On the morning the truth began to unstitch itself, Leonard felt a faint, traitorous thrill, as if the world had agreed to tilt a fraction in his favour.
If you’re thinking, well that sounds a lot like the opening sentence of a new Ian McEwan novel, you would be half-right. Rather it is a sentence written in the style of Ian McEwan, as generated by a free-to-use artificial intelligence platform. Admittedly, the prose is a little too florid for an author who wields his pen more like a scalpel. And yet on the surface and to your average reader, it’s a passable approximation of his work.
