last, she jumps ship at Botany Bay and settles there with her entire extended family, which includes (deus ex machina) Ian, Janet, Georges, and (not much surprise), another AP, Matilda, and (revulsion) her rapist Mac-Pete-Percival, whom she marries.

Strong points. One must not forget that this was written back in the times when a personal computer meant four people tugging along a chunk of metal and when the Internet was DOD-only. It is fascinating to see how accurate RAH was in predicting the ubiquitous sprawling of the net and the services, convenience, and little annoyances it offers.

There is an interesting discussion of the signs of a decaying civilization, where RAH asserts that bad manners are the surest indicators of disintegration. He is right. The other one is bad public toilets. Mr. Baldwin's letter (p.251-3) has also an interesting quip about religion, which must reflect RAH's own view on that matter. We also have the unselfish Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, who help Friday when she crosses the Mississippi after her ship gets blown up (commemorated in the Asa Hunter Fund at the end of the book); given RAH's sentiments, these two are exemplars of all good and decent in a human being.

Quibbles. Although Friday has been selectively engineered with superb physical and mental abilities, she is quite vulnerable in her ``unhumanness'', which can be quite annoying at times. RAH may have overplayed this a bit, especially the time where she breaks down in front of Georges and begs him to let her repay him for his help. It was revolting, turned my stomach, and did not fit her character. Too wimpish, too self-deprecatory. Not Friday. Other than that, the repeated insistence on mentioning Friday's sexual appetite may classify this work for the Playboy Book Club, but was somewhat preachy. All right already, we get the point. She swings both ways, big deal. I guess after Stranger everything would seem mild, even the S-family.

September 20, 2000. BLS