Writer and performer Hannah Silva interrogates her life with the input of two unreliable narrators - an algorithm and a toddler. Her living exploration of undoing and redoing love and motherhood, and specifically queer single motherhood, unravels everything she has been taught to want and explores alternative ways of thinking, loving and parenting today. As she navigates friendship, dating and life as a single mum in London, the algorithm and toddler encourage flights of imagination and infinite mischief. Hannah and the algorithm play with language as the toddler plays with playdoh, building shapes, moulding rainbows.
Hannah writes and re-writes herself and her child, who every night asks 'tell me a story about me.' Both toddler and algorithm veer her story in unexpected directions - 'no, this way mummy!' - with a playful curiosity that injects humour and insight into the author's life as she negotiates being one of two mothers and questions how she has lived and loved in the past. With the help of the algorithm, Hannah deconstructs love, and reconstructs it too, through friendships and parenting. She questions our society, so built around the unit of the nuclear family, and a universal credit system that is impossible for any single parent to get out off - unless they move in with a partner. Queer, honest, thoughtful, sexy and compassionate, My Child, the Algorithm is non-fiction at its finest.
My Child, the Algorithm ranges broadly, touching on motherhood, parenting, sex, queerness, relationships, love, the act of writing, poetry and performance, friendship, and the mundane realities (and beauties!) of life.
All this is fascinating; Silva is immensely readable, her prose clear, precise, and fluid, occasionally flowering into what she calls 'metaphorical metaphysical poetry', that is, genuinely beautiful imagery. It is never a dull read.
Silva looks unflinchingly at the realities of motherhood, particularly at the emotional toll, the loss of selfhood, the aches and pains and embodied experience, but never does this burden become overwhelming. Silva seems always optimistic and gentle, in a way that gives great hope. The relationship between mother and child sparkles; it is the highlight of the book and will stay with you long after you finish.
So much for 'My Child', now onto 'the Algorithm'. This is where the book struggles.
I am not so interested in AI (tech is my day job) and was always going to need some convincing of its significance. AI text appears as italicised interjections to the flow of Silva's story. These are occasionally witty, sometimes interesting in a paradoxical sort of way, but never very compelling. The AI text is repetitive (a fault discussed by Silva, but never artistically justified), making it swampy and boring to read. These short statements are inserted into the text and are often only tangentially related, rather like baubles hung on a christmas tree, offering nothing to the substance of the text or its argument, just weighing it down. The reader will find themselves skipping these portions, knowing they will offer no insight, be difficult to understand at first blush, and only distract from the meat of the text.
Fortunately, Silva isn't particularly interested in the algorithm either. AI interjections grow more and more infrequent as the text picks up and Silva hits her stride. Where the child is a fully realized character (and I suppose this is obvious) the algorithm feels completely detached from the world of Silva and her family. The blurb describes the text as being 'in conversation with an AI algorithm'. There is no conversation, the algorithm is just kind of, there.
But, the idea of a book about AI in which AI is completely superfluous, adding no meaning and only serving to clutter the page and disguise the powerful human story at its core is probably the most accurate commentary on AI I can imagine. So, if that was your plan Silva, props.
This gripe is involved and very minor. If you forget that the book is supposed to be about AI (as I did), or never cared about AI in the first place (as I also did), you will find this book moving and insightful. It makes frequent quotation of other writers and their ideas, which inform Silva's thought process. I enjoyed these, but sometimes found that the long philosophical tangents broke up the outline of the narrative. This is an extended essay, though, and telling a story is not the point.
Overall; I enjoyed this book a great deal. It has certainly shaped my thinking on queerness and parenting. Just forget the whole 'AI' thing and it's a wonderful read.
My opinion of this book is split right down the middle, and I apologize in advance to Hannah Silva because I'm sure that means I'm not the ideal reader for this project. The parts of the story that I absolutely LOVED were when Silva talks about her own life as a queer single parent raising a toddler, and all the ways she makes meaning of those experiences. That content alone would have made a perfect book that I would have devoured. I think Silva has a fascinating life and perspective, and there is so much of her experience that I relate to. I really wish this had been a memoir instead. The parts that I didn't like were literally everything generated by algorithm. For my reading experience, those passages added essentially nothing and were more annoying than thought-provoking. I'm sure if I took the time to dissect each passage I could have found more significance, but that would have disrupted the reading experience. Full respect to the fact that she's a poet and I'm sure there's so much poetic meaning behind the included AI content that I missed. At the end of the day though, I'd rather read real thoughts by real humans instead of fake thoughts by not humans.
I really enjoyed reading My Child, the Algorithm: An Alternatively Intelligent Book of Love by Hannah Silva! This memoir was written in such an interesting and unique way with the aid of AI and her toddler. This book shares her thoughts on love, relationships, and queer parenting. I loved how chapter 16 made me laugh and chapter 31 was an interesting play. I really liked the specific form and approach to memoir with the varied writing style and interplay between technology and emotions.
Reading Hannahs book feels like having been allowed to read her diary - (or maybe not even been allowed to!?) or is it more like living in her brain - point being it feels so personal and honest - and so very relatable. I was suprised at how much it moved me, as I read the words she prescribed to the becoming a mother experience. Without realising it at the time, when I put the book down I realized it had been a healing read, like my body breathed a sigh of relief - that we are all in this together.
The insights and epiphanies along the way are brilliant. The reflections throughout the book had me deep in thought and I often stopped reading just to visit my own thoughts and feelings on a topic raised - thought provoking, and the analysis of past experiences in love and life where so honest and real and you can't feel anything but love after reading this. Love for the messiness of life and the people who share this mess with us.
I highly recommend this book and am excited to see what Hannah writes next.
Overall, I think it was decent. I just struggled to stay interested. Typically when I’m interested in a book, I can finish it fairly quickly. I’d recommend this book to people who enjoy AI, big words, feeling elegant, anyone in the LGBTQ2S+ community, and/or is a parent. It’s a good read as long as you can stay interested.
"Her living exploration of undoing and redoing love and motherhood, and specifically queer single motherhood, unravels everything she has been taught to want and explores alternative ways of thinking, loving and parenting today."
A beautiful read, engaging, page turning, thought provoking especially (but not only relevant to) myself as a queer mother - there is not enough of such voices out there. However I think it would have appeal to anyone with a heart!