I read most of “Playground” in a rattly old plane as it shook and juddered over the Atlantic and then the vast emptiness of Russia before landing in New Delhi. I finished the book in a crowded airport, in tears and in awe of what Richard Powers has achieved.
The novel weaves together an exploration of friendship and the games people play with one another, a hypnotic love letter to the ocean, and a deep meditation on technology and meaning. Like memory itself, the story refuses to follow straight lines. Instead, it spirals and circles, guided by a narrator whose version of events becomes increasingly complex and layered as the story unfolds.
At its heart are four people – Todd, Rafi, Ina, and Evie. Todd and Rafi both call Chicago home, but they might as well be from different planets. Todd is wealthy, white, and obsessed with computers; Rafi is poor, African American, and a precocious reader. What bridges their worlds is a shared love of games – chess, Go, and eventually the intricate game of their own peculiar friendship. When they meet Ina in college, their duo becomes a trio, and their lives become permanently entangled in ways that echo across decades.
In contrast stands Evie – a scientist and pioneering diver whose sections contain the book’s most luminous writing. Through her eyes, we discover coral reefs, sunken ships, and manta rays in passages that evoke pure wonder about the ocean’s depths. While others build virtual worlds, Evie explores an actual one, until all four lives ultimately converge on the Pacific island of Makatea – a place strip-mined for phosphate in the 20th century and slowly being reclaimed by jungle. The island stands as a testament to both human intervention and nature’s resilience.
Threading through these human stories runs the history of modern technology and machine learning, embodied in Todd’s journey. He transforms his obsession with computers and gaming into a wildly successful social platform that crosses Reddit with Facebook. But as his success peaks, tragedy strikes – a debilitating neurological disease that leads him to narrate his story to an AI assistant before memory fails. This creates layers of uncertainty about perception and reality that build toward a wonderful (and slightly puzzling) final act that questions what it means to be alive and how technology might reshape our understanding of consciousness and truth.
As a technologist, I found “Playground” to be a powerful lens for examining both my relationship with technology and my feelings about the natural world as we venture deeper into the Anthropocene. The book doesn’t choose sides. Instead, it shows us how the awe inspired by a coral reef and the possibilities of artificial intelligence can coexist, each raising questions about consciousness and reality that the other helps us explore.
There’s still so much to process in this book. Like the games its characters play, each move reveals new possibilities, new uncertainties to consider. And I’m nowhere near done processing.
