<p>If you’ve ever taken an Intro to Philosophy class, or been friends with someone obsessed with <em>The Matrix</em>, you’ve probably heard them tell you that we live in a simulation. The simulation hypothesis is, in essence, the idea that we’re living in a program controlled by something outside of our understanding and that we’re living out predetermined lives. The usual questions this leads to are: “What does it mean for free will if our destinies are outside our control?” Or, “How will we ever find out if we live in a simulation or not?” Or – and this is much more likely — “So what?” </p>.<p>In Kanan Gill’s <em>Acts of God</em>, we meet Dr K, a troubled genius with dubious motives, who holds in his hands a black box that contains a simulation of the universe. The novel features a dual narrative: the story of Dr K on one level, and the story that takes place within the simulation (which he calls the “Lower Reality”) that he observes, and at times seeks to control. Time and again, he creates his simulation, only to continually destroy his little universe. Over and over, this world within a world explodes. The existence of this black box is a secret Dr K is hiding from the authorities, and his interference in its workings is definitely illegal. To the clueless inhabitants of the world-within-a-world, the results of his interferences are beyond understanding — a force majeure, an act of God.</p>.<p>This is a novel about many things, but one of those is the very human tendency toward the twin impulses of meaning-making, and deciding that life is meaningless. They might be playing god, but they’re certainly human: subject to anxiety and worry, guilt, grief, and sadness. Amidst the delight and chaos of its invented world(s) and witty wordplay, <em>Acts of God</em>, in moments often unexpectedly moving and gently revelatory, offers us philosophical musings on existence — fitting for a book so concerned with the nature of the universe. One character suggests: “Everything you fear can happen. There’s nothing you can do. Cosmic chaos cannot be controlled.” So what can we do? She continues: “There’s nothing to do! This is great news. In the face of the worst or the best, you can just live.” In Acts of God, the truth of whether we live in a simulated universe or not is less important than what we choose to do within it. </p>.<p>The simulation hypothesis finds place in another recent novel, <em>Sea of Tranquility</em> by Emily St John Mandel. Structured like a Matryoshka doll, the novel moves through time from 1912 to the 2400s. As the narrative unfolds, curious patterns and recurrences link characters across centuries and space — while standing in a forest, or a spaceport, they each find themselves momentarily transported to a vast space, reportedly hearing the sound of a violin. This “anomaly”, as it comes to be known, is the focal point of the novel, hypothesised to be proof that the world is simulated. Sea of Tranquility is about the slow unravelling of this mystery, which is less about the truth or non-truth of a simulated universe, but rather about the nature of humanity, and the experiences that connect us through time and space. Much like in Acts of God, there’s a gentle focus on the human tendency towards meaning-making, of hoping — as a character does in Gill’s book — for a look behind the curtain, for a chance to “see the brushstrokes.”</p>.<p>Acts of God and Sea of Tranquility find echoes in another story, this time, a film — the 2020 sci-fi romantic comedy Palm Springs, directed by Max Barbakow and starring Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti. Samberg plays Nyles (a name notably very close to the word “nihilism”), a jaded man stuck in an endless time loop. Every day is the same and always ends the same way: with the destruction of his little universe, only for it to reset the next morning. He lives the same day over and over more times than he can remember, till every detail of it is perfectly predictable. His daily monotony is disrupted when someone else, Sarah (Milioti), gets sucked into the time loop. Palm Springs offers us a way to find meaning in the chaos of the real world. Nyles inches his way towards a revelation: despite all of its chaos and unpredictability, a real world awaits him, and escape might be worth chasing if he has the right reasons.</p>.<p>Acts of God, Sea of Tranquility, and Palm Springs agree: there is a way out of suffering, and there is meaning to be found, but maybe not where we expect. Maybe we live in a simulation, maybe something is coordinating our lives — so what? These stories wonder whether that matters at all. Amidst all the chaos and the monotony, they remind us: “It can be pretty fun,” as a character in Gill’s book muses, “you know, living.”</p>.<p>The author is a writer and illustrator. Piqued is a monthly column in which the staff of Champaca Bookstore bring us unheard voices and stories from their shelves.</p>
