Modern Day Pygmalion
The creator's media has turned from marble to Mac books, but the story stays the same.
In the race to generalized artificial intelligence, a narrative has been reborn in the 21st century. We are beginning to see the effects of a generalized AI take hold throughout society and the effects are widespread — from economic and labor impacts, to political response, to media coverage. However, even before the days of interacting face-to-screen with a general AI, the idea of falling in love with an inanimate, life-like object existed. Harkening back to the days of the Greeks, Ovid’s story of Pygmalion recounts the tale of a sculptor who fell in love with his artwork. In that version, the goddess Venus was so moved by an artists’ love of his work that she brought the marble statue to life for him.
Now, instead of a statue, we see the narrative of not necessarily an artist, but a creator (usually a man) falling in love (if you can call it that) with a robot (or some kind of artificial intelligence). Examples include Her, Pixel Perfect (a DCOM, tbt), Westworld, and even an episode of Silicon Valley (Artificial Emotional Intelligence). Why is it that this idea of a man falling for the “ideal,” inanimate woman has persevered through millennia of storytelling? Perhaps because it has always — and continues to — ring true. Countless women, I’m sure, have stories themselves, from the statue’s perspective. Of how men, before they knew them as a person, idealized them into oblivion, only to have the “relationship” turn sour once the men saw the humanity within, from their perspective, a marble facade.
![Poster for Disney Channel's Pixel Perfect starring Raviv Ullman and Spencer Redford. Poster for Disney Channel's Pixel Perfect starring Raviv Ullman and Spencer Redford.](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0a7adab9-f675-4631-b80b-4b632a7f8502_1440x1080.jpeg)
This narrative has been told outside of the Uncanny Valley, and has spawned a neat little phrase to describe women portrayed in media who serve solely to advance the plot and the male protagonist’s own development, without any of their own depth: manic pixie dream girls.
I believe the underlying desire to exert power over women and relationships with them is a driving force behind this narrative. These are the type of men to talk more than they listen, see what they want to see, and never ask questions. It’s easier for them to fall in love with a reflection of themselves and their desires, sculpted to perfection, than it is to see a real-life person in front of them, who may challenge, disagree with, annoy, be disappointed by, or disappoint them.
I would like to specifically examine the story of Pygmalion. In it, the sculptor did not create this statue out of the blue as a tribute to the feminine form. But rather, was “inspired” to create this statue after witnessing, what he viewed, as debaucherous nature of prostitutes, “detesting the faults beyond measure which nature has given to women.” He then became the original incel, dedicating himself to celibacy and his work. Of course, Aphrodite cannot bring to life every anime waifu pillow. Regardless, I think it is interesting that even in Pygmalion’s detestation of human women, they are not given agency in their actions, but rather nature is the deity from which women are passively affected by.
I think there is more to say here (and people smarter than me have) but I do think it’s fascinating that we see this story told over and over again always with the same gender dynamic. I would be curious to see what a gender-swapped Pygmalion story would be (if this exists would love to read/watch/consume/analyze!). Of course, there is a difference between a man desiring a woman to placidly listen to him come to terms with his own emotions and a woman wanting her partner to engage in an even-sided conversation with her.
What does the technological aspect add to this narrative? Obviously, it adds another layer, obfuscating the true, inanimate nature of the algorithms behind the feminine voice. These modern day Galatea’s can walk, talk, and seem human — but are they closer to humanity than the original marble statue?
And what happens if we ever cross that innovation event horizon into replicating true consciousness — would these stories still persist if the creators can no longer idealize their creation? (Westworld says no, and the creations will in turn go on a murderous rampage).
What does make a story so indelible on humankind’s collective consciousness that it can be told and retold even after technology has advanced so much that, to the story’s original orator, I would think it would be indistinguishable from magic?