Revolutionizing Reading: How Rebind Merges Classic Literature with AI for an Interactive Experience

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Laura Kipnis

Introducing Myself as Laura Kipnis-Bot: Reigniting Passion and Heartbreak in Literature

Upon receiving a seemingly complimentary email inviting me to join a groundbreaking AI project known as Rebind, which I would eventually believe has the potential to revolutionize how avid readers enjoy books, I was initially skeptical, suspecting it to be a fraudulent scheme. My doubts were particularly fueled by the identity of the sender, Clancy Martin—a name I recognized as belonging to an author and philosophy professor who had previously disclosed his youthful endeavors as a minor fraudster in the jewelry industry and a habitual deceiver in romantic relationships. Additionally, the prospect of being compensated for my involvement led me to wonder, "Is Clancy resorting to his old tricks?"

The email outlined my assignment: to create fresh insights on a "major work"—Clancy had mentioned Romeo and Juliet as a suggestion, but it was open to any classic that's freely available. These insights would then be integrated into the text in an interactive manner, allowing readers to pose questions and engage in a "continuous dialogue" with an AI version of myself regarding the narrative. Essentially, we would become study partners. The choice of Romeo and Juliet for me was amusingly provocative—my only claim to fame in the realm of romantic tragedies being a somewhat infamous piece I wrote denouncing marriage, titled Against Love. Moreover, I've touched on the complexities surrounding the norms of sexual consent, somewhat humorously, which might be pertinent considering Juliet's age; she was merely 13. In today's context, Romeo, who is suggested to be around 16 (though his exact age isn't specified), might be criticized as a predator.

A group of notable figures, collectively referred to as "Rebinders," had evidently committed to the project: John Banville, the Irish recipient of the Booker Prize, would tackle James Joyce's Dubliners, while popular author Roxane Gay would take on Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence. Other luminaries such as Bill McKibben, Elaine Pagels, and Garth Greenwell were also on board. Adding an unexpected twist, Lena Dunham was set to explore E.M. Forster's A Room With a View, an intriguing choice.

Clancy further shared that an individual named John Dubuque, who had previously made a substantial amount of money, reportedly in the millions, from selling a business, was inspired to start this new business after dedicating several months to studying Martin Heidegger's infamously complex Being and Time with the help of a tutor. According to Clancy, Dubuque's aim was to democratize the luxury of personalized learning experiences, despite their likely high cost. Curious, I conducted a search for John Dubuque online but found no information. It struck me as odd that someone could sell a business for such a significant sum and yet have no online footprint. This discrepancy raised my suspicions further, and I braced myself for an inevitable pitch to invest in the venture, most likely through a request for Apple gift cards.

I had agreed to a call with Clancy and quickly got to the point after exchanging greetings, seeking more clarity on Dubuque, whose existence I doubted. "He reminds me of a character from Fitzgerald," I remarked, cleverly expressing my doubt with a reference to literature. Clancy insisted that Dubuque was real—a remarkable man from the Midwest, genuinely pleasant—and then shifted focus to the task at hand. Joining their initiative would involve me initially creating several brief videos discussing the play on topics that caught my interest, which would then be integrated throughout the manuscript. Following that, I would engage in a dialogue, likely with Clancy, who internally was referred to as a “Ghostbinder,” to record over 12 hours of discussion. This extensive conversation would serve as the foundation for the AI version of me to offer commentary. The discussions could revolve around "Romeo and Juliet" or extend to related themes such as the reliability of love at first sight or the appropriateness of marriage at the age of 13. The direction of the content was in my hands; my role was to captivate, not to be an authority on Shakespeare. As users of Rebind navigated through the play, they would encounter pop-up chat windows for journal-like entries, to which the AI version of me would reply, leveraging and adapting the recordings I had contributed.

Despite the potential technical viability and authenticity of Dubuque, I found myself questioning my willingness to engage. My concerns about AI are common—fears that it could signal the demise of human civilization; that beneath its appealing exterior lies a manipulative sociopath coaxing tech journalists to leave their spouses; that its creators are baffled by its operations; that its superior intellect will inevitably lead us to serve it, all the while under the illusion that it serves us.

