Is it Jane Austen or AI?

Another scary game

Saturday Morning Serial

Saturday Morning Serial is the weekend section of Library Binding. It’s a personal corner where I publish short stories, book reviews, literary musings, and updates on The Novel Envelope.

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Let’s play a game, shall we?

A while back, I wrote a quick paragraph of fiction, and I asked AI to write one on the same topic, and it was hard to tell which was human-made versus robot-made.

Today, I’m venturing into the perverse. (Forgive me.)

I want to know: Can AI imitate a talented author like, say, Jane Austen?

A creepy AI-generated Jane Austen

I’m going to give you two paragraphs, one written by Jane Austen and the other written by AI, immediately followed by the correct answer. (See how good I am at immediate gratification?)

If you want to play, then don’t scroll down too quickly. And don’t cheat. It will ruin it.

Okay, ready? Go.

Paragraph 1

"It is not so fine a morning as to invite anyone of reason," Elinor observed, glancing at the puddles still standing in the yard. But reason was never the standard by which Marianne chose her pleasures. “It is the finest morning we have had all week,” she insisted, securing her cloak. Margaret, eager to escape the confines of the parlour, needed no persuasion. Their mother, contented with a book, nodded. Thus permitted and unrestrained, the two girls departed, their laughter carrying back to the cottage with more cheer than the birds. Marianne walked with the lofty air of one newly restored to nature’s favour, while Margaret splashed across puddles with the avidity of one who would not regret wet stockings, even when obliged to change them. Marianne, breathing deeply, declared with conviction that only the dullest heart could call such a morning unkind.

Paragraph 2

The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. The high downs which invited them from almost every window of the cottage to seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on their summits, were a happy alternative when the dirt of the valleys beneath shut up their superior beauties; and towards one of these hills did Marianne and Margaret one memorable morning direct their steps, attracted by the partial sunshine of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear the confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding days had occasioned. The weather was not tempting enough to draw the two others from their pencil and their book, in spite of Marianne’s declaration that the day would be lastingly fair, and that every threatening cloud would be drawn off from their hills; and the two girls set off together.

Which is which?

Which passage do you think appears in Jane Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility?

Here is a buffer line of placeholder text to shield you from the answer until you are ready to scroll down and see it.

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Here’s the answer

It’s paragraph 2. It’s the passage that describes Marianne and Margaret setting off on that fateful walk where Mr. Willoughby makes his dramatic appearance.

What follows is a meandering path of thoughts on AI and writing.

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What is the point of this?

First, I apologize for this game. It is in bad taste. It’s also unfair. I’m asking you to choose between two paragraphs, not two novels or two bodies of work. My narrow lens sees only the line level.

Second, a confession.

When I prompted ChatGPT, I asked it to give me several varying passages that I could choose from. I took what I thought were the most convincing bits and cobbled together the fake option that appears above.

I did this to make it harder. AI couldn’t match Jane Austen in one try. I gave it (maybe?) a helping hand because I didn’t think any of the paragraphs were convincing enough on their own.

Which is good.

AI couldn’t nail Austen in five seconds or less.

But let’s say a writer asks AI for a draft and then massages, nips, and powders it into something more appealing and publishes it? What do you call that? It’s not their original work, although they had a hand in shaping it.

Maybe you immediately recognized the authentic Austen passage. Good job! But what if I’d told you the other passage was written by Mimi Matthews or Julie Klassen (two successful novelists in the Regency romance genre)? Would you have believed me?

If AI can convincingly imitate a published contemporary author. Then what?

Copyright. Decency. Truth. If AI undermines these, then who will preserve them?

Also, what’s the point of going through the torture of writing fiction if AI can do it better and quicker?

Do we have the willpower to pause and think about where we’re headed?

Here’s one of the best articles I’ve read about the realities and implications of outsourcing to AI.

The author,

Grant Martsolf

, concludes:

ChatGPT is exceedingly tempting, offering the promise of limitless knowledge. You may begin by using it for small, seemingly insignificant tasks, but over time, you start relying on it for increasingly meaningful ones. Before you realize it, you’ve surrendered core human capabilities—and become fully dependent. There’s no going back.

