What does it mean to be human? For Evan Aster Reed, having flesh, blood, and a specific set of chromosomes has little to do with it. In A MAN, A MACHINE, AND THE THING IN THE DARK, he suggests that personhood should be defined by an organism’s ability to feel, to love, and to empathize, rather than the components of its physical form. Exploring this idea, he creates an unsettling, futuristic world in which androids often show greater compassion than their natural-born counterparts. Readers are left with one burning question upon reaching the final chapter: who is the man and who is the machine? Differentiating, it turns out, is harder than one might think.
The novella follows Camden, a young mechanologist who is left traumatized after witnessing his friend’s murder. His troubles further escalate when he begins seeing a psychiatrist, Dr. Morgan, who is better versed in sadism than stress-relief methods. When their destructive relationship reaches dangerous heights, an unlikely duo named Gear and Rave make it their mission to save Camden. The only thing that these two heroes have in common, however, is that they were both artificially created to serve humanity. Although Reed’s science-fiction/horror hybrid treads a well-worn path, he makes it his own by portraying robots in a deeply sympathetic and humanistic way, rather than casting them as objects of fear. Unlike popular sci-fi novels such as Jack Williamson’s The Humanoids or Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, A MAN, A MACHINE, AND THE THING IN THE DARK rejects the familiar man versus machine trope to embrace the possibility of a harmonious future in which technology and humanity can work peacefully side-by-side. It is best to view the tale in allegorical terms because its underdeveloped characters appear to exist primarily as vehicles for Reed’s message. For example, Dr. Morgan, with his claw-like hands and violent tendencies, is the very personification of evil, while Rave comes across as ludicrously saccharine and selfless. These characterizations certainly lack nuance, but thankfully the story never slips into outright didacticism. Although it misses the mark at various points, glimmers of existential insight can still be gleaned between chunks of lackluster prose and clunky dialogue. Unfortunately, instances of repetitive sentence construction hinder the text’s flow, but this problem is easily solved by rigorous editing. Overall, A MAN, A MACHINE, AND THE THING IN THE DARK is not quite there yet, but promise can be found between its pages nonetheless.
Despite some minor issues with characterization and flow, Evan Aster Reed’s A MAN, A MACHINE, AND THE THING IN THE DARK presents a thought-provoking new spin on a hackneyed science fiction trope.
~Alison Traynor for IndieReader