At one point, almost at the end of his Night on orderas if she realized that it was time to change, if only out of politeness towards her editor who had this idea of the my night collection at the museum, and speak a little, if only to say that she had not spent the night at the museum, this idea not worth a trick, take the trouble to show, to have the courage to say it, the coarse insolence of telling how she did not make the book. To ask Chatgpt : “Can you write to me a book on the theme ‘One night at the Museum on the Stock Exchange’?”
The chatbot’s response is instantaneous, as reassuring for our future as a writer as dismay for what the profession of journalist will become. This soup of common places under its cultural gratin, this efficiency in well-term, agreed, universally correct, and with this balance in the certainty of having answered the demand and deserving an 18 out of 20, it literally folded me with laughter.
I had a similar experience at the time of the release of this big cyber cockroach, two years ago: “What relationship between Paul Ricœur and Christophe Giving?” I asked him.
“The interest of giving for Ricœur’s thought”
The amazing response of immediacy had delighted me. First, a detail, I was dead. I quote: “Christophe Donn (1937-2021) was a French writer, journalist and essayist, and he was also the son-in-law of Paul Ricœur. Indeed, giving was married to Valérie Ricœur, the daughter of Paul Ricœur. Paul Ricœur and Christophe Don therefore knew themselves as a stepfather. We can assume that Ricœur and Giving have had personal and family interactions because of their family bond. Paul Ricœur or the worried self In 2005, in which he explored the life and work of Ricœur. This book testifies to the interest of giving for Ricœur’s thought and for philosophy in general. “
The tastiest being the formula: “It is also interesting to note”. But also this faculty of telling anything that borders on Oulipian poetry, until the title: Paul Ricœur or the worried self. What derailment is this intelligence the artifact?
AI progress
If I believe the text that the same chatbot provided Christine Angot, artificial intelligence has made great progress, in two years. Today, he would no longer commit blunders like “they knew each other as a stepfather”, a formula which implies that Paul Ricœur had a child for my daughter. And that I have done one to his. Atmosphere with white walls!
Can autobiographical literature still do without questioning a chatbot? This super distorting mirror offered to the great narcissists that we are can only become a invigorating source of inspiration. Beyond the question of AI, what makes me happy in this case is the question of quotes.
We must be happy that, after a certain age, the infantile illusion of his genius having been carried away by the autumn wind to make way for a form of humility, the quotes no longer appear to the writer as appeals, but as donations made to his readers, as if it were time for him to think a little of them and to transmit the pieces of excellence discovered throughout his research. I obviously do not speak of plagiarism, something that I hate. No need to evoke Svetlana Alexievitch to understand it.
After seeing her film, last year, I made the bet that Christine Angot had just decided the Gordian knot, that the cinematographic act had saved him, she and her talent. Its Night on order confirms it.
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