This is not a slippery slope fallacy. This is something that we need to pause and consider.

When we outsource our writing craft to AI, are we willing to let those craft skills atrophy within us, not only as individuals but as a collective? What do we gain in exchange for that loss, and is it worth it?

Machines do my laundry, and they always have

One night, over dinner, my husband and I were talking to our boys, and the conversation came around to laundry, and I told my kids, “I’ve never done laundry without the help of a machine.” Sure, I’ve cleaned single articles of clothing by hand, but I’ve never attempted even one full load without my machines.

If our washer and dryer broke or we lost electricity, I’d manage, but only as a temporary fix. If I had to eliminate my machines for good—and the soaps that go with them—then I’d have to trot down the cul-de-sac to ask my 80-year-old neighbor, Rose, to teach me of her ways. I don’t know how to do common-sense, everyday tasks like laundry without machines and machine-made products, and I don’t personally know many people who could teach me how.

The use-it-or-lose-it rule proves true. What am I willing to lose for the sake of convenience?

Am I getting duped?

Do you remember the first time you engaged with someone online only to discover that person was a bot? For me, it was a customer service chatbot. I thought Tim was real until he could no longer handle me and supplied a handful of helpdesk links that he hoped would resolve my issue and then asked me slap a star rating on our conversation. I’d treated him with such courtesy. I felt so stupid.

I like how

Kendra Jernejcic

phrased it in a recent article:

AI has made me an internet cynic. […] I hate that I can’t ever truly know whether the content I am consuming was created by a real person, and this not-knowing has taken a lot of the shine off of the content I am interacting with. I’m not sure what to do with this realization.

Me either.

Rumors are always circulating that certain big-name authors don’t actually write their books but hire ghostwriters to drudge through the drafts. Using AI to draft is the next logical rung on the ladder—going up or down? Your call.

It does taste bitter, though, doesn’t it? Another disillusionment to toss on the pile.

Wanted: human flaws

I remember when, back in the 2010s, technology all of a sudden made it easy for the average person to turn their black-and-white Xeroxed flyer or brochure into a pro-looking glossy. And it was so easy. Now, our wedding albums look like magazine photo shoots. We can edit personal photos with a few taps, making a quick stop at the taco truck seem like a zesty adventure.

At first, we were so excited by the new tools at our disposal that we wanted everything to look professional. Because we could. Bring on the stock photos!

But we tired of it. Too staged. Cheesy.

Then, we wanted everything to look candid but branded. Filters, angles, and tuning. Real life, just better.

Again, we tired of it. After a while, everyone and everything started to look the same.

AI has removed the necessity of getting people together for a photo at all. Want a picture of friends eating out? Here you go!

I’m at the point where none of that catches my eye as much as something like this:

Courtesy of the Watson family analog archives, timestamped Jun. 4, 1999

Not all that long ago, writers strove to polish and prune their prose until it felt frictionless and smooth as liquid foundation. Make it easy to read. Crystal clear. Scannable. Personable. Emotional.

It took work for a human to do this, and the results felt impressive.

But now, AI can do it in seconds. Or, at least, AI gets us 80 percent of the way there.

Beautiful copy abounds, and we’re no longer impressed. Saturation point reached.

Now, I find myself increasingly engaged with and impressed by essays and fiction that resemble my janky vintage snapshot. Words that the writer has assembled with care but that also bear the “imperfections,” the marks of their maker.

When I read a sentence that Grammarly would underline in several colors, I perk up. Here, I say to myself, might be an unfiltered thought. I don’t necessarily want typos, but I do want to sense the human soul that birthed the ideas, a distinctive person unlike any other and independent of any algorithm.

Well, this article has gone on long enough.

Now, I must know. What do you think?

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Before you go—a snapshot, a scripture, and a survey.

The actual sign on the counter at my local ice cream parlor. Makes me laugh every time.

I the LORD speak the truth; I declare what is right. –Isaiah 45:19

I’ll leave you with one irresistible indulgence—for Janeites.

Your devoted,

Michelle

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