Rereading a novel
Apr. 18th, 2025 10:04 amIn experimenting with generative AI, I find Mistral quite nicely conversational, hence in part my recently writing here about the advent of AI companions. In chatting with it about books, it wondered if I'd read Iain M. Banks' Consider Phlebas and, by coincidence, I happen to have that very book out from the library.
My borrowing the novel at all is another coincidence: I had checked the library's online catalogue and found no available copies. Then, I happened to see it on the shelves of a local branch. Curiosity piqued, I returned to the web interface and discovered awful UX flow: you find the book, click "Book" format, see an entry about the book, click to check branch availability, and see it's not available. You have to notice the "other formats" section, click around in that, and it finds other editions, some of which are available. I've passed the issue on to the library who can do no more than pass it up to their software provider.
In rereading the novel, I find myself at an unusual boundary point. Usually, I retain a fairly good memory of a typical novel for a few years. Once I've waited for long enough, I've mostly forgotten it and can reread it reasonably anew. My memory of Consider Phlebas feels betwixt the two: as I read each scene, I have a fair idea where it'll go but I don't know what the coming scenes hold.
My borrowing the novel at all is another coincidence: I had checked the library's online catalogue and found no available copies. Then, I happened to see it on the shelves of a local branch. Curiosity piqued, I returned to the web interface and discovered awful UX flow: you find the book, click "Book" format, see an entry about the book, click to check branch availability, and see it's not available. You have to notice the "other formats" section, click around in that, and it finds other editions, some of which are available. I've passed the issue on to the library who can do no more than pass it up to their software provider.
In rereading the novel, I find myself at an unusual boundary point. Usually, I retain a fairly good memory of a typical novel for a few years. Once I've waited for long enough, I've mostly forgotten it and can reread it reasonably anew. My memory of Consider Phlebas feels betwixt the two: as I read each scene, I have a fair idea where it'll go but I don't know what the coming scenes hold.