Tuesday, October 20, 2026

Review of The Book of Bots by James Patrick Kelly

James Patrick Kelly is one few remaining writers whose collections are published as an update, as in Here is what has been happening in JPK land since his last collection of previously uncollected stories a few years ago. As I don't read sf magazines or periodicals (nothing against them), the collections are critical for keeping me up to date. His 2026 The Book of Bots bucks the trend, however. A hybrid, it collects several recent stories which have yet to find a home in a JPK collection as well as several older stories, all around the theme of robots and robotic/artificial intelligence.

With echoes of Brian Aldiss’ “Supertoys Last All Summer Long”, “Itsy Bitsy Spider” kicks things off with the story of a middle-aged woman returning to her father’s house. A man she has a troubled relationship with, she discovers he has uploaded her memories into an android child. The conversations between the younger and older self, later expanded by the father, is fully human despite the science fiction conceit. It hones in on the value of history and memory with age, making for an effective, touching piece to open the collection. “Undone” is more science fantasy than science fiction, but I split hairs. A tribute to Cordwainer Smith and Alfred Bester, it is set in the far, far future and tells of a woman who escapes her enemies by traveling a couple million years into the future, only to discover she didn't truly escape. She is forced to settle down and start a family. The story contains backwards syntax, like listening to a cassette in rewind, along with a large dose of wacky sf.

The third story is a piece of Cold War Americana pierced by the uncanny: “10¹⁶ to 1?”. It's the 1950s and young Ray lives for superhero comic books. Playing near his Long Island home one day, he discovers an odd man in the woods, a man who seems to know the future. Ray's life twists sideways in the aftermath of their meeting, and through that transition Kelly gives readers a twisted piece of Golden Age America loosely reminiscent of Jeffrey Ford's “Shadow Year” or Harlan Ellison's “Jeffty is Five”, but with a bot spin. “Bernardo’s House” is the story of the eponymous bachelor, a rich bachelor. He purchased a house with an AI that satisfies his every need. From food to clothes, sex to companionship, she the house is always there for him. But at the start of the story, she is alone, and has been so for more than a year, wondering when Bernardo will return. A thirteen-year old girl camps out on her front lawn one day, and through her the realities of what has transpired in the outside world are slowly revealed, and a new bond created. This is an understated story that not only uses hip neologisms effectively, but pulls, or at least tugs, at the heartstrings.

A brief interlude to the fiction, “The Comedy of Science” offers readers a survey of the past century of robot sf. It starts with Capek R.U.R, and ends in modern, early 21st century. It is a mid-range survey, neither loose or exhaustive, picking and choosing its representative samples. For readers with little classic sf experience, it will be enlightening, while experienced readers will find little new save an effective take. “The Best Christmas Ever” brings back the fiction. As the title indicates, it is a combination of science fiction and the holidays. Two subjects that would not seem to go hand in hand, Kelly makes it work; when the world’s your post-human oyster, presents under the tree take on a whole different meaning. All manner of personalities are combined, virtual and real, as yuletide becomes extra special for one man—and, apparently, only one man.

A short piece, “Uncanny” is a retro sf one-off about a woman who gets a cleaning robot after her boyfriend leaves her. And she accessorizes to, you know, meet physical needs. Too good to be true? Read on and find out. “Grace's Family” is a JPK stab at an Iain Banks culture tale. An AI ship shepherds multiple generations of a family as they explore and map the universe. A coming-of-age story, Kelly attempts to delineate what separates the meaning of relationships for humans and for AI, and does so in mostly successful fashion. (Knife missiles are nowhere to be found.) “Yukui!” is about a sex bot, you guessed it, named Yukui. Accustomed to servitude, she is trying to adjust to a new life after her owner abandons her, one full of freedom. Fairy tale manga-style, your mileage may vary.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled program for the next spot of non-fiction, “Robots on Parade” Another survey, Kelly lays out for the reader where things currently stand with robots and AI. A level deeper than Popular Mechanics but too short to be in-depth, for people not paying attention, it's a nice catch up. And now back to your program. “Your Boyfriend Experience” is a more nuanced take on robotic love than “Yukui!”. In the story, a man struggles with relationships, a void he fills with a sexbot. Social drama ensues. Great intentions, just not sure how precisely story pinpoints theme.

A fun, uplifting, revenge story. “What It Means to Be a Car” tells of a tourist who takes a ride in an AI-powered car a couple centuries after a botched singularity project claimed her mother's memories. Perhaps more vignette than story, Kelly nevertheless has fun playing with AI dialogue. “Embot's Lament” is about an abused woman has had enough and decides to leave her violent husband. Trouble us, she doesn't have common sense or worldly enough experience to have a clear plan or path forward. But it's flying by the seat of her pants that her real story comes into focus—at least backstory. Unless I missed something, JPK leaves her real state somewhat ambiguous, and in the process, compares and contrasts a woman's experience with a robot's. Closing the collection is “Je Ne Regrette Rien”, a novella that is reminiscent of a Ted Chiang piece for its subtlety. An American robotics researcher goes to China to study one of their life-like models, androids called ni ren. These models contrast the clunkier, more blunt version of robots deployed in the US. Through this exploration a dichotomy emerges around metaphysics, epistemology, and phenomenology that can be engaging for the same reasons Chiang's stories often are.

In the end, The Book of Bots is a mix of stories, covering the splashier to serious sides of sf. The variety is real, from mode to substance, published date to intent. Likewise, it gives the reader unaware of Kelly a nice sampler from his oeuvre based around the theme of robots and AI, and the veteran reader several previously uncollected stories. More than just tacked on, they are worth it.


The following are the twelve stories and two essays collected in The Book of Bots:

Itsy Bitsy Spider

10 to 1

Undone

Bernardo's House

The Comedy of Science [essay]

The Best Christmas Ever

Uncanny

Grace's Family

Yukui!

Robots on Parade [essay]

Your Boyfriend Experience

What It Means to Be a Car

Embot's Lament

Je Ne Regrette Rien

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