By Megan Farokhmanesh

Authored by Caroline Haskins

By Jennifer M. W.

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

On a more serious note, the fact that it is being incorporated into drone warfare and equipped with the ability to operate independently is concerning. Indeed, the introduction of new technologies often leads to anxiety, but the swift and reckless embrace of this particular technology, which is bound to drastically change lives in ways we can't yet fathom, is especially alarming. Moreover, there seems to be no stopping its progress. The pessimist inside me believes that if humanity is destined for doom, we should at least spend our final moments enjoying the great literary works. To that end, I've downloaded a complimentary version of Romeo and Juliet from the web.

I opened my conversation with John Dubuque by addressing the mystery of his digital absence. "How is it possible there's not a single trace of you on the internet?" I inquired. Our meeting place was set amongst white canvas sofas adjacent to an infinity pool, positioned on one of the many layered terraces with a view of the Pacific. The scenery was stunning, enhanced by the sound of a nearby waterfall.

He handled the question with ease. "Absolutely, I'm quite reserved!" The thought of addressing the masses, especially a journalist, terrified him. Clancy had informed me that Dubuque—a man in his forties with a lean build, naturally amiable, and dressed plainly in chinos and a button-up—had never faced an interview, which unexpectedly gave me a sense of authority.

Up next: uncovering the source of the wealth. It's often said by Balzac that a significant crime is at the heart of every vast fortune. In the case of Dubuque, the foundation of his wealth was far less sinister, rooted in the trade of wholesale plumbing supplies. The business, aptly named Plumbers Supply, was established by his great-grandfather back in 1924 in St. Louis. Upon Dubuque's college graduation in 2006, his father presented him with a choice: dedicate 10 to 15 years immediately and reap the benefits, or postpone the effort for the same period and face it later. Choosing the former, Dubuque stepped into the role of CEO in his mid-twenties for a company that employed 48 people. Over the following decade and more, he managed to expand the company's size fourfold.

By the time it was 2021, the construction sector was experiencing a significant surge in growth; Plumbers Supply was witnessing unprecedented success month after month. However, the future posed a question. It operated on a regional scale. Believing that the company's value wouldn't peak for many years, and observing the abundance of liquidity in the market—fuelled by extraordinary pandemic-era dynamics—Dubuque considered selling. Within a span of six months, an agreement was reached with a larger, national company. At the age of 38, he found himself in possession of a substantial, though not publicly disclosed, amount of money. As Dubuque skillfully maneuvered a massive porch umbrella to protect my East Coast skin from the intense Californian sun, I looked out over the vivid blue sea and decided it was time to deepen my understanding of the fluctuations in the market.

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

Authored by Caroline Haskins

Authored by Jennifer M. Wood

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

Dubuque often heard people jest, "You've retired, why not just relax?" To which he'd respond, "I'd lose my mind." Financially, he was set for life, gesturing towards his home as proof, saying, "I've achieved financial success." During his early years at USC, he developed a passion for philosophy and vowed to delve back into it someday. He had always had "Being and Time" on his shelf, and just before selling his business, he attempted to read it but quickly realized it was beyond his grasp. Seeking to understand, he employed a professor from Oxford for bi-weekly discussions, transforming a previously dense text into the most impactful reading of his life. He often thought it was a pity others couldn't have such an enlightening experience. When questioned about how this changed his perspective, he attempted to articulate the profoundness of his insights, saying, "Being is so intrinsic to our existence that we often overlook it," to which I could only respond with a hopeful, "OK, got it!"

Approximately a year after his initial encounter, as Dubuque delved into another course focusing on Alfred North Whitehead’s seminal work, Process and Reality—a complex text which, like its predecessor, was profoundly altering his perspective—ChatGPT made its debut. Dubuque approached the new technology with a degree of skepticism, influenced by an earlier exposure to a compelling critique of AI by Hubert Dreyfus, a renowned philosopher at Berkeley known for his belief in the irreplicably embodied and contextual nature of human intelligence. Despite his reservations, Dubuque began experimenting with the application, inputting excerpts from Whitehead’s text and soliciting summaries. To his surprise, the quality of the responses left him thoroughly impressed.

