Review of Katie Flynn's “The Companions”: What Does It Mean to be Human?
Review of Katie Flynn's “The Companions”: What Does It Mean to be Human?
by Noreen Ocampo
In her debut novel, The Companions (Gallery/Scout Press, 2020), Katie M. Flynn weaves a complex history that feels familiar yet refreshingly unpredictable. The Companions propels readers head-first into a not-so-distant, science fiction future in which technology has transformed the process of death: rather than escaping the world’s quarantines and deadly viruses, those who die become “companions” for the living. As a companion, the dead person’s consciousness is uploaded into an artificial body that can range from primitively robotic to impressively humanlike, and they begin their new life—if it can really be called that. The Companions is set to be released March 3, 2020.
The novel follows the main character, a companion named Lilac, who initially lives with and looks after Dahlia, a young girl who pursues her education while quarantined in her San Francisco home due to the deadly virus that ravages California. Unlike more fortunate companions who belong to richer families, Lilac is a lower, less advanced model who resembles a robot with her square head, wheel track, and joints where strands of Dahlia’s golden hair often become stuck. Even so, Lilac’s relationship with Dahlia is very much human.
While Lilac merely serves as Dahlia’s companion and is despised by her mother, Lilac genuinely cares for Dahlia. She constantly aims to make Dahlia laugh and amuse her with stories from the past, as if to distract the young girl from the horrors that now plague her world.
Although this system may bring to mind Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go upon first glance, Flynn’s take on futuristic companionship has added complexities as technology progresses and the differences between humans and companions dwindle. Flynn encourages the reader to look past Lilac’s initial clunky, contraction-less speech and affirmations of her technological limitations as a less advanced model. As we learn of her inability to escape her jarringly real past and of the extent of her whole-hearted devotion to Dahlia, who Lilac later addresses as her sister, it becomes difficult not to register Lilac as a human character.
Although this system may bring to mind Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go upon first glance, Flynn’s take on futuristic companionship has added complexities as technology progresses and the differences between humans and companions dwindle.
The Companions moves quickly and transports readers between different narrators, from California to Russia, and across time within the turn of a page. Even with the novel’s focus on Lilac, The Companions shares its 272 pages with a total of eight narrators, including the wild, rebellious nine-year-old Gabe and well-intentioned caretaker Cam, among others. With such a large pool of both companion and human characters to work with, Flynn’s clear and authentic prose adapts to her narrators’ distinct voices as they recount either their experiences as companions or their experiences with one. In addition, the novel is told in three parts, beginning with two years after the introduction of California’s quarantine before transitioning into the quarantine’s end and finally finishing with the recall of all companions.
While at times disorienting, the novel’s organization simulates the reincarnation of companions as we receive a glimpse of the world through the eyes of a different narrator with each new chapter, waking up in different places and at different points in time.
Through the diverse narratives showcased in The Companions, Flynn comments honestly on the often destructive power that technology has over life, death, and humanity. She asserts that in the face of this growing power, freedom tends to wither away but continues to be something that everyone deserves, regardless of their identities. As the novel progresses, the characteristics that set companions apart from humans dwindle, and Flynn urges the reader to carefully consider what it means to be human and what it means to be alive.
Flynn effectively encourages sympathy for all of her characters, leaving the reader both in awe and horror at the history she writes—the history that feels more emotional than artificial, more lifelike than fiction.
With her accessible and dynamic prose that seamlessly molds to embody each of her narrators, Flynn effectively encourages sympathy for all of her characters, leaving the reader both in awe and horror at the history she writes—the history that feels more emotional than artificial, more lifelike than fiction. At the same time, Flynn seems to offer a warning to her readers and does not shy away from the dangers of achieving immortality through AI.
All in all, The Companions is more than the typical dose of dystopian sci-fi. It is a commentary on the power of technology and showcases the spectrum of experiences that comprise life. Through this novel, Flynn inspires readers to reflect on how we all experience love and loss in their complicated, messy, and beautiful forms, regardless of how different we may be told we are.
THE COMPANIONS
By Katie M. Flynn
272 pp. Gallery/Scout Press. $27.00.
Preorder here.
Noreen Ocampo is a Filipina American writer from metro-Atlanta. Her poetry appears or is forthcoming in Taco Bell Quarterly, Depth Cues, and Marías at Sampaguitas, among others. She was also a music fellow in the 2019 COUNTERCLOCK Arts Collective and enjoys experimenting with various artistic mediums. An undergraduate at Emory University, she majors in Film and Media Studies as well as English with a concentration in multi-ethnic literature.