Canadian born Geoff Ryman is one of the most innovative and acclaimed authors writing in Fantasy and SF. A multi-award winner, his sensitive and artful SF novels, including WAS, AIR and THE CHILD GARDEN, have explored the AIDS epidemic, the coming of the Cloud based internet and the history of Cambodia. His 1998 novel, 253, was a groundbreaking digital hypertext. As well as writing novels he led the teams that built the websites for the British Monarchy and Number 10.

Him by Geoff Ryman

An extraordinary science-fiction novel about identity, divinity and alternate reality – the story of the son of God.

"Women, of course, can not be sons of God,"

In the village of Nazareth, virgin Maryam and the wife of Yosef barLevi gives birth to a miracle: a little girl. She is named Avigayil, after her grandmother.

But as Avigayil grows, it's clear she believes that she is destined to be someone greater than just the daughter of Maryam. From leading a gang of village boys to challenging the priests in the temple, Avigayil is determined to find her way as Yeshu, a man.

Yeshu can work miracles. He can see futures. He can speak for God.

A gripping, thoughtful sci-fi novel, tackling family, the multiverse and the survival of love through immense change and crisis.

CURATOR'S NOTE

Ryman's one of the greats, and his new novel in years – and a current nominee for the BSFA Award – is a treat! – Lavie Tidhar

 

REVIEWS

  • "HIM feels like the real story at last. Ryman's uncanny ability to get inside people makes this one of the greatest versions of the old story. The family drama, Yeshua's parents and siblings—all the key moments seen as if by lightening—it comes alive in a supremely vivid way. This time for real. It's unforgettable."

    – Kim Stanley Robinson, award winning author of The Mars Trilogy

  • "Ryman does an impressive job portraying his protagonist's arduous and complicated existence. Readers willing to have their preconceptions challenged will find much to savor and ponder in this unique work."

    – Publishers Weekly

  • "Here is the Son of God you never knew. HIM is shocking, moving, profound and reverent. Only Geoff Ryman could have written this book. It is a masterpiece."

    – Michael Swanwick, Nebula award-winning author of Stations of the Tide
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

MOTHER

Maryam laboured up the Mount of Olives, wondering how this morning could be so like any other.

From over the walls that lined the road came the sound of mothers calling and children squealing. A gateway groaned open and a woman in an apron threw dirty water onto the street. The servant apologized and was startled when Maryam snarled, "Pour blood on me!"

A human beast of burden struggled down the hill, holding back a cart full of firewood. A sweat-stained rag was wrapped around his head; his face was creased down the middle of his cheeks. His eyes caught hers as he passed: you think I endure? Despair in those grey eyes, as if he knew who she was and what had happened. Despair that his own life would only be work, pain, and early death.

Over the flat roofs, the Temple rose like a snowy mountain in sunset, marble and gold. Looking so proud –but it couldn't stop the Romans. What it had was beauty, and what use was beauty? What use was any of it?

The gate to the house hung open so she slipped in sideways. Their host was waiting in the shade and jumped forward as soon as he saw her.

"What has happened, what has happened?" he demanded.

Maryam felt like a seed popped from an apple, tiny and hard. "Where's the babe?"

The old uncle said, "I didn't wake her. What's going to happen?"

Maryam looked at his anxious, kindly face and found that all of her sympathy had been burned through. "They're going to kill him," she said, and went round the side of the house to mount the steps to the upper floor.

The child Rutit was not asleep but lazed under a blanket, singing to herself. Maryam leant over her and kissed her and said, "Come, Baby, we're going back to be with your mother."

Maryam took the child's blanket, found her tiny sandals, and bundled her up. The uncle was leaning against the doorpost. "What's this?"

"Don't make me say it," she said.

The host was outraged. "They can't be that stupid. What did the Kohen Gadol do? He's supposed to defend us. Will they stone him?"

Maryam couldn't remember the fancy Greek word. "Some horrible Roman thing."

She pushed past him, but the household had lined the steps and crowded the courtyard. She would have to squeeze past them on the open staircase near the edge. They shouted questions. You left him alone, cowards, why should you know anything?