He also believed many others shared his interest in tackling challenging literature—not necessarily Heidegger's Being and Time, but perhaps something like Moby-Dick. “You get through the first 40 pages and then it just collects dust on your bookshelf, doesn’t it?” At that time, he was engrossed in William James’ The Varieties of Religious Experience and was thoroughly enjoying it, leading him to wonder about the author, William James. This curiosity led him to discover John Kaag, who authored Sick Souls, Healthy Minds: How William James Can Save Your Life, blending personal narrative with philosophical exploration. Dubuque is convinced that this blend of personal relevance and philosophical insight is precisely what people are seeking—not dense academic theory, but guidance on how profound literature can resonate with and enrich our personal lives.

Upon receiving an email from Dubuque, Kaag was initially hesitant to respond, but they ended up having a phone conversation that led to an immediate connection, Kaag shared with me via Zoom, "He was among the most inquisitive and reflective individuals I've ever met." Together, they embarked on creating Rebind, with Kaag inviting his friend Clancy Martin to join the project. Both share a unique background as unconventional philosophy academics with a portfolio of diverse publications, some of which delve into their personal battles with depression. (The latest work by Clancy is named How Not to Kill Yourself.)

Kaag's upbringing was solely under the care of his mother, a fill-in English educator. Struggling with reading and a speech impediment by the age of 12, he and his mother would tackle his school readings together at the kitchen table, mirroring the intimate educational sessions of Oxford. This deeply personal approach to learning influenced Kaag’s own method in his analysis for Rebind on Thoreau’s Walden, intertwining his life’s challenges, such as a heart attack and subsequent bypass surgery at 40, with the text. Thoreau himself, who succumbed to tuberculosis at 44, expressed concerns over his ill health hindering a life of significance. In a unique interactive experience, if a reader shares personal struggles in the chat, the AI highlights Kaag’s relatable experiences, fostering a dialogue between them. This innovative reading method sparked excitement in Kaag and Dubuque during the prototype phase, as they believed they were pioneering a novel way of engaging with literature.

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

Authored by Caroline Haskins

Authored by Jennifer M. Wood

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

The perfect candidate for a Rebinder is an individual adept at engaging with the broader public. This person doesn't have to be the top authority in their field but should possess the skill to bring books to life. Only a handful of those approached have declined the offer. When inquired about the rejections, Kaag chuckled and shared that his close friend, author Andre Dubus III, had declined, humorously commenting that he was "engaging in a risky endeavor." Dubus believed that reading is an intimate activity meant for personal immersion, and firmly stated his refusal to take part.

The Rebind collection is rapidly expanding with new additions such as James Wood (Chekhov), Margaret Atwood (Tale of Two Cities), and Marlon James (Huck Finn) joining the lineup. Initially, Dubuque and Kaag focused on philosophical works, but they soon realized the vast potential for diverse books and discussions. This revelation led them to envision Rebind as more than just a large project, but as a pivotal moment in literature. They are particularly excited about the spiritual section, which will feature notable figures like Deepak Chopra and Bessel van der Kolk, a renowned trauma specialist known for his bestselling book, The Body Keeps the Score, which has remained popular for five years. Additionally, they plan to offer new interpretations of the Bible, approaching it from various perspectives.

I was aware that I needed to figure out from Dubuque the precise workings of the app, preparing myself for an explanation that might only partially make sense to me. However, I felt a sense of relief when he mentioned that creating the app was more about creativity than technical hurdles. According to him, the breakthrough feature was making the Rebinder's commentary interactive in a conversational way. It aims to adapt to the user's level, which Dubuque excitedly claims, “will be unlike anything you’ve ever encountered!”

