Literary writers trying their hand science fiction often causes problems. for SF aficionados, it annoys, as often the literary writer is unaware of the tropes of the genre, or that a particular topic may have been extremely well explored in a novel of ideas, that was published in the genre and not recognised in the classical literary world. for the non-SF aficionado reader, the sudden importation of tics and tells of the SF world may also rankle, although this has become much less so in recent years as so many of the "great and good" of the aforesaid classic world of letters have decided to write books which at least tackle the world's recent challenges by first reading a batch of the appropriate science (whether the dismal science of economics, to write about the crash of 2008, or the warm science of anthropology, to write about gender in alternative histories of the future (you know who I'm talking about, right? not Ursula Le Guin:), or else the science of computers, to create stories about the impact of apparently intelligent machines on robots - oops, sorry, got that the wrong way round - we humans aren't apparently intelligent machines, that's the robots, that is :-)
Hence to Ian McEwan's latest, Machines Like Me, an everyday tale of rape, suicide, and possibly, murder. Fairly everyday stuff from this author you might think....however, in this case, he's decided to write a book set in an alternative present, with an alternative recent past, which, crucially, allows him the luxury of having Alan Turing as a living character who has pursued many of the directions hinted at in his work, so that lifelike robots are now (almost) an every day, if somewhat expensive reality in the world. McEwan acknowledges Hodges fabulous biography of Turing as a source for background, rightly, as the character is pretty much what you'd get from that work, or else from the play, Breaking the Code (though less so from the film, Imitation Game). Turing is also supported by a cadre of interesting loosely fictionalised people, to render the progress on AI tech more plausible - most notably, the real-life Demis Hassabis (DeepMind, also acknowledged as a source at the end of the book) is relocated about 25 years earlier in time than his real self, to help Turing create the more important foreground character of (would you believe it, as the Cockney's have it, would you Adam and Eve) Adam, an apparently functional synthetic human (don't get me started on why McEwan seems unaware of the fabulous exploration of this topic in the wonderful Swedish, then Brit TV series, Humans). The key "real" humans in this fictional work are Charlie, a mid-30s man of somewhat relative moral virtue, and his friend, Miranda, a student of very dull eras of history. I assume she's called Miranda as a sly reference to Shakespeare's character from the Tempest, who uttered the words "Oh Brave New World, that has such people in it", on first seeing men. And of course, the source of the title of Aldous Huxley's classic literary SF dystopic vision.
Here, much of the dystopic vision is of the political/economic kind, and is set in a kind of mash up between 1970s/1980s Britain, with a few (c.f. Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick's alt.history) with some amusing takes on Thatcher, if we'd (spoiler alert)... or what if Tony Benn..... or what about that IRA bomb in Brighton... oh, ok , I won't spoil those bits, as they make up some of the novel's interesting bits, in the sense that, for this reader at least, they created a very interesting alternative exploration of why the UK is where it is today, 3 years after the Brexit referendum.
As for the foreground tale of two humans and a machine like them, I thought that Charlie and Miranda were underwritten, and Adam was overwritten. i thought that the exploration of ideas like "what is consciousness" was about ok, but did not bring anything new to the table - the tension between Phenomenology and the Turing test (for what it is worth) for intelligence, and notions of EQ, was covered far more effectively 5 decades ago in "Do Androids Dream" by the aforesaid Philip K DIck (who had actually studied philosophy and could write character and plot). I wanted to know more about Miranda's cranky dad (another non spoiler - there's a funny reflection on dementia and human mis-judgement that involves him and Charlie and Adam).
The ending did not bring a sense of an ending for me, rather left various plot-line, moral questions, and unknown unknowns, still unknown.
Still, McEwan sure can write, so I'd recommend this book as a decent read, though below his best. He really should get out more, and so should I.
Hence to Ian McEwan's latest, Machines Like Me, an everyday tale of rape, suicide, and possibly, murder. Fairly everyday stuff from this author you might think....however, in this case, he's decided to write a book set in an alternative present, with an alternative recent past, which, crucially, allows him the luxury of having Alan Turing as a living character who has pursued many of the directions hinted at in his work, so that lifelike robots are now (almost) an every day, if somewhat expensive reality in the world. McEwan acknowledges Hodges fabulous biography of Turing as a source for background, rightly, as the character is pretty much what you'd get from that work, or else from the play, Breaking the Code (though less so from the film, Imitation Game). Turing is also supported by a cadre of interesting loosely fictionalised people, to render the progress on AI tech more plausible - most notably, the real-life Demis Hassabis (DeepMind, also acknowledged as a source at the end of the book) is relocated about 25 years earlier in time than his real self, to help Turing create the more important foreground character of (would you believe it, as the Cockney's have it, would you Adam and Eve) Adam, an apparently functional synthetic human (don't get me started on why McEwan seems unaware of the fabulous exploration of this topic in the wonderful Swedish, then Brit TV series, Humans). The key "real" humans in this fictional work are Charlie, a mid-30s man of somewhat relative moral virtue, and his friend, Miranda, a student of very dull eras of history. I assume she's called Miranda as a sly reference to Shakespeare's character from the Tempest, who uttered the words "Oh Brave New World, that has such people in it", on first seeing men. And of course, the source of the title of Aldous Huxley's classic literary SF dystopic vision.
Here, much of the dystopic vision is of the political/economic kind, and is set in a kind of mash up between 1970s/1980s Britain, with a few (c.f. Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick's alt.history) with some amusing takes on Thatcher, if we'd (spoiler alert)... or what if Tony Benn..... or what about that IRA bomb in Brighton... oh, ok , I won't spoil those bits, as they make up some of the novel's interesting bits, in the sense that, for this reader at least, they created a very interesting alternative exploration of why the UK is where it is today, 3 years after the Brexit referendum.
As for the foreground tale of two humans and a machine like them, I thought that Charlie and Miranda were underwritten, and Adam was overwritten. i thought that the exploration of ideas like "what is consciousness" was about ok, but did not bring anything new to the table - the tension between Phenomenology and the Turing test (for what it is worth) for intelligence, and notions of EQ, was covered far more effectively 5 decades ago in "Do Androids Dream" by the aforesaid Philip K DIck (who had actually studied philosophy and could write character and plot). I wanted to know more about Miranda's cranky dad (another non spoiler - there's a funny reflection on dementia and human mis-judgement that involves him and Charlie and Adam).
The ending did not bring a sense of an ending for me, rather left various plot-line, moral questions, and unknown unknowns, still unknown.
Still, McEwan sure can write, so I'd recommend this book as a decent read, though below his best. He really should get out more, and so should I.
