How I Read a Classic Novel With AI to Guide Me

Digital platforms for reading, like e-readers, have never been my speed. I relish the tangible quality of print magazines and books, leaving slight fingerprints on their pages as you flip through. Then I came across Rebind, which bills itself as an “AI-native publishing company” for classic reads, using artificial intelligence to expand the e-reader experience (with the help of prerecorded, expert-led commentary). I needed to learn more. 

The platform is incredibly new — it launched mere days ago, at the tail end of October, the entrepreneurial and creative collaboration of John Kaag and John Dubuque. With it you can access standalone titles ($30) or sign up for an annual subscription ($120 a year). 

The first five books to choose from on Rebind are:

• Dubliners by James Joyce
• Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
• The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
• Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche
• Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Rebind’s process includes you picking a book from its library, discussing the book with an AI-powered chatbot and watching video content from the company’s Rebinders — a handpicked collection of writers, philosophers and commentators (mostly white men) who guide the reading process through hours of prerecorded video commentary, woven into each chapter. 

I decided on Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, which I would be able to explore in discussion with Rebinder and Pulitzer Prize finalist Chloé Cooper Jones. This was a reread for me, chosen for its timely and familiar themes — plus Jones’s gender and cultural identity. In total, I spent three days immersing myself in three sectioned chapters, 11 discussions and seven videos on the Rebind platform. 

The Rebind process

Once I accessed Heart of Darkness, I was prompted with a video on the righthand side of my computer screen where Jones introduced herself and detailed her connection and reaction to the book. Below it, the first chapter was laid out in front of me. When highlighting a section, I could add reactions, start an AI-powered chat about the section or annotate, highlight and copy the text. There’s also an option to change text size, theme colors, font and page customization. (To ease eye strain, I decided on a black theme and Arial font.)

Each title has a table of contents where you can navigate to different videos and discussions within each chapter. I was immediately drawn to the first discussion, titled “Darkness Vs Light.” Good news for my self-esteem: The AI-powered discussion chat box (which responded with commentary pulled from hours of Jones’ prerecorded content) was fond of my take on this first discussion point. If no one else is validating your intellect, maybe Rebind is a place to spend a few days. 

It was a bit like a next-generation picture book. I found myself seeking out Jones’ face for her video commentary — and a way to break up the monotony of words that streamed down my computer screen. I hold a theory that all books should read like a book of essays, where each chapter is connected to another, though not chronological — nor imperative to read in a linear format. 

Without the physical element of turning pages, I found my eyes glazing over as I read (and eventually skimmed) the pages that followed — particularly when I reread portions my brain deemed familiar. So, similarly to how I interact with physical reads, I skipped around through chapters. On Rebind, though, I had the option to weave in and out of videos, discussions and suggested questions that popped up in each chapter. This, inevitably, is where I felt the most stimulated. 

The process nurtured a nice balance between my curiosity about and my comprehension of the book. While I believe Rebind’s mission was to delve into the rich psychological takes within each classic’s chapters, its structure helped me focus on certain aspects of the title instead of forcing myself to sift through the entirety of the read. 

Did Rebind potentially solve the challenge of reading for those who are easily distracted, though creative and curious? (Seventeen-year-old high school AP English me would have voted for Rebind’s approach, rather than the chunks of reading assigned each night.) 

Should you (re)read classics with Rebind?

For those who may be seeking interaction without needing to find an in-person community, or who may want a new topic to present to a community that already exists, I can see Rebind as a way to navigate your own thoughts and questions, without being subjected to overwhelming or exhausting personalities. (Though that may be a good mental exercise.)

I’d sort of expected to be dissatisfied, somehow, with Rebind, but it offers an opportunity to learn something about yourself — which mirrors Rebind’s mission to think deeply and explore reads beyond the words on the page. 

I was pleasantly surprised by Rebind’s interactive nature, even though it uses aspects of the reading experience I normally steer clear of: e-readers and book clubs. What I realized is that Rebind declutters the experiences or tools needed to find a classic read,  have a discussion about it, find new connections and meaning to its themes and motifs, and not have to go outside.

While I think $120 for annual access is pricey, I can side with a $30 standalone title, knowing that you’re paying for access to experts and artificial intelligence integration within the platform. Personal preference aside, I stand with a platform using AI to keep books safe and accessible — even if that means navigating them on a digital screen, in discussion with yourself and with algorithms toiling in the background.