Speak has been an interesting novel to read, especially through the third part. I felt like the first two parts really served to immerse us and give us a backdrop for what has happened in the third part and what is about to happen in parts four and five, when shit really starts to hit the fan in the five stories we are following.
I am frustrated with this book, but I’m only really frustrated with the people I feel are too attached to memory. I’m frustrated with Alan for his inability to let Chris go and move on from his unhealthy obsession with Chris so that he can start to live like he wants to (he’s convinced only Chris possesses the power to let him do this, but he’s wrong). I’m frustrated with Mary for convincing herself that her connection with her babybot is better than her connection with her family. I’m frustrated with Ruth for her inability to move on from the past and recognize that. I’m frustrated with people who have an unhealthy relationship with the past in real life, today (and I hope that they can one day find a healthy balance between remembering and moving on).
I firmly believe that growing up with technology has given me a truly unique perspective on its effects. As I grew up and obtained my new iPhone, Macbook, updated and modernized Polaroid camera, Google Docs account, and many other technologies that allow me to document life I found that documenting everything about everything is so exhausting. I have grown fond of the process of things getting old and slowly fading away, of letting go of the hard copy because as you get older, there is only so much room for tangible items that correlate to one’s memory. This is only a natural process of life, one that is bittersweet in the best way by allowing one to remember only their best, more important memories. Even those, though, eventually fade away. I can’t exactly remember the last thing my summer swim league coach said to me before he passed away, but I remember the feeling of true joy I felt standing under the lifeguard chair he sat in at my neighborhood pool the last time we spoke. I can’t remember exactly what the random boy I met and played with at the beach in third grade looked like, but I can remember how much fun we had and the fuzzy feeling of the crush I developed for him in my gut.
My point is that machine memory can nowhere even begin to compare to the memory of human capacity. Like Stephen Chinn describes (and Karl warned Ruth against), computers remember but lack the ability to give memories weight. In terms of the technology we have today, yes we can take a ton of pictures and save them to camera rolls and Snapchat memories, but nothing stops the tech company from turning around and programming a look back on past memories that someone really doesn’t want to be reminded of.
Gaby thought that her babybot was more authentic than MARY3, but both pick and choose the voices that they use in a certain situation. Even today, mankind’s tendency to ignore the lack of authenticity technologies have is alarming. Is this because we enjoy the ease with which we can interact with something programmed to ensure we have a pleasant experience?