“You know me now. You know him as well as I did. Maybe better. You have raised the dead and given us one more turn. Now tell me how this long match ought to end.”
“Our first god mad the world from eggshells and tears and bone. Then our artists made the other gods out of shells and coral and sand and the fiber from palm fronds. All those gods are dead now, now. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to make?”
“For centuries, the island has always hung flowers around the necks of its destroyers.”
“It a thing still garbage once life starts using it?”
The last of the 2024 Booker Prize Longlist needs to be on syllabi regarding the art of storytelling; it’s certainly a book that begs to be studied for craft purposes. But I’m not surprised – it’s Richard Powers, after all. Playground (W.W. Norton & Company 2024) is an expansive, fragmented man vs. man, man vs. nature, and man vs. machine with an ending that seems both a cheap trick and the only possibly and brilliant conclusion.
The novel ripples, like a tidal pool of life, focusing on Evie Beaulieu, a female diver, Ina Aroita, a Pacific Islander who grew on bases across the Pacific with no true home, Rafi Young, a black man from Chicago with the weight of the world, his race, and his family on his shoulders who gets lost in literature, and Todd Keane, a once rich white kid who loses himself to the technology that will change the world. Long story short? As a child, Todd read Evie’s book and fell in love with her and the ocean. That love was replaced with one for Rafi and board games. When the friends went to college, they roomed together, their lives so intertwined. Enter Ina. A girl they both loved. Choices were made and children grew up.
Stop reading now if you don’t want this novel spoiled.
When the novel opens, Todd, age 57, has recently been diagnosed with Dementia with Lewy bodies. Extremely successful and extremely rich, he finds himself getting his affairs in order, parsing out hallucinations from reality, and getting lost in memories (and in the grocery store). Meanwhile, on the island of Makatea, Rafi and Ina and the two children they’ve adopted, are preparing for their island to be sold to the highest bidder. A California corporation wants to use the island as a base for seastanding, a series of floating cities that move and interlock much like the pieces on a gameboard. Building it will destroy so much of the life on and around the island. But it will also provide funds that will greatly improve the lives of the inhabitants of the island, which include Rafi, Ina, and Evie, now in her 90s. It’s not a surprise that Todd is behind the corporation spearheading seastanding; the reader can gather that pretty much immediately. The surprise comes later.
Stop reading. Seriously.
Playground is the story of a man who has built a machine that allows him to resurrect the dead, a path Rafi had set him on back in high school, and that machine is feeding him stories of how he wants life to shake out, how the game should end. Rafi and Ina were never married, they never adopted children, or had an island life together. Rafi never really found peace. He died surrounded by his books and frenzied writings and his desire for perfection. Todd and Rafi never reconciled. Evie, the great female diver and Todd’s first love, is also dead. Ina is living on an island with adopted children, and that truth forms a foundation for the stories Todd’s great creation spits out. And that’s the surprise – the computer has cobbled the story from Todd’s memories, Rafi’s writings, Evie’s book. And that is why Rafi, Ina, and Evie all shimmer, a little glitch here and there that one could argue is lack of character development (like Evie’s announcement she likes women that never goes anywhere), but it’s because the computer is regurgitating what Todd has feed it in palatable way to please Todd – they’re not real.
The question we’re left with is which story is better – the truth or the world that was created? This question is one that isn’t uncommon in works of fiction – as mentioned previously, the reveal seems a bit of a trick. A very popular example that asks on the page which story is better is Life of Pi. In Life of Pi the driving force behind the story with the animals in one of literal survival. In Playground, the driving force behind this beautiful island world is fear and love and the desire to win. I don’t think there is any other way the story could have ended.
While not my favorite selection from the longlist, I’d argue it belongs on the shortlist. Hopefully, I’ll get a complete Booker wrap up soon that will detail my rankings. I am very excited to have finished the entire longlist before the winner is announced next week.
Playground is a spotlight on how technology, AI and social media are eroding human interactions and nature while also breathing new life into the dead, lost, and forgotten. Go read this book. Then maybe play a board game with a friend on some grass.
Booker Count: 13 of 13