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Tea-drinking introvert found either behind a book or within arm's reach of one. Book reviewer, and book sniffer. You may have seen me on W24, BooksLive, Aerodrome, Bark Magazine, CultNoise Magazine, or Expound Magazine.

27 May 2019

Review: Machines like Me by Ian McEwan


For the first time, Charlie Friend has come into some money. Not for the first time, he’s about to get rid of it. £86000 later, he is the proud owner of Adam, one of 25 AI humanoids produced globally. While he would have preferred an Eve, the female counterpart to his purchase, he remains enthralled by Adam. Charlie plans to personalise Adam’s clean slate of a personality together with his neighbor, Miranda. In so doing, he hopes to be drawn closer to her through this, their ‘creation’.  

As can be expected, Adam’s interpretation of the world is rapid, clean cut, and impressive. He takes to any task seamlessly, and is a constant reminder of the lightning speed that is technological evolution. Through his eyes, we learn anew what it means to discover, to love, and to grieve. As the trio falls into the rhythms of a new, shared life, we can only wonder at who is truly synthetic, and within whom true humanity resides.

There are many things to like about this novel, including an exhilarating look at an alternate 1980s England in which Margaret Thatcher is still the Iron Lady, and Alan Turing is alive and as mathematically brilliant as ever. These are, however, slightly dimmed by the presence of literary irritants, such as the long soliloquies about politics and personal frustrations at the hands of a somewhat boring narrator with a penchant for deluded narcissism. All the more annoying is that one can’t help feel that Charlie was designed to be disliked; a clever tool in a brilliant creation with a brilliant and mesmerizing overall effect. Charlie’s droning serves as a stark contrast to the enigma that is Adam, sneakily hoisting upon the latter the feelings we usually lovingly heap upon human narrators.

There is something fascinating and illuminating in questioning humanity, and the boundaries between real and unreal that makes a book like this an instant classic. Paired with Ian McEwan’s ability to get under the reader’s skin and cleverly guide our thoughts and emotions, Machines like Me is a delightful contribution to the existent body of related works. What sets this novel above its peers, however, is its unexpected ending, and its vastly imaginative world rooted in stark black and white.

Machines like Me is published by Jonathan Cape, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

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