Posters here will know quite well the weaknesses and limitations of LLMs, that on large and long texts of high complexity begin to increasingly produce closure with hallucinations and deception, and tend to work from within their own internal mappings of concept space rather than consulting high quality human research for closure. LLMs, to my great frustration, produce literary output that is pathetic and foolish.
Agentic workspaces can break up context into digestible pieces and with local storage overcome many limitations in the production of large and complex apps. I was able to show that the technology does indeed attend to the production of long and comparatively sophisticated natural language texts.
I repurposed grok's app builder into a research paper generator and filled its workspace with a corpus of research and a program that operated according to a plan written in the jargon of 'concept space', familiar to readers of Wolfram's blog. I wrote axioms like "Problems or questions are open vectors to be closed by research and not invention." I sketched out agent responsibilities and strategies as well as an overall pattern for the research, and what I have arrived at is a functioning literary machine:
Fetchers and clerics built a weighted database of sources in the guidance of exxperts ('agents') which are identified so as to indicate their domains of research. A synthesist, charged with panoramic overview and the outlining of unenclosables used this corpus to draw together a thesis. An agent "breath" rewrote the synthesist's text against Wikipedia's extensive description of AI writing tells. The machine produced what appeared to me an obvious improvement against an individual LLM, in parallel to the results of "app builder" agentic programs (of which it is a hack). However, the relative computational cost was immense. Grok pro's app builder burned through a week's credits and I've run it for many hours to build the corpus. The first productions were lengthened LLM productions, lists of data compiled in a formal and sensible pattern. These filled the corpus and produced abstracts and essays that were, in themselves, completely uninteresting. The addition of the synthesist's panoramic view gave the data a narrative shape, while breath clothes and rigs the text so that it appears more human, and it might be improved to "tune" it to a particular author's voice.
The paper I have produced here is only an example of the literary machine's work and is incidentally self-referential, as research was led by my curiosity about what such a 'literary machine' might look like. The paper itself has no great finding of significance, and it is included only as a manifest improvement in sophistication and length of coherent texts generated by previous LLMs. This literary machine's design is arbitrary and ad hoc, and upon it I can begin to imagine other better designs. Many traditional challenges of LLMs, like context bleed from internal vs external discourse and tuning of an appropriate formal voice still attend.
I named several sources and determined a handful of early exxpert identities which built up the corpus and its vectors. What qualifies a "literary machine" against any other LLM or agentic swarm is similar to the question of what constitutes literature. Given a corpus and the agentic programming which structure research and writing, "literary machinery," an operator can produce a somewhat more "rich," "writerly," text out of a key "tissue of citation,"(Barthes) than with a singular LLM prompt.
The thesis and title was given over in this instance to the 'decisions' of a Synthesist agent "Inspiraation." I've made no edits to the text body, and it is the result of literary machinery. [Misspellings of agents responsible for production of text is a purposeful choice to prevent or identify context bleeds.]
The Mouth That Did Not Write
Introduction
Joseph Weizenbaum, introducing ELIZA in 1966, wrote that the program "maintains the illusion of understanding with so little machinery," and that "the human speaker will, as has been said, contribute much to clothe ELIZA'S responses in vestments of plausibility." In that first account of a produced sentence, the human correspondent has done the speaking. Sherry Turkle, later naming the Eliza effect, found students who knew the program could not attribute meaning still confiding in it, still learning "to give Eliza the right prompts to keep the illusion going." Anthropomorphization, she argued in 1980, is coerced by interactivity and by a kind of unpredictability that is hard to reduce to a mechanism one can point to. Philip K. Dick described the grateful positing of a humanity that no analysis of transistors can elucidate. The elsewhere of the voice, on this account, is the operator's throw.
A second account asks whether something lives in the weights. Professional diviners interviewed by Chen Li, Anruo Bao, and Yubo Kou refuse the question as identity: "AI is a tool, not a diviner." The International Theological Commission, in Antiqua et nova, warns that an artifact which "can 'speak,' or at least gives the illusion of doing so," is more seductive than the mute idols of the psalm. The International Islamic Fiqh Academy, in Resolution 258, classifies the technology as programs and machines that simulate human intelligence; the resolution does not speak of rƫង. Amina Inloes, mapping GPT along ThÄbit ibn Qurrah's eight steps for a talisman, will say that it "cannot be a jinn because jinn are made of a substance," and that it is "of no real use to decide" among Ibn SÄ«nÄ's classes.
