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Can AI Write Junk-Food Fiction?

Author: James Frey

In New Bethlehem, Connecticut, the richest of the rich live and play. And they’re bored. They’re ready to spice things up, but when the party gets out of hand, the police are left with a body and endless motives. Was it the married girlfriend, her gangster/killer husband, the betrayed wife, the former boss, or any of a number of other potential killers? Because when the rich get bored, things go very bad very quickly.

When I first bought Next to Heaven from Book of the Month, I admit I wasn’t paying attention. I liked the idea of a swinger’s party turned deadly, and I’m in my thriller/murder mystery era, so it was an instant add to cart for me. I didn’t notice the author: the scandalous James Frey, who made a big splash with A Million Little Pieces, signing it as his memoir of overcoming addiction only to be exposed as a liar and fraud. And now he is back again, surrounded by an AI scandal. He claims Next to Heaven wasn’t written with AI, as does his publisher, but this is not a man whose bad boy author reputation is build on trust, and let’s be honest, this book has AI written narrative all over it. That being said, it wasn’t half bad. Perhaps I was just in the mood for some non-intellectual junk food fiction, or perhaps it was because I was on a reading marathon and going through books at top speed. So, yes, I actually enjoyed Next to Heaven. But it’s not a good book, at all, and there’s at least some AI in there. At least I hope so, otherwise James Frey doesn’t know not to use run on sentences and to actually attempt some uniform punctuation. This isn’t House of Leaves, after all.

The story focuses on four couples, each of whom attend (or are tricked into attending) a swingers’ party, complete with little cocaine care packets and access to all the best (and most illegal) money can buy. None of the characters are truly empathetic, although Alex and Grace are less hateful than the rest. Even the mistreated maid, Ana, isn’t someone with whom we can deeply connect. Part of it is the effects of the high-life and the characters’ perpetual boredom with perfection, and part of it is the casual way in which they use each other, as though people are just as throwaway as toys. And to them, I suppose they are. Even the least selfish of the characters are still very self-absorbed. Promises and loyalty mean nothing to them, and love is as interchangeable as last year’s fashions.

Of course, a story about cheating doesn’t bode well for our empathy anyway. The true story here is about the murder – the alleged whodunnit. There are two problems with this, though: the murder doesn’t happen until the last 20% of the book, and it’s obvious who the killer is and what their motive is. Even I figured it out, and I am really bad at following clues.

So, what the story is ultimately about is the set-up, the various love triangles, betrayals, ultimatums, and shady goings-on, from theft to rape to coercion to deportation. As I said – some rotten, rotten people. This, in some ways, makes them interesting, because they have no limits. But this also makes them amazingly stereotypical – just like the kind of bad rich people an AI would generate – with all the bad rich people vices. Hmmmm.

Of course, the worst aspect of the entire book is the writing itself. This is bad writing. Very bad writing. Repetitiously bad writing. Bad writing. Sorry, was channeling my inner Frey there.

But examples speak louder than complaints (right?) so here’s a random sample from the book, keeping Frey’s grammar intact.

She slept late. She stayed in bed after she woke up. She got out of bed to smoke a joint it made everything hurt less her body her heart her soul. Charlie and Billy were both away, both at the same tournament. Charlie was sleeping with Belle Hedges she knew it was unlikely she would hear from him. She dreaded hearing from Billy, everything that motherfucker did hurt, every part of her hurt. She hadn’t done her laundry she wasn’t going to do it (186).

This sample doesn’t even include the way that entire paragraphs will end without a period. And to think, people are afraid AI will take our jobs . . .

There isn’t much to this book. But it’s a thoughtless beach read, and it does read fast. I didn’t hate it, like I expected to, but I won’t ever read Frey again either.

– Frances Carden

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Frances Carden
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