![]() ![]() A slight taste of the mind of McEwan.Ĭharlie lived the life of a thirty-three-year-old man. In the autumn of the twentieth century, it came about at last, the first steps towards the fulfilment of an ancient dream, the beginning of the long lesson we would teach ourselves that however complicated we were, however faulty and difficult to describe in even our simplest actions of being, we would be imitated and bettered” (1). In loftiest terms, we aimed to escape our immortality, More practically, we intended to devise an improved, more modern version of ourselves and exult in the joy of invention, the thrill of mastery. ![]() As soon as it was feasible, we had no choice but to follow our desires and hang the consequences. Our ambitions ran high and low-for a creation my myth made real, for a monstrous act of self-love. Ian writes, “It was religious yearning granted hope, it was the holy grail of science. Answering that conundrum will require a serious exploration of the human mind. I pondered whether he likes machines or the machines like him. I always learn a few things and add to my vocabulary while thoroughly enjoying his work. One of my most often reviewed authors is Ian McEwan. ![]() I’m Jim McKeown, welcome to Likely Stories, a weekly review of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and biographies. ![]()
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