How would Artificial Intelligence update a classic novel?
As a test, I used OpenAI‘s ChatGPT to “write” three updated chapters of Charles Dicken’s classic work, A Tale of Two Cities.
I did not suggest a word count for the chapters, thus in very unDickensian fashion, ChatGPT returned three very short chapters.
You might remember Tale opens with one of the most memorable paragraphs in English-language novels:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
This is what I used as a prompt for a modern version:
Set in the cities of Birmingham, AL and Nashville, TN, mimic the first two chapters of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, updated to modern times.
Here’s AI’s result, only one chapter:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. In Birmingham, Alabama, the city was alive with the hum of industry and the excitement of a thriving urban center. People bustled about the streets, going about their daily lives, while the gleaming skyscrapers of the city’s downtown district reached up towards the sky.
Meanwhile, in Nashville, Tennessee, the city was in the grip of poverty and crime. The streets were dirty and run-down, and many of the residents struggled to make ends meet. Despite the city’s rich musical heritage, there was little to celebrate for many of its citizens.
In both cities, the citizens were caught up in the whirlwind of change that was sweeping across the nation. In Birmingham, new technology was transforming the way people lived and worked, while in Nashville, the old ways of life were fading away, leaving many people behind.
Despite the differences between the two cities, they were connected by a common thread: the struggles and hopes of the people who lived there. Whether they were rich or poor, black or white, they all shared a common desire for a better future, a future where their children could grow up free from want and fear.
As the people of Birmingham and Nashville went about their lives, they could not know that the changes that were coming would shape their cities and their world for years to come. But for now, they could only hope for the best and prepare for the worst, as the tide of history began to turn.
Honestly, that ain’t great. That’s the book report from the dude who didn’t read the book.
For the second chapter, I prompted:
Continue the story in a new chapter. Create characters that are part of the industry in Birmingham and part of the struggle in Nashville.
Here’s the result:
In Birmingham, a young man named Jack was working at a tech startup in the heart of the city’s bustling downtown district. He was part of a team that was developing a revolutionary new app that promised to change the way people communicated and interacted with each other.
Despite the long hours and demanding work, Jack was excited about the possibilities of the app and the impact it could have on people’s lives. He was also grateful for the opportunities that the tech industry in Birmingham had given him, and he was determined to make the most of them.
Meanwhile, across the state in Nashville, a young woman named Sarah was struggling to make ends meet. She had grown up in a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, and she had seen firsthand the challenges and hardships that many of her neighbors faced.
Despite her struggles, Sarah was determined to improve her circumstances and provide a better life for herself and her family. She worked multiple jobs and took classes at the local community college in the hopes of finding a better-paying career.
But the odds were stacked against her, and she often felt like she was running on a treadmill, never getting ahead despite her best efforts. Still, she remained hopeful and optimistic, knowing that with hard work and determination, she could overcome any obstacle.
As Jack and Sarah went about their daily lives, they could not have known that their paths would eventually cross, and that their stories would become intertwined in the unfolding drama of their city. But for now, they were just two people among many, caught up in the currents of change that were sweeping across the nation.
Here we learn that Nashville, TN and Birmingham, AL are in the same state. Artificial Intelligence here proving it is not always smarter than a 5th grader, thus putting some genuine “artificial” in AI. Then, for the final chapter, I prompted:
In this chapter, introduce 3 of Jack’s coworkers. Give more details as to why their app is revolutionary; how it changes communication. Describe what led to Sarah’s circumstances being difficult.
To which ChatGPT gave me:
In the tech startup where Jack worked, there were three other coworkers who were part of his team. There was Lisa, a brilliant software engineer who had a knack for coding and debugging; Steve, a savvy business development manager who was always on the lookout for new opportunities; and Emma, a creative designer who was responsible for the user experience of the app.
Together, they were working on an app that promised to revolutionize the way people communicated and interacted with each other. Using cutting-edge technology, the app would allow users to connect with each other in real time, no matter where they were in the world. It would also feature innovative tools and features that would make it easier for people to share information and ideas with each other.
For Jack and his team, the app was more than just a project – it was a passion and a calling. They were driven by the belief that their app could make a real difference in people’s lives, and they were determined to see it through to success.
As for Sarah, her difficult circumstances were the result of a combination of factors. She had grown up in a single-parent household, with a mother who struggled to make ends meet. She had also been forced to drop out of high school when she became pregnant with her son, which had limited her opportunities and prospects.
Despite these challenges, Sarah had never given up hope. She had worked hard to support her son and provide for him, and she was determined to create a better life for both of them. She was grateful for the opportunities that the community college in Nashville had given her, and she was determined to make the most of them.
Despite a slight burst of creating with the tech talk at the top, I notice Artificial Intelligence doesn’t add surnames on its own, and quickly falls back onto tropish writing when shifting to Sarah: pregnancy, determination, hard work, and hope for the future.
It’s a Lifetime movie novel in the works.
At this point in AI’s writing life, authentic creativity is not happening. The writing quality is not above middle school. But, ChatGPT turned out the first two “chapters” in less than a minute each. The third chapter timed out thrice, but finally churned it out just as quickly. This experiment indicates Artificial Intelligence can turn out written content faster than any human, but not yet as original, descriptive, or, frankly, good.
If in doubt, here are Dickens’ next two paragraphs for comparison:
There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever.It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hun-dred and seventy-five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane brood.
France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of the Revo-lution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about with muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous.
Rest easy, Mr Dickens. For now, at least.
fides quaerens intellectum
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