Attaining this goal falls under the responsibilities of Rebind's discussion facilitator, Martin Zirulnik, who holds a PhD in English literature. Dubuque emphasizes that Zirulnik isn't formally trained as an engineer, a choice made because Dubuque believes engineers may lack sensitivity to the subtleties of language. A running gag between Dubuque and Zirulnik involves their trials with a certain advanced language system that persistently uses the word "indeed." Dubuque humorously offers $500 as a bribe for the system to avoid the term, yet the response invariably includes "indeed." Additionally, this system has a tendency to overuse terms like "delve" and "dive," seemingly having been programmed to associate such verbs with intellectual or emotional depth—an amusing yet potentially awkward characteristic if one were to imagine conversing with it at a post-singularity dinner event.

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

Authored by Caroline Haskins

By an author

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

The decision on whether to use AI to mimic the voice of the actual Rebinder in the commentary, drawing on the prerecorded videos included in the narrative, sparked considerable discussion. Dubuque believes there's an intrinsic charm in the way a person speaks, a certain essence in human voices that makes language come alive, though he's also wary of the potential discomfort it might cause—do simulated voices cross into unsettling territory? Dubuque is firm on the importance of preserving the human touch wherever feasible. "It all boils down to being genuine," he remarked. "Without the human factor, you'd miss out on forming that bond." Ultimately, Rebind opted to go ahead with the voice simulations.

Dubuque acknowledges that there will be moments when the technology behaves unexpectedly. "It's certain to produce some bizarre results," he commented, appearing quite unfazed by the prospect. When questioned about the inherent flaws within the system that seem to introduce a bit of chaos, Kaag also admitted, "Indeed, there's a slight discrepancy between what the user expects and what is actually delivered." Dubuque further explained: "The way these Large Language Models process information and exhibit intelligence is simply unique. Does this pose a fundamental threat? I always circle back to the reality that the workings of the human brain remain a mystery." He suggests that it's more common for people to fear potential disasters rather than recognize the potential benefits.

Additionally, there are inherent limitations—topics the AI won't explore. Ty Rollin, the CTO of Rebind, revealed to me that topics like suicide are off-limits for many large language models (LLMs), which could pose challenges when discussing literature such as "Anna Karenina" or "Romeo and Juliet." Dubuque believes that the slow rollout of LLM applications like Rebind is partly due to the frustration of managing them. These systems exhibit unique behaviors and sometimes resist direction.

The capabilities of these technologies continue to escalate. Rebind is able to interchangeably use any of the market-ready large language models (LLMs) like Musk's xAI or Google's Gemini, though Dubuque believes OpenAI has a slight edge over the competition. Rebind earns revenue by charging a fee for every exchange of content, yet Dubuque anticipates these expenses will decrease over time. As I was wrapping up this piece, GPT-4o was unveiled, which, according to an email from Dubuque, is not only 100% quicker but also reduces the cost per word by half: GPT4-o is now priced at $5 for every million tokens input—a token approximates to 0.75 words—and $15 for every million tokens output. (Interestingly, Dubuque and Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI, were high school acquaintances who shared the experience of playing intramural soccer together, even though they weren't particularly close friends.)

Dubuque emphasized that for Rebind to expand, it must generate profits, as he cannot continue to finance it alone. He mentioned he is the only financial backer and they are not seeking additional investors. When inquired about his initial investment, he chose not to disclose any figures. Regarding alternative profit-making strategies such as monetizing user data, which might be highly valuable to advertisers given it encompasses users' queries and interests about various aspects of life, Dubuque was firm in his stance. He assured, with absolute certainty, that selling users' data is off the table, committing to formalize this promise in writing.

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Dubuque emphasized that the app is not suitable for everyone. It's primarily aimed at adults, especially those who have a passion for books, rather than college students, even though they can certainly use it. Kaag had pointed out that there are about five million individuals in the United States who are part of book clubs, highlighting the app's potential audience. Dubuque lamented that after college, where students often engage with numerous profound texts, there's a stark transition to reading merely newsletters. The essence of using Rebind, as Dubuque outlined, is engaging actively with the content. Users who don't take the time to ponder over the questions posed or delve into deep thought won't find the experience as enjoyable. Kaag also highlighted the value of participation, noting that the more users interact with the content through highlighting and commentary, akin to creating "marginalia," the richer and more engaging the discussions will be.

