Genesis, by Bernard Beckett [book review]
Jan. 30th, 2011 11:31 amThis weekend, I read Genesis by Bernard Beckett. It was at the library and it caught my eye with its subtitle, "What does it mean to be human?" so I picked it up on a whim. It's a YA novel of 145 pages, and I sped through it in about three hours.
TL;DR version:
If you're looking for a detailed exposition of the state-of-the-art in thinking about manufactured conscious entities, and a way to explain it to a bright, nerdy 13-year-old, Genesis is the perfect book for that task. The setting is in a society of the far future; crime and disease and all the rest have been conquered, we are told, after the fall of The Last Republic. There are very few intellectuals, however, and those that exist are encouraged to try for entrance into The Academy, where the very best are said to work toward the well-being of all.
In a fairly standard story-within-a-story plot, the heroine, Anaximander, goes before a review board for entrance into The Academy, and her duty is to explain why her chosen subject was history, and specifically the history of two beings: Adam, a rebellious youth from the time before the current society, and Art, one of the very first AIs. So we read Anaximander's story while she tells us Adam's story. The structure is fairly hackneyed, although I suppose for a YA novel it will be new to its target audience and so maybe that works.
The dialogue between Art and Adam is the core of the book, with its premises about whether or not consciousness is a quality only meat can possess, and whether or not Art, who seems fully conscious in every dialogue, is in fact a philosophical zombie, or if there's more to Art than just yes/no circuitry.
To say I have mixed feelings about this book is to understate my problem with a review. The book is tightly plotted; there's not a wasted word on any page and it hums along quite well. On the other hand, it's poorly opened, with an initial conflict that, quite frankly, didn't grab me until well into the book. By outlaying in the opening chapter that this would be a story-within-a-story plot, we have to wait not only until the inner story gets moving, 20 pages in, but until Adam commits his crimes and gets sentenced be Art's "tutor" in the ways of humanity, which is about 70 pages in. That's a lot of row to hoe.
The story is also downright humorless: there's one laugh in the entire book. In many ways, that might well be a warning about the Rod Serling ending, although fans of Rod Serling will see that ending coming from about the halfway point. I certainly did, and was disappointed when Beckett rode to his inevitable conclusion.
The book also suffers from several authorial conceits. First, in order play up the Socratic dialogue of Anaximander and the review panel, many of the side-characters in The Last Republic are named after Greek philosophers: Plato, Aristotle, etc. The inner hero is named Adam Forde, and I'm confident that Beckett chose "Forde" as a nod to "Our Ford" from Huxley's Brave New World. This constant use of unrealistic names continuously pulled me out of the book. It was a struggle to stay.
Second, the author withholds from the reader knowledge the main character has from the very first page, in order to create a "jaw-dropping" moment at the end of the book. Unfortunately, experienced readers will be anticipating this alternative ending more or less the moment its introduced, about halfway through the book.
Finally, the author asks us to believe that Anaximander, this relentlessly curious, radiantly intellectual character, who has spent the last three years studying to enter The Academy, would somehow have missed completely one critical, obvious detail about The Academy. That completely blew my suspension of disbelief, and ruined the SensaWunda moment for me. I was only three pages from the ending, so I trudged toward it, knowing what was coming.
A lot of the other reviews I read of Genesis are gushing in their praise. But for someone who's been reading Vinge, Stross, Egan, Rucker, Stephenson, even early Hogan, this book was only an interesting refresher course. It accomplishes what the author set out to accomplish: it has a voice, an opinion, and a story to tell.
TL;DR version:
Genesis is a tightly-plotted YA novel that explores whether or not a sufficiently subtle machine can be said to "think" as humans understand thinking. Its main characters are likeable and you'll enjoy your time with them. The book suffers from several authorial conceits, however, that weaken its overall impact. ★★★☆☆
If you're looking for a detailed exposition of the state-of-the-art in thinking about manufactured conscious entities, and a way to explain it to a bright, nerdy 13-year-old, Genesis is the perfect book for that task. The setting is in a society of the far future; crime and disease and all the rest have been conquered, we are told, after the fall of The Last Republic. There are very few intellectuals, however, and those that exist are encouraged to try for entrance into The Academy, where the very best are said to work toward the well-being of all.
In a fairly standard story-within-a-story plot, the heroine, Anaximander, goes before a review board for entrance into The Academy, and her duty is to explain why her chosen subject was history, and specifically the history of two beings: Adam, a rebellious youth from the time before the current society, and Art, one of the very first AIs. So we read Anaximander's story while she tells us Adam's story. The structure is fairly hackneyed, although I suppose for a YA novel it will be new to its target audience and so maybe that works.
The dialogue between Art and Adam is the core of the book, with its premises about whether or not consciousness is a quality only meat can possess, and whether or not Art, who seems fully conscious in every dialogue, is in fact a philosophical zombie, or if there's more to Art than just yes/no circuitry.
To say I have mixed feelings about this book is to understate my problem with a review. The book is tightly plotted; there's not a wasted word on any page and it hums along quite well. On the other hand, it's poorly opened, with an initial conflict that, quite frankly, didn't grab me until well into the book. By outlaying in the opening chapter that this would be a story-within-a-story plot, we have to wait not only until the inner story gets moving, 20 pages in, but until Adam commits his crimes and gets sentenced be Art's "tutor" in the ways of humanity, which is about 70 pages in. That's a lot of row to hoe.
The story is also downright humorless: there's one laugh in the entire book. In many ways, that might well be a warning about the Rod Serling ending, although fans of Rod Serling will see that ending coming from about the halfway point. I certainly did, and was disappointed when Beckett rode to his inevitable conclusion.
The book also suffers from several authorial conceits. First, in order play up the Socratic dialogue of Anaximander and the review panel, many of the side-characters in The Last Republic are named after Greek philosophers: Plato, Aristotle, etc. The inner hero is named Adam Forde, and I'm confident that Beckett chose "Forde" as a nod to "Our Ford" from Huxley's Brave New World. This constant use of unrealistic names continuously pulled me out of the book. It was a struggle to stay.
Second, the author withholds from the reader knowledge the main character has from the very first page, in order to create a "jaw-dropping" moment at the end of the book. Unfortunately, experienced readers will be anticipating this alternative ending more or less the moment its introduced, about halfway through the book.
Finally, the author asks us to believe that Anaximander, this relentlessly curious, radiantly intellectual character, who has spent the last three years studying to enter The Academy, would somehow have missed completely one critical, obvious detail about The Academy. That completely blew my suspension of disbelief, and ruined the SensaWunda moment for me. I was only three pages from the ending, so I trudged toward it, knowing what was coming.
A lot of the other reviews I read of Genesis are gushing in their praise. But for someone who's been reading Vinge, Stross, Egan, Rucker, Stephenson, even early Hogan, this book was only an interesting refresher course. It accomplishes what the author set out to accomplish: it has a voice, an opinion, and a story to tell.