I get it: it's just not my type of hype.
Jody Scott is an interesting author. She co-wrote a novel back in the 1950s, put out a few short pieces of science fiction (and wrote at least one book that was never published) mostly in the 1960s. Then, in the early 1980s, put out two science fiction(ish) novels that have since become cult classics, but are mostly ignored. "I, Vampire" is the second of these--I still haven't read the first--a loose sequel to her "Passing for Human." Nothing more after that, whether she couldn't find a publisher or just became distracted by other things, I don't know.
As the titles of both books would indicate, this one and probably the other) is very concerned with identity, its fluidity and way the way that it is nonetheless categorized. The main character of the book is Sterling O'Blivion, a 13th century vampire living in modern-day Chicago, where she sells dopes on the wonders of dance classes, really just ripping them off. She thinks that she has seen it all and understands the human condition to its very marrow, and longs for something else.
The first part of the book is clearly a vampire novel, with Scott explaining how vampirism works in her world (a kind of mutation that forces its bearer to consume 6 measly ounces of blood per month in order to effectively live forever.) There are rye comments on how humans hate her, though she hardly takes much, and they are certainly going to die and lose their blood in the end.
Hints, though, are thrown down early that vampirism is the least of the book's innovations--Scott has no time for John W. Campbell's assertion that the science fiction author is allowed only one major assumption, one major premise, and everything else must follow from that. Sterling mentions in passing, several times, that she created a time machine. And having witnessed humanity in its manifest form for centuries she wishes for something more--in particular, for some alien to come and save her.
Which is exactly what happens when Benaroya appears--Benaroya, the hero fo the first book, Benaroya a whale-like alien from a distant water world, who has taken the form of many humans over time, to blend in, and now looks like Virginia Woolf--whom it just so happens Sterling fell in love with, back in the 1920s.
Implausibility piles on implausibility and the novel is short, but it never feels overstuffed, or even forced, which is part of Scott's magic. I suppose she might owe something to the New Wave science fictionists of the 1960s, but I know to little about that movement to see. (She does namecheck Barry Malzberg.) What I see here more is a someone influenced by William Burroughs of "Naked Lunch" (and Burroughs gives a praising squib to this edition) and so it's possible to slot Scott into the genealogy of Cyber Punk, even as the the use of technology here is rudimentary; the concern in both is the limits of the human qua human. The main reason that the book remains cohesive, despite its plausibilities, is that Scott is a writer of labile imagination, able to piece these various ideas together into a whole that feels right--like Burroughs or even early William Gibson. Her writing, though, always feels more personable than either of those, almost breezy at times. Still, the book has its social issues--Sterling O'Blivion obviously indicates the inadequacies of materialism, and there are also issues of identity and sexuality which are considered.
As the story develops--spoilers for this thirty-year-old novel--it comes out that O'Blivion has some serious personal issues with which to deal--the death of her husband--even as she and the new Virginia Woolf are creating a cult. The cultish ideas are basic, rewashed New Thought: each person creates his or her own reality with their thought, could be happy if only they wanted to be, and in time could develop their psychic powers to such an extent that they could literally create reality just by thinking about it. But all that is covered with the selling of what they call the Famous Men's Sperm Kit--allowing women to choose from a colleciton of famous men to be fathers to their children.
The species of alien to which Woolf belongs, though, is in conflict with another alien species--also running commercials advertising itself--that want humans to remain in their primordial state. These aliens kidnap some of the cult members--and the story, short though it is, spirals, switching points of view from Sterling to Virginia, to cult members, to other aliens of Virginia's species. Indeed, Sterling is off stage for long stretches, including when she loses her husband and kills a couple of people.
There is war, which upsets Sterling: she had expected better from Virginia and her species, but Virginia reminds her it is just a game, and only a few people were ever meant to evolve, anyway. The weapons involved in the war are some kind of ray that forces the disguised aliens to remain in human form, and bombs to kill them. In a fit of rage, Sterling shoots Woolf, forcing her into her human body: which is anger, but also love, for the two--much to the chagrin of conventional society, have begun a lesbian affair.
All the trauma forces O'Blivion into a fugue state, in which she imagines the people of her life rearranged into different, normal roles. But Woolf frees her from that conventional hell, and they escape, with other aliens, back to Egypt, where they will built the pyramids and practice the mental techniques that Woolf wants O'blivion--and the entire human race--to learn. Easier to teach them from the start, to redo history so that the lost wisdom of the ancients is never lost in the first place.
The middle sections, not unlike Naked Lunch, get very confused and increasingly hallucinatory. The end is affecting. As a whole, I understand why people praise this book and think Scott unjustly ignored--she is. But like the Malzberg book I read earlier this year, it just doesn't affect me. Maybe it's the style, maybe it just seems dated. I don't know. But it certainly has an open, limber approach to the genre