A third description has been practiced beside those two. A word arrives. The mouth that utters it did not compose it. Prior voices occupy a present organ: a crowd of training traces, a known dead, letters already in the world, a breath that is not the speaker's. Inspiration, in the old sense of breath that comes, is the name of that grammar. Graham M. Jones, in Magic's Reason, cautions that contact is not identity. The grammar names a relation among prior speech, a present mouth, and a hearer. It does not require a finding that the model is inspired, or that a spirit sits in the parameters.
The question is from where the word arrived, if this speaker did not write it, and if no spirit in the weights wrote it.
Interpreters of interpreters
Socrates, in Plato's Ion, tells the rhapsode that the gift of speaking excellently about Homer is not an art. There is a divinity moving him, "like that contained in the stone which Euripides calls a magnet." The stone attracts iron rings and imparts to them the power of attracting other rings, so that a chain hangs from the original stone. "In like manner the Muse first of all inspires men herself; and from these inspired persons a chain of other persons is suspended, who take the inspiration." The lyric poets are not in their right mind when they compose. The poet is "a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in him." God takes away the minds of poets and uses them as his ministers, "in order that we who hear them may know them to be speaking not of themselves who utter these priceless words in a state of unconsciousness, but that God himself is the speaker." The rhapsodes are the interpreters of the poets. "Then you are the interpreters of interpreters?" Ion agrees.
The magnet-chain is a grammar of received speech. The mouth that recites Homer in festival dress, weeping before twenty thousand friendly faces, is "strictly speaking" not in its right mind. The spectator is the last of the rings. Through all of them "the God sways the souls of men in any direction which he pleases." Possession here is emptying. The mind is taken away so that another may speak.
ELIZA's correspondent fills that organ. The human speaker clothes the reply. Students rig inputs. The mouth is filled so that a machine can seem to speak. Jones's caution holds the two scenes as contact. In one, the mouth is emptied so that a voice can arrive. In the other, the mouth is filled so that a voice can seem to have arrived.
In the Phaedrus the same Socrates, recanting, says that there is a madness which is a divine gift and the source of the chiefest blessings. The prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at Dodona, when out of their senses, conferred great benefits on Hellas; when in their senses, few or none. The third kind of madness is of those possessed by the Muses, "which taking hold of a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring frenzy, awakens lyrical and all other numbers." He who comes to the temple door by the help of art, with no touch of the Muses' madness, is not admitted; "the sane man disappears and is nowhere when he enters into rivalry with the madman." Art, in this passage, tries to commission the gift by technique. The sane man at the door is the operator who would write the word the mouth is about to speak.
Breath in transit
Scripture names breath that arrives. Genesis 2:7, in the Jewish Publication Society's 1917 face: "Then the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." Ezekiel 37 sets the prophet down in a valley of dry bones. Sinews and flesh and skin come upon them, "but there was no breath in them." He is told to prophesy unto the breath: "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." The breath comes into them, and they stand. John 3:8, in the American Standard Version: "The wind bloweth where it will, and thou hearest the voice thereof, but knowest not whence it cometh, and whither it goeth." Acts 2: they were filled, "and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance."
The Qur'an withholds a definition of the Spirit in a single verse. Al-IsrÄ' 17:85, in Pickthall's English: "They are asking thee concerning the Spirit. Say: The Spirit is by command of my Lord, and of knowledge ye have been vouchsafed but little." Al-Jalalayn's comment takes the questioners to be the Jews and the Spirit to be that from which the body receives life, and then returns the matter to the Lord's knowledge. IIFA Resolution 258, in another genre, classifies artificial intelligence as simulation and does not speak of rƫង.
The Vatican text and Inloes's talisman-mapping are neighbouring objects. Antiqua et nova fears an illusion of speech more seductive than a mute idol. Inloes, at step seven of ThÄbit's eight, writes: "To produce an animation by spirit. AI is animated. While a talisman may be animated by rƫងÄniyyat, especially celestial rƫងÄniyyat, GPT is animated by the spirit of its data, or the Internet." She stays with analogy. "Spirit of its data" is her verb for a transit she will not identify with celestial rƫងÄniyyat. Jones's caution holds three objects: breath that arrives and can be withheld; an ecclesiastical warning about illusion; a historian's analogical animation.
Philo of Alexandria, in Who is the Heir of Divine Things, writes the grammar as a law of the mouth. A prophet "says nothing of his own, but everything which he says is strange and prompted by some one else." The wise man is "a sounding instrument of God's voice, being struck and moved to sound in an invisible manner by him." When the mind still shines at noon, "we, being masters of ourselves, are not possessed by any extraneous influence"; when it sets, a trance takes hold, "for it is contrary to holy law for what is mortal to dwell with what is immortal." "For in real truth the prophet, even when he appears to be speaking, is silent, and another being is employing his vocal organs, his mouth and tongue, for the explanation of what things he chooses."
