Seeing double

Have you ever thought about what your life might be like had you made one consequential decision? That's the underlying premise of Isabel J. Kim's debut novel, Sublimation (expanded from her 2021 short story "Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation of the Self"): how do the choices that we make inform who we are, and if we know the impact of those choices, will we still make them?

The novel is set in a world much like ours, but with one wild difference: if you cross a border and don't intend to return home, you duplicate. One of you stays behind, and your copy – called an "instance" – continues forward. They have identical bodies and memories up to that moment, and diverge from there. If one's instance returns, they'll reintegrate into the same body if they make contact, the memories of two lives blending together.

Spoilers ahead for the novel.

Kim has established a thought-provoking concept, one shepherded along by a young South Korean woman named Soyoung and her instance, Rose. They instanced at the age of 10, when their mother left for the United States, and haven't spoken to one another in two decades. When their grandfather passes away, Rose is compelled to return – he left her his house and expressed his wishes that the two would reintegrate. With her own life and career in the United States, Rose isn't interested in reintegrating and finds her reunion with Soyoung to be less than ideal. She'd rather not think about the counterpart she left behind, and doesn't really know how to speak with her. They might look alike, but they have little in common. Soyoung, for her part, is curious about Rose and carries some resentment for the life that she hasn't experienced.

Soyoung was also friends with a boy, Yujin, who eventually also moved to the United States and he and his instance (YJ) keep in touch regularly as the two worked to optimize their chances in life: getting dual US citizenship while working in the tech industry before eventually reintegrating, equipped with the skills and tools to succeed in the world, and maybe avoid military service in Korea.

Shortly after arriving, Soyoung makes a rash decision: she grabs Rose's wrist and the pair integrate, their minds and shared experiences intertwining. The new Soyoung-Rose quickly realizes that they'd made a mistake: reintegrating isn't what either of them really wanted or needed, and she jumps at a slim chance of undoing the action: she now knows about Yujin and YJ's lives, particularly the latter's work at a slick tech company called Mergebreak.

The company has come up with a useful innovation for the world: a bracelet that interrupts the reintegration process. It's a gamechanger for the world, allowing instances to freely travel back and forth to their homeland without the risk of accidentally reintegrating with their duplicate. The company has ambitions beyond that technology: they've acquired a company that developed a new form of technology: one that allows them to undo a reintegrated person, and it's a lifeline that Soyoung-Rose desperately clings to after learning about it.

This is an ambitious technothriller that manages the delicate balancing act of being breezy and thoughtful at the same time. Kim juggles a number of heavy topics that deftly weaving them together in a narrative that zips along without getting overly bogged down in the scenery or technological window dressing.

At the core of the novel is the idea of how expectations weigh on a person, particularly those who leave their homes and families for the better opportunities. There's a wide array of complications in the foreground here: There's Soyung and her mother in Korea and their somewhat estranged counterparts in the United States, who have to contend with what almost feels like betrayal at the departure and reluctance to look back at where they came from. Then there's Yujin and YJ – they're in regular touch with one another, coordinating their lives for what they hope will be a successful future. But while they're largely on the same page, they're each struggling with which future they really want for themselves: who are they living for, and as they've lived their own lives apart, how do they prioritize one over the other – and even if they want to reintegrate when all is said and done?

In and of itself, that's more than enough drama for a novel, but Kim has more to talk about: Mergebreak's technology represents a profound inflection point for the world. They've figured out how to prevent people from reintegrating with their bracelet, but with their new technology, Soyoung-Rose and YJ are alarmed at the implications that it represents. Deployed at airports or border crossings, the technology (and company) would be able to control migration and even forcibly reinstance people if they want to cross borders.

It's a notable point to examine, especially in a world in which we're surrounded by technology that can often shape our social lives and society in unexpected and unseen ways. Should governments – or enormous tech companies – be trusted with deploying and utilizing these technologies? As we watch the rapid deployment of artificial intelligence systems and social and advertising media platforms buffer the nature of our political systems to the entertainment we consume and everything in between.

The result is an engrossing read that explores these relationships and thinks deeply about the world that surrounds us. Sublimation works so spectacularly well because Kim understands that these disparate elements are actually related and interact with one another. She digs deep into the humanities of her world with examples from the mythology and storytelling that's arisen around instancing and how it's shaped its culture, while also looking at how the tech media in the world talks about these technologies that surround them.

The introduction of any new technology will trickle down to shape how people live in unexpected ways, and the way people live and see the world will shape how they utilize the tools and policies at their disposal. It's a story that both skewers the tendencies and attitudes of Silicon Valley, while also recognizing its importance in the modern world. It's a demonstration that the humanities and sciences aren't diametrically opposed to one another: they're both essential, even if they sometimes have a strained relationship and expectations between one another.