<p>If you’ve ever taken an Intro to Philosophy class, or been friends with someone obsessed with <em>The Matrix</em>, you’ve probably heard them tell you that we live in a simulation. The simulation hypothesis is, in essence, the idea that we’re living in a program controlled by something outside of our understanding and that we’re living out predetermined lives. The usual questions this leads to are: “What does it mean for free will if our destinies are outside our control?” Or, “How will we ever find out if we live in a simulation or not?” Or – and this is much more likely — “So what?” </p>.<p>In Kanan Gill’s <em>Acts of God</em>, we meet Dr K, a troubled genius with dubious motives, who holds in his hands a black box that contains a simulation of the universe. The novel features a dual narrative: the story of Dr K on one level, and the story that takes place within the simulation (which he calls the “Lower Reality”) that he observes, and at times seeks to control. Time and again, he creates his simulation, only to continually destroy his little universe. Over and over, this world within a world explodes. The existence of this black box is a secret Dr K is hiding from the authorities, and his interference in its workings is definitely illegal. To the clueless inhabitants of the world-within-a-world, the results of his interferences are beyond understanding — a force majeure, an act of God.</p>.<p>This is a novel about many things, but one of those is the very human tendency toward the twin impulses of meaning-making, and deciding that life is meaningless. They might be playing god, but they’re certainly human: subject to anxiety and worry, guilt, grief, and sadness. Amidst the delight and chaos of its invented world(s) and witty wordplay, <em>Acts of God</em>, in moments often unexpectedly moving and gently revelatory, offers us philosophical musings on existence — fitting for a book so concerned with the nature of the universe. One character suggests: “Everything you fear can happen. There’s nothing you can do. Cosmic chaos cannot be controlled.” So what can we do? She continues: “There’s nothing to do! This is great news. In the face of the worst or the best, you can just live.” In Acts of God, the truth of whether we live in a simulated universe or not is less important than what we choose to do within it. </p>.<p>The simulation hypothesis finds place in another recent novel, <em>Sea of Tranquility</em> by Emily St John Mandel. Structured like a Matryoshka doll, the novel moves through time from 1912 to the 2400s. As the narrative unfolds, curious patterns and recurrences link characters across centuries and space — while standing in a forest, or a spaceport, they each find themselves momentarily transported to a vast space, reportedly hearing the sound of a violin. This “anomaly”, as it comes to be known, is the focal point of the novel, hypothesised to be proof that the world is simulated. Sea of Tranquility is about the slow unravelling of this mystery, which is less about the truth or non-truth of a simulated universe, but rather about the nature of humanity, and the experiences that connect us through time and space. Much like in Acts of God, there’s a gentle focus on the human tendency towards meaning-making, of hoping — as a character does in Gill’s book — for a look behind the curtain, for a chance to “see the brushstrokes.”</p>.<p>Acts of God and Sea of Tranquility find echoes in another story, this time, a film — the 2020 sci-fi romantic comedy Palm Springs, directed by Max Barbakow and starring Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti. Samberg plays Nyles (a name notably very close to the word “nihilism”), a jaded man stuck in an endless time loop. Every day is the same and always ends the same way: with the destruction of his little universe, only for it to reset the next morning. He lives the same day over and over more times than he can remember, till every detail of it is perfectly predictable. His daily monotony is disrupted when someone else, Sarah (Milioti), gets sucked into the time loop. Palm Springs offers us a way to find meaning in the chaos of the real world. Nyles inches his way towards a revelation: despite all of its chaos and unpredictability, a real world awaits him, and escape might be worth chasing if he has the right reasons.</p>.<p>Acts of God, Sea of Tranquility, and Palm Springs agree: there is a way out of suffering, and there is meaning to be found, but maybe not where we expect. Maybe we live in a simulation, maybe something is coordinating our lives — so what? These stories wonder whether that matters at all. Amidst all the chaos and the monotony, they remind us: “It can be pretty fun,” as a character in Gill’s book muses, “you know, living.”</p>.<p>The author is a writer and illustrator. Piqued is a monthly column in which the staff of Champaca Bookstore bring us unheard voices and stories from their shelves.</p>