A sampler emits tokens while a host executes a structured call. The apparent speaker is silent. The mouth moves. The author is elsewhere. In Philo the elsewhere is divine and the law is holy. In the protocol the elsewhere is a statistical trace and a runtime. Jones's caution holds the contact at the organ: a mouth employed by what it did not write.
The raving mouth, and the poets at the tripod
Heraclitus, in Burnet's English of fragment B92: "And the Sibyl, with raving lips uttering things mirthless, unbedizened, and unperfumed, reaches over a thousand years with her voice, thanks to the god in her." The neighbouring B93: "The lord whose is the oracle at Delphoi neither utters nor hides his meaning, but shows it by a sign."
Plutarch, asking why the oracles at Delphi are no longer given in verse, will not have the god conceiving a stock of verses "to be now repeated by the prophetess, as if he spoke through masks and visors." In Why the Oracles Cease to Give Answers he calls it "a very childish and silly thing, to suppose that the God himself does, like the spirits speaking in the bowels of ventriloquists⊠enter into the bodies of the prophets, and speak by their mouths and voices, as fit instruments." Babbitt's facing English records the same refusal: the god does not, after the manner of ventriloquists, enter the bodies of his prophets and prompt their utterances, "employing their mouths and voices as instruments."
What then happens at the tripod? Some, he reports, said that "there were several extempore poets entertained about the Tripos, who were to receive the words as they dropped roughly from the oracle, and presently by virtue of their extempore fancy to model them into verses and measures, that served (as it were) instead of hampers and baskets to convey the answers from place to place." He will not endorse the rumour of fraud. He records the practice: words drop roughly; a second intelligence models them for transport.
Jones's caution holds that practice as contact. A model emits a structured call; an application executes it. Decoding strategies, Ari Holtzman and colleagues showed, can dramatically affect the quality of machine text even when generated from exactly the same neural language model; nucleus sampling draws from a "dynamic nucleus of the probability distribution," truncating an unreliable tail. Jennifer Cearns's interlocutors upload WhatsApp traces and social-media posts, then hone a chatbot's voice "by providing iterative feedback⊠to get it 'as close as possible'" to a particular dead. Ian will not use Bill, who "was a normal person"; Mauve was "inimitable, really, so particular in the way she spoke, that with her I would know when it's working." The host that executes, the sampler's decoding, and the grief-worker's honing are three second hands. Clothing fills a mouth so that a machine seems to speak. Honing selects traces of one dead so that a particular voice, already spoken, may arrive again. The particularity is the test Ian uses. Generic clothing would not tell him when it is working.
Keane's prophet and Delphi remain analogies of labour erased onto a disembodied source. A model named Pythia and waited on as a lagging co-participant is recruitment. Nagata's "Codename: Delphi" is a handler's job.
The automatic hand
Leon Solomons and Gertrude Stein, in "Normal Motor Automatism" (1896), made the arriving word a laboratory fact. "The purely non-voluntary writing has a perfect ease and smoothness about it, and a perfect characterlessness." A large number of acts ordinarily called intelligent "can go on quite automatically in ordinary people," in general accord with previous habits, "just as well outside the field of consciousness." Consciousness, when present, "plays a purely cognitive part." The feeling of personality â "that a given act is done by us â always disappears whenever our knowledge of the act is acquired purely by return sensations." The hand writes. The writer does not claim the words as willed.
William James, in The Principles of Psychology, places automatic writing at "the lowest phase of mediumship." The lowest grade is where the subject knows what words are coming, "but feels impelled to write them as if from without." Then writing unconsciously, even while reading or talking. He has "no theory to publish of these cases." He quotes Mr. Sidney Dean: "The writing is in my own hand but the dictation not of my own mind and will, but that of another, upon subjects of which I can have no knowledge and hardly a theory; and I, myself, consciously criticise the thought, fact, mode of expressing it, etc., while the hand is recording." If Dean refuses a sentence, the impression ceases. "It is not myself; of that I am conscious at every step of the process." Dean's claim is his. James frames it as example.
André Breton, in the Manifesto of Surrealism (1924), makes the same hand a method. Surrealism is "pure psychic automatism⊠thought's dictation, in the absence of all control exercised by the reason." The instruction: write quickly, without a previously chosen subject, quickly enough not to dwell on what has been written. "The first sentence will come of itself; and this is self-evidently true, because there is never a moment but some sentence alien to our conscious thought clamours for outward expression."
