The Machine

Beth lives in a remote village by the sea, a desolate place where she can rebuild her life following the return of her husband after the war. Vic is haunted by his memories and turns to a machine to take his nightmares away, but it takes everything away; now Beth is determined to rebuild him.

Dubbed as Frankenstein for the 21st century, The Machine is a wonderfully dark and complex novel that really deserves more attention. I normally get annoyed when novels are compared to Frankenstein; how can any novel truly compare? The Machine was a different story; I wasn’t expecting it to compare to Frankenstein, I was more interested with the dark and complex nature of this book. The novel reminds me more of the British TV show Black Mirror; there are two episodes in particular, the episode where all memories are recorded for instant playback (1×3) and the one where a woman loses her husband and turns to a service that continues his online life (2×1). The show is considered “a hybrid of The Twilight Zone and Tales of the Unexpected which taps into our contemporary unease about our modern world” and is designed to be thought provoking. In fact The Machine feels right at home with the style of that show.

Imagine if you can record all your memories and then wipe the ones that cause pain? Would removing some memories change a person completely? What if that machine wipes every memory and leaves the person catatonic? What are the moral implications of playing with someone’s memories? How should the government regulate scientific advances like this? If you could, would you try to rebuild a loved one? There are just so many questions to answer and The Machine does a great job of creating more. Don’t expect answers, this book is all about giving you questions.

I love a novel that gets you questioning life and philosophy. James Smythe masterfully does what so many try to do, it’s so refreshing to read something like this but it makes me sad that this book isn’t getting more attention. I feel the need to read every James Smythe book I can get my hands on in the desire to experience this feeling again. Science Fiction is a genre that really can explore humanity and morality and Smythe reminds the readers that it’s possible. In the 60s and 70s it felt like all Sci-Fi novels had a message and we have exchanged that for entertainment. Not that there is anything wrong with entertaining the reader but you can do that while exploring philosophical ideas.

There is so much I want to say about this book and the majority of it is positive but I won’t, I think everyone should read this book and experience it for themselves. The plot is compelling and James Smythe writes like a master of his craft. The Machine has already secured a place in my “best books of 2013” list and I want to read more of his books, just to have this experience again. Go out now and get your copy of The Machine.

This review originally appeared on my blog; literary-exploration.com/2013/09/11/book-review-the-machine/

PURGE, COMMIT, REPLENISH.

Beth is taking delivery of a Machine. A Machine that holds the key to getting her husband back. When he returned from the war a changed man, the new technology promised to take away his memories, take away the horrors that woke him in the night. But years later the machines are banned, their side-effects too severe to be of any use. Beth has read the forums and she knows there is a possibility that she can rebuild her husband from the files that were purged.

The themes of The Machine are the sort of questions that keep me awake at night. What makes us sentient? Are we more than just biological hard-drives plugged into complex hardware? Once you take away memories and experiences, even if they are bad, are we left with the same person? I‘ve been reading a few books that have picked up on these questions recently, but this pushes them to their limits.

Beyond the existential questions, there are some wonderful snippets of everyday life, such as the delivery of the cumbersome machine at the start and the dilemma of how to get it through the doors and up the stairs. Beth is a teacher, but she is plagued by a group of boys on the streets of her estate. Many of us recognise that fear when walking past kids of a certain age these days. So unpredictable, so easy to provoke unintentionally. The setting is a not too distant future where global warming seems to have struck; long periods of stiflingly hot weather with monsoon-esque rains, flooding the streets. The image of flooded Britain will remind us of many a scene we’ve seen in the news of the past few years.

The machine itself has an ominous presence. Its constant thrum follows Beth throughout the story, a constant reminder of her actions. Its lack of futuristic sleekness contributes to the reality; that she could have gone for a newer model but instead she has a hulking mass of a machine, reminiscent of all our older, discarded technology. Although there is a horrific few moments when she is cleaning the unlocked touchscreen…

Some scenes also touch on the actions of those so often forgotten; carers. There are some emotionally difficult moments where Beth must take care of Vic. They are humiliating and heartbreaking in their necessity, but an everyday occurrence for so many carers, both professional and those taking care of their loved ones.

I used to find lack of speech-marks hard going, but with familiarity they have become easier. Here, they offer an almost dreamlike quality. The question over what is spoken aloud or not becomes quite relevant as the book goes on. There’s a prevailing sadness throughout, accompanied by the kind of loneliness that comes from keeping secrets. Beth is isolated both mentally and physically, by the estate she lives on which is in turn on an island. It took me a while to realise she lived on the Isle of Wight; instead I was imagining an island formed from the flooding of Portsmouth. Her only friend is devoutly Christian, perhaps the person least likely to accept her actions, considering religious objections to science as well as the moral implications.

The Machine isn’t being marketed as science fiction but it serves up the best of what the genre has to offer; contemplating how far science should go and the meaning of existence. I can imagine some readers may object to the ending. At first it might appear inconsistent, but the brain fills in gaps for us as we read and our assumptions are not always correct.