On one level, Annie Bot is a keenly observed portrait of a dysfunctional — even abusive — relationship ... But Greer goes deeper, teasing out the contradictions and vulnerabilities in their relationship and showing us glimpses of the real love that Doug and Annie could have, if he were better and she were free. The ending feels rushed, but there’s a truth to this abruptness: When insupportable situations end, they end quickly. All the best stories about artificial intelligence hinge on identity: Do our memories define us? Do our bodies represent who we are? Annie Bot, astonishingly, finds new ways to ask these well-worn questions. I kept reading Annie Bot way after bedtime, partly to see if Annie could escape from her prison, but also because every few pages there was an observation that made me think about both AI and human relationships anew.
Greer’s novel is, in fact, a brilliant pas de deux, grappling with ideas of freedom and identity while depicting a perverse relationship in painful detail ... I was struck by Greer’s nuanced portrait of a person whose soul is curdled by his exercise of power over another being ... There are moments when the novel strains credulity: We never learn how Doug earns enough money to purchase a custom sex robot, and despite living in an advanced technological era, he still has 783 analog books on his shelf. We do, however, learn that he is liberal. I suspect these details are meant to illustrate that erudition and liberal politics do not inoculate against misogyny, but they feel pat. The novel also gestures toward the significance of race and transgender identity in a world where humans and A.I. intermingle, but these ideas remain unexplored. The novel’s sparse world-building and relatively quiet prose do not detract from its strength, though. Like Annie conserving the memory in her CPU, the novel marshals its real power to depict its central relationships. The result is a gripping depiction of the ideologies that shape this novel’s world — and our own world too.
Greer sounds a different alarm, warning that A.I. could conserve oppressive gender norms that we should be working to delete rather than uploading to the cloud ... Now that A.I. companions are real products rather than surrogates for exploited workers—and, in fact, are manufactured by those workers—Greer’s attempt at a feminist parable about A.I. short-circuits ... Miss[es] the mark by avoiding the market in which our romance with tech unfolds.
In illustrating the push and pull within their relationship, Greer’s debut takes a sharp aim at domestic abuse. Annie’s entrapment feels controlling and claustrophobic, yet she and the reader are both sympathetic towards Doug. This nuanced novel provides a fascinating look into a future we may never wish for.
The robot science is scant (there’s more about Annie’s skimpy outfits than her wiring) and the plot is slow to boil, but Greer’s take on human-AI relationships captivates (some of the best scenes are of Annie and Doug in couples therapy) while avoiding the overdone trope of androids longing for consciousness. Annie knows who she is; it’s the human who turns out to be the 'fraud.' There’s lots to chew on.
Greer’s novel presents an intricate, intimate look at the fundamentals of human relationships. Easily accessible for general readers and science fiction aficionados alike, the book reflects the transformation of Annie into a complex emotional being. Unflinching in its examination of humanity.
Greer’s tale unfolds courtesy of a close third-person-present narrative that beautifully captures the way Annie experiences life, at once as a computer and as an emotionally intelligent being. The nuanced plot titillates while sensitively exploring issues of consent, self-empowerment, and domestic abuse. Provocative and powerful.