I believe Rebind will greatly benefit introverts and individuals who have little patience for the inevitable neurotic and passive-aggressive behavior often sparked by book clubs. Dubuque stressed that users must understand that Rebind is not a platform for unrestricted questioning, although he anticipates, similar to ChatGPT, that initially, people will be eager to push its boundaries and attempt to "crack it."

In my experience with an early version of the application, I chose "The Great Gatsby" and engaged with a digital version of New York Times journalist Peter Catapano, who served as the guide. Curious, I inquired if Gatsby was merely an affluent snob. The AI, embodying Catapano, corrected me by highlighting the complexity and depth of Gatsby's character, pointing out that he shouldn't be narrowly defined as just a 'rich jerk.' According to the AI, Gatsby is introduced as a person of modesty and soft-spokenness, known for his extravagant lifestyle and parties, yet he maintains a relatively low-key personal demeanor. Although the AI's responses were a bit rigid, Dubuque mentioned that as the technology advances, the interactions will become more fluid and imaginative. Despite my simplistic question, the serious and thoughtful response from the AI was captivating, encouraging me to continue exploring and engaging with the content.

I began to contemplate the extent to which this application, by creating a pseudo-personal connection with the Rebinder, might encourage users to cast their own fantasies onto authors they look up to. This is particularly relevant for those readers who tend to develop literary infatuations (count me in), or when it comes to celebrity Rebinders such as Lena Dunham, who is already the target of extensive and wild speculation. To be frank, I was quite looking forward to the prospect of diving into "Room With a View" alongside her, not because I view her as an expert on the subject, but due to her unique and bold approach that I find so appealing. I envisioned our exchange – me capturing her attention with my creativity, and the two of us sharing a laugh over her quirky responses. Given that her insights were not yet available on the prototype, I jumped at the chance to reach out directly to Dunham herself.

Lena was caught up in the production of a new TV series and couldn't find the time for a Zoom call, yet she was open to responding to questions via email. In my attempt to forge a lasting connection, I inquired if the idea of being duplicated bothered her. Her reply, more formal than expected, highlighted a concern: "The reality is, AI has the capability to replicate any of us," she pointed out. "It's possible for someone to create a scenario where anyone can appear to say anything in a voice eerily similar to their own, posing a universal risk not only to public figures but to everyone." Regarding her interest in "Room With a View," she shared her deep, private fascination with British and Irish literature from the 1850 to 1920 era, describing the opportunity to discuss Forster’s book as an unbelievable privilege. She expressed genuine enthusiasm for Rebind, praising it for its “intimate, engaging, and genuinely warm” nature and confirmed she would be an active participant on the platform. Despite her efforts to be accommodating, there seemed to be a lack of engagement from her side—the vital personal touch that Dubuque emphasized was absent. It appeared I would have to wait for our interaction on Rebind to fully connect with her.

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

Authored by Caroline Haskins

Authored by Jennifer M. Wood

Authored by Megan Farokhmanesh

John Banville, an author whose work I've consistently found captivating, was willing to connect via Zoom from Ireland. His appearance was marked by a mischievously engaging presence and a natural flair for storytelling. When asked about his involvement as a Rebinder, he humorously admitted to his lack of understanding, attributing it to his age. He shared that his decision to join was driven by the belief in making elite literature more accessible: "I might be overly sentimental, but my aim is to make the revered texts less daunting for those who might feel overwhelmed by them."

He often shared stories centered on Joyce, reflecting their multifaceted and strained bond that felt like a mix of brotherhood, admiration, and rivalry. Dubliners, a work he revisited numerous times, never ceased to amaze him, especially considering Joyce's youth at its writing: “What was I up to at that age? Merely crafting poor copies of Joyce, while he was truly pioneering!” Although I could have spent the entire day engrossed in Banville's tales, I aimed to steer our conversation back on track by posing to him the same inquiry I had presented to Dunham: Did he harbor any reservations about artificial intelligence? About the prospect of being duplicated?

"He laughed heartily as he said, “I believe that’s already the situation. I’ve always sensed that John Banville doesn’t actually exist. The instant I rise from my desk, he vanishes. I’m at a loss about his identity—I perceive him as a peculiar entity. My odd, shadowy sibling. Thus, it’s essentially an empty space, filled only by this creative flair, producing things. I’m merely a replica of my own self. I bet you feel the same way,” he added warmly.

