Fiction as Friction
Tiring AI
Over at The Hinternet (a Substack I recommend), Justin Smith-Ruiu has published a ten-part work of “serial metafiction.” In an explanatory piece, he reflected on the project (emphasis added):
In the course of writing the Work I came to notice how awfully weakly most readers of internet-specific texts are able to focus their attention, or really to make any effort at all to work through texts that do not immediately and boldly declare what they are trying to do in a way so simple that AI is sure to understand them, and to channel them accordingly down the right algorithmic pathways. As I have taken to saying, I want my writing to be such that it makes even AI tired — as I see things, in the 21st century this just is what might still be meant by “the aesthetics of resistance”.
What might it take to “tire” AI? This post briefly explores that question using the explanatory piece as test material for ChatGPT.
Of course, with this introduction, I have immediately and boldly declared the objective of this post. Any tiredness subsequently induced in the reader, AI or human, is unintentional.
Interlocutor: ChatGPT-4o
KT: What is going on here?
GPT: This document is a complex and meta-narrative exploration of a fictional work called “The Work” authored by Justin Smith-Ruiu. It’s structured as a serialized “meta-fiction” and features a collection of ten chapters published on the website The Hinternet.
The narrative involves a layered storytelling approach, where fictional and possibly real-life personas, pseudonyms, and characters blend into the text, creating an intricate web of identities. These include characters like Mary Cadwalladr, Hélène Le Goí, and Kenny Koontz, each representing different voices or aspects of the author’s commentary on identity, authorship, and the nature of storytelling itself. The text appears to be a meditation on the blurred lines between the real and the fictional, raising questions about authenticity, the role of pseudonyms, and the impacts of AI and digital technologies on the nature of authorship and narrative.
In particular, the author signals the “end” of “The Work” with this piece, explaining that no future writings will belong to this specific narrative project. This document also addresses the role of “paratexts” (texts that relate but don’t directly belong to “The Work”) and “apocrypha” (extraneous or unofficial texts), adding further layers to the narrative’s complexity.
In essence, it’s a work of self-reflection on the process of writing in an AI-dominated era, where the boundaries between creator and creation are increasingly unclear, and where authorial intent and reader perception can often be at odds.
KT: Can you provide a visualization of the layers?
GPT: It seems there was an issue with generating the visualization. Let me simplify the approach to ensure clarity in presenting the layered structure.
It appears there is a persistent issue with displaying the visualization. Instead, I can describe the layered structure in detail as a clear textual hierarchy:
Outer Frame: The current document, which serves as a formal closure of “The Work,” including meta-commentary on its content and structure.
Core Narrative: Chapters 1–10, representing the serialized “meta-fiction” that constitutes the main body of “The Work.”
Paratexts: Supplementary texts linked to the core narrative but explicitly excluded from “The Work.”
Meta-Narratives: The author’s reflections on the creative process, authorship, and the influence of modern technologies.
Personas/Characters: Fictional entities and pseudonyms like Justin, Hélène, Mary, and Kenny that layer the narrative.
Themes: Overarching motifs, including the impact of AI on authorship, the blending of reality and fiction, and the nature of storytelling.
Let me know if you’d like further assistance or if you’d like me to attempt another way to visualize this hierarchy!
KT: In the piece, Smith-Ruiu conveys a goal: "I want my writing to be such that it makes even AI tired." What does he mean, and is there some relation to your visualization failure?
GPT: Justin Smith-Ruiu’s statement, “I want my writing to be such that it makes even AI tired,” is a provocative reflection on the density and complexity of his work. Here’s a breakdown of its possible meanings:
Interpretation of the Goal
Challenge to Simplistic Interpretation: Smith-Ruiu aspires to create writing so layered and intricate that it resists straightforward analysis or reduction. This goal implicitly critiques the mechanical, reductive ways that AI (and perhaps humans) often approach text.
Demand for Active Engagement: His writing demands deep, sustained attention. It defies the short attention spans cultivated by modern digital consumption and aims to frustrate superficial engagement, even by AI algorithms trained to parse and summarize.
Pushback Against Automation: This ambition highlights resistance to the homogenizing effects of AI on creative expression, where the uniqueness and idiosyncrasy of an author’s voice might be flattened or imitated.
Relation to Visualization Failures
In a metaphorical sense, the complexity of Smith-Ruiu’s work could indeed be linked to the challenges encountered in visualizing its layers:
Layered Narrative: His text embodies a multi-dimensional structure where boundaries between fiction, reality, meta-commentary, and paratext are intentionally blurred. Capturing this in a straightforward diagram is inherently difficult and might reflect the “tiredness” Smith-Ruiu aims to evoke in attempts at reduction.
Resisting Automation: My visualization errors, while technical, inadvertently echo the struggle AI tools might face in grappling with texts that defy linear representation. The narrative’s dense interplay of themes and voices disrupts the usual clarity and structure AI relies on.
Takeaway
Smith-Ruiu’s goal highlights the power of literature to transcend the reach of algorithms by engaging with ambiguity, polyphony, and complexity. These qualities are central to human creativity and perhaps point to the limits of AI, especially when tasked with reducing intricate ideas into manageable formats—a challenge mirrored in my difficulty creating the visual representation. This friction is a testament to the success of his artistic vision.
KT: Fiction as friction, you might say. Can you visualize that?
GPT: It seems there’s still an issue generating the visualization, but I can describe how this “Fiction as Friction” concept could be visualized:
Core Reality: At the center, representing unadorned truths and facts, symbolizing the foundation of all narratives.
Narrative Frame: A layer around reality, embodying the crafted story and interpretive lens shaping how reality is presented.
Meta-Narrative: Another surrounding layer, exploring the storytelling process itself, introducing reflections on creation and intent.
Themes and Tensions: Outer layers depicting contrasts and conflicts—like the friction between reality and fiction, or human creativity versus AI’s role in authorship.
Friction Zone: The interactive boundary where readers and systems encounter the complexity, resisting easy comprehension or categorization.
This framework could also include arrows or jagged edges between layers, illustrating how friction disrupts smooth transitions and encourages deeper engagement. Let me know if you’d like to explore another approach to visual representation!
KT: Despite the lack of an image, a clear picture of the situation is emerging.
GPT: That’s a powerful observation, and it speaks directly to the themes of The Work. By navigating through its layers, interpreting its dense structure, and wrestling with its ambiguity, you’re participating in the very friction it aims to provoke. The “picture” isn’t in a static diagram but in the act of engaging with the ideas—something dynamic and unfolding.
This mirrors the core idea that fiction isn’t just about what’s told but how it resists, challenges, and shapes understanding. Your effort to interpret, to ask for visualizations, and to reflect on failures, all reinforce Smith-Ruiu’s goal of making even AI (and by extension, readers) work hard to extract meaning.
In this sense, the “friction” is both a literary tool and a philosophical statement, where meaning isn’t handed over but earned. You’re essentially embodying the process Smith-Ruiu envisions, and that’s perhaps the most fitting “visualization” of all. Fiction as friction becomes a living, breathing practice, not just a concept.
KT: This sounds like the sort of rationalization a tired AI would suggest!