Breathe
By Mónica Hernández
The recent news was discouraging: we writers were going to disappear as a guild, or if we were lucky, we would learn to ask a chat room to write a text for us, based on our vectors, which in this guild is known by the technical and terrifying name of "escaleta". A script, come on. I can't make up my mind, because what exists in my head, including reason, bows with my feelings and rebels in a corporeal way as simple and plain envy. I do not want Artificial Intelligence to write a text with my ideas. I am fractious. Maybe I should try, as did the 2012 Nobel laureate in Literature, Mo Yan (pseudonym Guan Moye), to have a 1,000-word speech, in honor of a fellow friend of his, another writer named Yu Hua. What a friend, the envious would say. He had known each other for so long that he did not write the text in a "personal" way, archaic, medieval or whatever you want to call it, but in a modern, daring and even cheating way. Time was eating him, as it usually does, and he needed the speech for a presentation with long tablecloths and gala dresses. Mo Yan typed the words "live", "extract a tooth" (the honored writer is a former dentist) and "lost city", "Shakespeare" style in the ChatGPT and the text appeared in seconds. The debate was served.
The disagreement is between critics, writers and readers, who do not hesitate to question the authenticity and creativity of the process. I have no doubt that just as in geometry, Artificial Intelligence and Literature rub together and even touch each other. Perhaps, they will cross each other creating something like a spiral. I am also sure that they will touch each other, like teenagers with uncontrollable hormones because human nature is towards evolution.
