Review by Ian Keogh
System Preference is Ugo Bienvenu’s look into the not far distant future where the world is still largely recognisable, but not as comforting as leaps in technology might suggest. Global data storage has reached capacity, so it’s been decided to delete vast swathes of information. Yves Mathon is a data curator appalled at executive decisions wiping all references to widely acknowledged masterpieces in order to free space for social media videos, but with the technical knowhow to circumvent official wishes. He stores otherwise deleted material in his house robot Mikki, which doubles as the gestation unit for his baby. Meanwhile his wife is working on films where every last detail is focus-tested to avoid offending any group whatsoever.
Although presented as a straight SF thriller with an ethical heart, there’s a satirical element to System Preference, not least 2001: A Space Odyssey being deleted forever to make space for K-Rineohmygod’s holiday recollections. Bienvenu asks what we value as a society and how far we should go to protect art via desperate consequences for defying authority.
Simply coloured stiff and blocky art builds a world where visual details are important, a vast procession suggesting the rise of Christian religious fundamentalism being one. There’s a sense of humour present in the design of clothing and accessories, along with the sinister anonymising of officials, while Bienvenu also satirises art without substance. However, it’s also necessary to supply the beauty of nature, which is in the manner of a stained glass window, frozen creatures seen in bright surroundings.
What might be a straightforward dystopian thriller has greater depth for Bienvenu discussing options. Yves possesses the curiosity of intelligence, wondering how Mikki views the world and humanity, and a key sequence outlines the value of individual perception when set against remorseless logic. Bienvenu doesn’t just replay Mr Spock, though, dropping in the wonderful idea of Mikki’s fondest wish being an ability to sleep.
A complete change occurs halfway through, drawing a line under much of what’s been revealed before. It’s surprising, and initially unwelcome, but Bienvenu wins readers over as he deals with education of Isi and her being raised in a secluded rural environment. While very different narratively, thematically this sequences neatly with earlier material in essentially asking the same questions about the priorities of obsolescence. Should they be commercial or natural? And what would natural be?
System Preference ends with uncertainty, although without doubt strongly hinting at Isi following an agenda contrary to society. Follow Bienvenu’s winding path for a thoughtful and engaging experience with a very human heart.
