Old-school Ian McEwan beats 2019 Ian McEwan hands down. Next time he writes a sci-fi book, perhaps he could invent a time machine that reminds him of what a good storyteller he was (and most likely can still be).
This love triangle between two humans and a machine felt as emotionally void as a Tamagotchi's request for affection, which I do realize might have been the whole point, but for me it makes for very uninspiring reading.
Then again, I was never going to be sold on a book like this, as I can't recollect a single novel with human-like androids/machines/robots that I actually, honestly and thoroughly enjoyed (Never Let Me Go was the one that I appreciated the most, but even there saying that I really liked it would be a bit of a stretch).
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