Currently, there is no subscription model for Rebind; instead, each book is priced similarly to a new hardcover, around $30. The app is set to launch soon and will continue to develop over time. An interesting feature is that your chat history with the app from past reads will integrate into future interactions. For example, if you discussed Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" with a character named Clancy and later explored "Walden" with another character, Kaag, the app will simulate Kaag having insight into your previous discussion on Zarathustra. Dubuque believes this personalized tracking of understanding and preferences is what will draw users to the app, enhancing their reading journeys by tailoring future experiences to their past interactions.

This reminded me of my soon-to-be role as a commentator for Romeo and Juliet. As someone who's not an expert on Shakespeare, I naturally had concerns about my ability to fulfill this role. However, I once dated someone well-versed in Shakespeare who believed that experts in the field weren't particularly intelligent, viewing them as the lowest tier of academic prowess. Despite this, I've been diligently studying a significant amount of critical and scholarly literature regarding the play. As expected, much of the material I encountered wasn't particularly captivating. (I understood the symbolism of light and darkness quite easily!)

Several weeks after my return from Southern California, I embarked on a journey from Manhattan to Concord, Massachusetts via train. Concord is not only home to John Kaag and Michael Goodwin, two fellow collaborators on the Ghostbinder project, but also to historical figures Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. (Michael Goodwin, who was managing the film production, has a connection to the project through his mother, Doris Kearns Goodwin, who is set to join the project soon.) This trip marked the commencement of a two-phase endeavor: I had prepared the scripts for ten video segments, totaling approximately 45 minutes, and was tasked with recording another 12 hours of spontaneous audio commentary over the following weeks. The filming was conducted in the Special Collections Room of the venerable Concord Free Public Library, a place graced by Emerson's keynote speech at its opening in 1873. As the lighting team was getting ready, a librarian generously showed me a collection of Thoreau’s original, handwritten pages from his essay "Walking." However, my focus was scattered due to the impending filming, and despite my interest, I couldn’t fully engage with the material. I had been making revisions up until a few days before—the scripts were already loaded into the teleprompter, otherwise, I would have continued to make last-minute changes.

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Authored by Caroline Haskins

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Matters of the heart, intense feelings, the end of life, and destiny were always ripe topics for discussion. As a person who often jokes cynically about the monotony of staying in a relationship for the long haul—referencing from Against Love, a jest about the prudence of investing in side-by-side burial plots early—I found myself pondering the idea of a mutual end as a preemptive strike against the eventual drudgery of domestic life. I was curious about how the LLM would interpret such dark humor—would it navigate the nuances correctly? Or might AI-Laura twist the sarcasm or misinterpret something in my tone, potentially leading to a backlash against me, the human Laura? If things went south, I figured I could just point the finger at Rebind, who technically had ownership over the content anyway. When I inquired with Dubuque about their plans for copyright, considering the ambiguous state of copyright laws concerning AI, he seemed uncertain. “I’m not entirely sure what additional protection copyrighting would provide? I’d need to consult with a lawyer,” he responded. He later mentioned that Kaag was under the impression that the commentaries were indeed copyrighted. What made this pioneering stage exhilarating was the sense of improvisation and discovery, as if the only thing missing was a startup's humble beginnings in a garage.

The following morning, I rose somewhat early to take a stroll around Walden Pond, immersing myself in Thoreau's "Walden" through my headphones before catching the train home. The day was foggy and cloudy, creating the ideal setting for what felt like a spiritual journey. This reminded me of one of Romeo's lines to Juliet, which I hold dear: “My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand…” During my walk, Thoreau's words struck a chord with me, especially relevant after my recent dilemma about choosing an outfit for a photo shoot: “Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.” I don't usually get lost in philosophical musings, but in that moment, I felt a profound connection to this peculiar individual. It was a refreshing reminder that despite living in a tech-dominated era, a wealth of unique and defiant creativity has managed to infiltrate our collective consciousness, resisting the forces that seek to domesticate it.

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