A man newly in love knows what life is.” But that distinction begins to erode a few weeks later, when Adam reveals that he too has fallen in love with Miranda.
Gazing at his new purchase as it charges up for the first time and thinking of Miranda, the young woman upstairs whom he has recently fallen for, Charlie registers the ontological distance between himself and the android: Adam has “a semblance of breath, but not of life. That moment is somewhat delayed in Machines Like Me, Ian McEwan’s new novel set in an alternative 1980s London, where the narrator, Charlie, has just purchased Adam, one of the first batch of truly lifelike artificial humans. In almost any book about artificial life, there comes a moment when the humans, like Victor Frankenstein, are obliged to confront the full reality of what they’ve created.
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