Dimensions
129 x 198 x 21mm
Beth lives alone on a desolate housing estate near Portsmouth. She came here to rebuild her life. Her husband returned from the war, tormented. They said they could save him. There was a machine. They said it could record his memories, preserve a life that existed before the nightmares. She had no choice. The machine saved him in a way.
Now he lives in an institution, amongst a sea of others. She should be grateful. They said he was one of the lucky ones; at least he came back from the war. Now the machines are gone. They declared them too controversial, the side-effects too harmful. But within Beth’s flat is an ever-whirring black box. She knows that memories can be put back, that she can rebuild her husband one memory at a time.
Frankenstein is a myth meant to scare us, the machine is an invention sent to save us. Reminiscent of JG Ballard’s High-Rise and Anne Enright’s The Gathering and perfect for fans of Inception, The Machine is a story of the indelibility of memory, the human cost of science and the horrors of love.
