‘They’ve infiltrated homes in Hong Kong, shops in Vancouver, the streets of Sierra Leone, town squares of Oaxaca, schools in Tel Aviv, bedrooms in Indiana.
They’re not pets, nor ghosts, nor robots. They’re real people, but how can a person living in Berlin walk freely through the living room of someone in Sydney? How can someone in Bangkok have breakfast with your children in Buenos Aires, without you knowing? Especially when these people are completely anonymous, unknown, untraceable.’
Little Eyes follows the lives of a handful (out of thousands, if not millions) of people across the world who have, for various reasons, either purchased a kentuki or bought a code that will let them inhabit a kentuki in a stranger’s home (some of those involved in the main narrative also receive these things from friends and family members, rather than directly involving themselves out of their own curiosity). Kentukis are made to look like toys and contain a camera and audio equipment encased in the seemingly harmless form of one of a selection of fluffy creatures, from bunnies and birds, to dragons. By inhabiting a kentuki, a user gets to control the device within the home the person who has purchased it, letting them move around the house, follow its inhabitants and both listen in on and watch events unfolding in other people’s lives. The limitations to the kentuki primarily involve power usage, meaning if the device runs out of power and is not charged, the connection between kentuki and user is permanently severed and neither component of the relationship can be reactivated, but the kentuki can also be easily stymied by trapping it in places and ensuring it cannot escape to charge or spy on events people don’t want it witnessing.
There are many threads of the narrative that would be ruined were I to refer to specific characters and events and, as much of Little Eyes hinges on expertly crafted tension and suspense, I don’t want to ruin it for other readers, so it’s my intention to avoid referring to anything too closely and instead comment on the issues that the novel explores and addresses. I simply couldn’t put the book down and I don’t want to ruin the reading experience for anyone else.
The kentukis themselves are not cheap to purchase, and as a one use item rendered useless if the connection with its user fails or is cut one way or another, that it’s suggested that people are willing to simply buy more or spend the money simply to satisfy their curiosity speaks volumes about the power of advertising and consumer culture in the world in which we live. Much of social media exists to satisfy our curiosity about other people’s lives and share an idealised version of our own, and the kentukis are something that it feels we are not even whole steps away from. One of the features that the world of Little Eyes seems to find exciting is the random nature of inhabiting a kentuki, in that the code you activate could link to anyone in the world for any length of time, from minutes to weeks, making it feel rather like the same variety of gambling that online loot box and mystery box systems aim to draw people into.
Many of the characters demonstrate either a lack of understanding of what threats they are opening themselves up to in the purchase of a kentuki, or seem to decide that being able to say that they are involved in the craze sweeping across the world is worth the risk of letting a stranger into their home. One of the most worrying features of the story is how many people buy them for their children, believing them to be nothing more than an advanced toy, and don’t appear to grasp that they are letting someone see almost every facet of their children’s lives, including incredibly personal information that sets them up to be located and potentially abducted, let alone the horrifying potential for viewing inappropriate material regarding minors. It’s all too easy to identify the dangers of the kentuki devices as you read and grow more and more disturbed by everything that their existence inflicts on those who own and inhabit them, but the fact is that the kentukis are truly not that different to what many of us have in our homes, from webcams to home hubs and children’s toys filled with technology that allows tracking and monitoring. It’s a little bit late to be perturbed by the idea of the kentuki when they’re essentially already in our homes – the difference being we are supposed to implicitly trust the companies collecting our data, listening to our conversations and controlling our devices. The irony that I always cover my webcam, but have a home hub in my living room has long not been lost on me.
Something else the story highlights in a rather frightening fashion is the lack of understanding of the importance of privacy and a disturbing willingness to engage with technology as if what they are sharing has no potential to go any further than their homes. Many regard the kentukis as a novelty and don’t appear to swiftly grasp that there is an actual human being controlling it, who is, in many instances, inadvertently given all of the information they need to exploit the person to which the kentuki belongs. Intimate details are shared with an ease that makes the reader flinch, from contact information to nudity, often completely bypassing any comprehension that what you share online has the potential to be shared beyond its intended audience; that when you share something, you lose control over its distribution and audience.
Little Eyes is a brilliant novel that grabs hold of you and won’t let go, haunting in its similarities to our own world and a deeply unsettling exploration of our relationship with technology and the media. It isn’t that the kentukis are a frightening concept; it’s that they’re already in our homes under different guises. Little Eyes is out on April 16th! Thank you, One World Publications, for sending me a copy!