Okay, so recently I finally read Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, the book that was the basis for one of my all-time favorite films, Blade Runner. I'll be perfectly blunt up front: I prefer the movie. I expected more from the book than what I got.
One of the problems is that nearly all the characters in the novel seem shallower than in the film, especially the principals - Deckard, Rachael and Batty. These three, as played onscreen by Ford, Young and Hauer, were a vital reason why the movie impacted me the way it did. But in the book, they are all annoying and it never lets up. Rachael is a bitch of an android right to the end; Batty is a feeble, ineffectual leader of his group; and Deckard finds them all and retires them far too easily. There is no drama to the whole search-and-destroy mission. I get what Dick is saying: that Deckard is able to track down androids with relative ease because they all have a basic inability to pass off as human beings no matter how good they think they are. I get that Dick did not intend for the reader to sympathize with them (Luba Luft being a possible exception). Yes, the point of Dick's "andys" is that they are "cold, cruel and heartless."
But that puts me back at square one: these are shallow characters that leave me indifferent as a reader. I guess I simply find Ridley Scott's "more human than human" replicants more fascinating than Dick's sub-human androids. Scott's replicants show a kind of fight in them - the will to preserve themselves in the face of insurmountable odds - that is absent from Dick's andys. However, I'll concede this does make Blade Runner's replicants a bit more problematic due to their complex natures, in contrast to the book's more straightforward androids. Having this inner will to fight for their lives suggests, at least to me, that they have some intangible thing: a "soul" if you will, that Dick's andys lack. It brings up the question: can an artificial construct really have a soul?
Luba Luft is maybe the most sympathetic android. I'm somewhat confused by the timeline of events, though: I had thought she and the other andys in the story were recent arrivals on Earth, but the description of Luft's time there seems to imply she's been on terrestrial soil for a lengthy period - long enough to build a career as an opera singer. At any rate, even though Luba evokes sympathy, Dick emphasizes that the andys still murdered human beings in order to get to Earth to make a better life for themselves. Although Scott's replicants are more glamorous than Dick's andys, Scott doesn't gloss over their ruthlessness either: recall that within ten minutes of the film, Leon guns down Detective Holden. They're handsome specimens, but they easily turn killer on a dime.
J.R. Isidore is maybe the most layered and sympathetic figure in the whole book, given how much we peer into his thoughts compared to the rest of the characters (Deckard included). His misplaced friendship with the rogue androids who take refuge in his apartment building makes me pity him, as I pitied J.F. Sebastian in the movie. Isidore's visions of the "tomb world" are riveting. This is where Dick's prose really soars; it's as if Isidore is tapping into some cosmic reality greater than himself.
On the other hand, I seriously cannot stand Rachael as she is in the book. Why did she kill Deckard's goat at the end? To gloat at Deckard's impotence - i.e. his unwillingness to "retire" her when he had the chance?
And Roy Batty? His unremarkable, mundane execution by Deckard is quite anti-climactic compared to the epic confrontation between the two in the film.
The empathy box and "Mercerism" are things I don't miss in the movie. Mercerism in particular would have possibly confused the film too much (though I concede that BR's script has enough confusing/contradictory elements on its own).
The "Buster Friendly" show in the book seems very quaint to me. The notion that one channel, one program could so dominate the airwaves on Earth and the off-world colonies is more far-fetched to me than the idea of sentient androids. I realize the book was written before the age of the 500-channel universe, but I still find the scenario a little ludicrous. As for Buster Friendly himself, I assume he's a Big Brother figure - whether a benevolent or sinister kind seems to be left to the reader to decide.
Deckard's obsession with acquiring a real animal to replace his defective electric sheep provides some entertaining humor in the book. Its inclusion in Blade Runner might have endeared it more to audiences. But BR works fine for me without that element. I'm just glad the film didn't end up as a complete comedy, as was the case in the very first Hollywood treatment of the novel.
As for Deckard's strange "merge" with Mercer towards the end of the book, I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm reminded of the merging of POV's of the separate versions of Dave Bowman in the final act of 2001: A Space Odyssey. It would have made for a much more fanciful, mystical kind of movie - quite different from the realistically grounded one Scott was making.
Same with Mercer's sudden appearance to Deckard in Isidore's apartment complex. I guess it was meant to resolve Deckard's conflicting attitude towards Mercerism, but I'm glad it was not in Blade Runner. I think it could have easily been an awful, cheesy B-movie moment. Not that I'm saying a skilled filmmaker like Ridley Scott couldn't have done something with it. But on the written page, you can more easily get away with things like that.
The novel's resolution with Deckard returning to his wife is another thing that leaves me indifferent. It is emotionally vacuous compared to the movie's poignant coda with Deckard and Rachael fleeing toward who knows what future they have together. This doesn't mean I'm cheering on infidelity: in the movie, Deckard's marriage was dead when the story began, so it wasn't as if he had a wife to return to. And since we never saw her in the film, there's nothing to attach our sympathy to. (Without the voice-over, we wouldn't even know Deckard had been married.)
Whatever my problems with the story, I have to say PKD's prose is cogent through it all. This is a very readable book. Despite the futuristic gadgetry and philosophical musings, Dick's writing remains relatively jargon-free. In the end, I have to give my nod to Dick's original novel, for without it there would be no Blade Runner. But for me, it is Ridley Scott's cinematic vision that brings Dick's story and world to vivid life.
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