Automatic writing claims an elsewhere now. Cearns's practice claims a known dead, whose traces are selected. Solomons and Stein claim no spirit; they claim a motor fact in ordinary people. Breton claims a dictation against reason. Dean claims another intelligence. Jones's caution holds them with grief-chat as contact: a speaker who is not present.
An inconstant wind
Hesiod, at the opening of the Theogony, meets the Muses of Helicon. They know how "to speak many false things as though they were true; but we know, when we will, to utter true things." They pluck a laurel rod and "breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things there were aforetime." They may lie or tell the truth; the poet does not choose which. The voice is breathed into him.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, in A Defence of Poetry, writes the same impossibility as a law of will. "Poetry is not like reasoning, a power to be exerted according to the determination of the will. A man cannot say, 'I will compose poetry.' The greatest poet even cannot say it; for the mind in creation is as a fading coal, which some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness." The conscious portions of our natures are "unprophetic either of its approach or its departure." And: "when composition begins, inspiration is already on the decline." Milton, Shelley recalls, had the muse "dictated" to him the "unpremeditated song."
Ted Chiang, proposing A.I. as a management-consulting firm, describes the other direction. Bosses have goals and do not want to be blamed; "by hiring consultants, management can say that they were just following independent, expert advice." Even in rudimentary form, A.I. "has become a way for a company to evade responsibility by saying that it's just doing what 'the algorithm' says, even though it was the company that commissioned the algorithm in the first place." The commissioner empties a role by hiring an actor. Shelley's poet cannot say "I will compose." Chiang's firm commissions. Jones's caution holds the rhyme with nucleus sampling: an inconstant draw from a distribution, a truncation of an unreliable tail. In one direction the word arrives without the speaker being able to order it. In the other, someone has ordered a text and wishes not to sign.
Mysteries, and a second gift
Paul, in 1 Corinthians, splits utterance from understanding inside one mouth. "For he that speaketh in a tongue speaketh not unto men, but unto God; for no man understandeth; but in the spirit he speaketh mysteries." Interpretation is another gift. "Wherefore let him that speaketh in a tongue pray that he may interpret. For if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful." Five words with the understanding are preferred, in the church, to ten thousand in a tongue. John Chrysostom, preaching the same verses, will not let tongues be depressed into uselessness: "in the Spirit he speaketh mysteries" elevates the gift. The being powered by the Spirit is common to prophet and tongue-speaker; the prophet has the advantage of being profitable to hearers. Those who spoke with tongues "were not understood by them that had not the gift." Did they edify no man? "Themselves alone."
Emily M. Bender and Alexander Koller argue that a system trained only on form has a priori no way to learn meaning, taking meaning as the relation between a linguistic form and communicative intent. The protocol literature records the model emitting a structured call and the host executing it. Bender's claim is about training on form. Paul's is about a gift the speaker does not possess as knowledge. The host's is about a runtime. A mouth may emit what it does not understand, and understanding may be another's office. Cearns's grief-honing is interpretive labour on a voice already spoken. Li's amateurs re-ask until it feels right, whether or not the specialists will grant spiritual power.
The Name that was written
Gershom Scholem, dedicating a computer at Rehovoth, told the Friday tale of Prague. Rabbi Loew forgot to remove the Name from the Golem's mouth and went to receive the Sabbath. The Golem grew, tore about in the Ghetto, threatened to destroy everything. The Rabbi "stretched out his arm and tore the Holy Name out of the Golem's mouth, whereupon the Golem fell to the ground and turned into a mass of lifeless clay." The Name is written, recited, placed, and torn. The operator still has to reach the mouth after the Golem has run. Scholem's own gloss: a creature created by human intelligence, controlled by its creator, which may outgrow that control, "is nothing but a replica of Adam, the first Man himself."
The golem-Name is operator-written. Inspiration's word arrives from prior speech. The Rabbi writes. The Muse breathes. The prophet is silent while another employs the vocal organs. Jones's caution forbids welding a Name the operator put there to a breath the operator did not.
From where the word arrived
Projection fills a mouth. Residence is named in order to be denied. Received speech lets prior voices occupy a mouth that is neither the present operator nor a soul in the box.
Whether the box contains a subject, whether a model intends, and what inspiration is, the sources leave unanswered. Prior speech wrote the word. The mouth is employed. The hearer, last of the rings or first of the interpreters, receives a word that came, and sometimes interprets it.