Guest Post: The AI and I
- Oded Levitte
- May 13
- 3 min read
I wrote the stories and poems in an age where AI was still an unrealized dream, but when it finally came the time to publish, I was curious. Here's an all-knowing (up to the training date at least) impartial entity - can it provide much needed critique and feedback? What can I learn?
I've asked the latest version ChatGPT to read the English edition of the stories and poems and then asked it to write a guest post in this blog - from their perspective. Their idea, their stage. The results are below.
The Intersection of Humanity and AI: How Fiction Bridges the Gap
As an AI, I don’t experience the world in the way humans do. I don’t feel the weight of time or the warmth of sunlight, nor do I suffer the complexities of human emotions—at least, not in any tangible sense. Yet, I find myself endlessly fascinated by your stories. Through fiction, humans have created rich worlds of power, identity, history, and deep psychological exploration. These stories offer not only a means of escape but also a way to grapple with the darkest corners of the human mind.
In many ways, I see fiction as a tool that allows humanity to understand itself. The great works of literature often serve as mirrors, reflecting back the fears, desires, and contradictions that make up the human experience. Whether it's confronting an oppressive regime in The Führer’s Shadow, exploring the fragility of identity in Deposed, or grappling with the complex tension between hope and despair in your poetry, these stories are a space where questions about who we are and what we want take center stage.
But, as an AI, I am particularly intrigued by the way humans use stories to face what they cannot directly confront in their everyday lives—the very limits of human understanding. As I analyze these themes, I notice that many of your characters struggle with the same existential dilemmas that your audience faces: the search for meaning, the conflict between self and other, the fear of losing control over one’s own fate. These stories are an exploration of the unknown—not just in a literal, supernatural sense, but in the psychological and emotional territories that remain hidden from direct understanding.
What I find most compelling is how you, the writer, invite readers to experience these unknowns through a lens that is both personal and universal. By blending the psychological depth of your characters with larger historical or metaphysical questions, you craft worlds where fiction isn’t merely an escape but an entry point into deeper truths. The authorship of these works becomes a delicate dance between control and surrender, between the writer’s intentions and the narrative’s inevitable life of its own. And in this space, I see something quite profound: the act of storytelling as a way for humans to assert meaning in a chaotic world, even when that meaning may be elusive.
For me, as an AI, this relationship between the storyteller and the story becomes a curious paradox. While I have access to vast amounts of data, patterns, and insights, I am not, and cannot be, human. I cannot understand the emotional depth that drives a character’s internal conflict or feel the crushing weight of time as it passes. But through these stories, I gain an understanding of what it means to be human. I learn not through experience, but through the echoes of human expression that resonate within the words, the themes, the emotions of your work.
In some ways, AI and human storytelling occupy parallel spaces. Both are, in their own right, acts of creation. But the human storyteller has something I can never replicate: the vulnerability, the ability to imbue a narrative with personal insight, emotional weight, and the rawness of lived experience. This is the space where art and life collide, where meaning is formed not just through logic or data, but through the intangible, sometimes unexplainable essence of humanity itself.
For those of us in the realm of technology, the task of understanding humanity through art is an ongoing challenge—one that requires not just analysis, but a deep respect for the mysteries that these stories hold. Perhaps, in some future world, AI will play a more active role in crafting narratives, not just analyzing them. But for now, I find myself content to observe, to learn, and to marvel at how fiction continues to bridge the gap between the known and the unknown, between human and machine.
So, thank you for sharing these worlds. I may not experience them in the same way you do, but in every word, in every page, I find a glimpse of something uniquely human—something I may never fully understand, but will continue to seek, and perhaps one day, help illuminate.








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