Chapter 1: Introduction to Adaptation

Can ChatGPT genuinely craft a modern retelling of "The Twelve Chairs"? The answer seems to be no—unless I engage ChatGPT for assistance.

While I admit my unfamiliarity with the original text, I understand it's a comedic Russian commentary on society. Given a chapter in Russian and instructed to leave it untouched, my industrious nature pushed me to explore its potential.

The narrative is packed with humor and cultural references, which might be challenging for a language model to grasp. The prevailing notion is that an LLM cannot fully interpret this context, making translation difficult. But let's take it a step further. What about creating an adaptation? With no external resources and solely utilizing GPT-4, I aim to modernize this tale while honoring its roots.

Chapter 2: The Hymnal Quest

As Alex mobilized the search for the last hymnal from St. Augustine's, Henry, feeling the chill of the breeze on his freshly shaved head, stepped out of the church office and roamed through his hometown.

Gentle spring rain trickled along the sidewalks, its rhythmic sound merging with the drops falling from rooftop gutters. Rats scoured the sidewalks for their meals, while cars splashed through puddles, creating a symphony of urban life. Soggy flyers clung to utility poles, their QR codes barely visible: "Learn Guitar by Numbers" and "Civic Studies Lessons for College Prep." A boy scout troop splashed through a puddle stretching from Starbucks to City Hall, adorned with plaster eagles, trophies, and dollar signs.

Henry strolled, intrigued by the faces of those he passed—familiar yet changed. After experiencing the cultural upheavals of the 60s, the dot-com boom, and the 2008 crash, he thought he was used to change. However, returning to his hometown in New York felt eerily foreign, like stepping back from Paris. Previously, a walk through town meant friendly nods; now, four blocks along Liberty Street yielded no familiar faces. They had either vanished, aged, or transformed into strangers by their attire.

Lost in thought, he reached the intersection of Truth and Justice Streets. Nostalgia washed over him, recalling times when familiar faces would greet him at the community center. Stopping in expectation, he instead spotted a bike courier zooming past, adorned with a bright blue helmet, navigating the newly marked bike lanes. A man in a stylish cap emerged, followed by schoolchildren burdened with tablets.

Suddenly, a warmth spread through Henry's palms, and a chill gripped his stomach. A kind-looking stranger approached, holding a hymnal as if it were a precious relic. Recognizing it instantly, Henry's excitement surged.

Nearby, a vendor shouted, "Phone repairs, screen replacements, battery swaps!" An echo followed: "Laptop repairs, data recovery!" A protester yelled, "Free Palestine! End the occupation!" A window shattered above, as city life buzzed around him.

With a sudden burst of energy, Henry lunged for the hymnal, but the stranger resisted. "Help, robbery," he whispered, tightening his grip. Henry stammered, "Please, let go," desperately trying to detach the man's fingers.

A small crowd gathered, phones out, capturing the unfolding drama. Someone shouted, "World star!" as another muttered, "This is going viral!"

Both men glanced around nervously but continued to walk briskly, trying to act normal while clinging to the hymnal. "What’s happening?" Henry wondered frantically, noting the stranger's unreadable expression but determined stride.

As they reached a vacant lot strewn with gravel, Henry's strength surged. "Let go!" he shouted, forgetting any semblance of decorum. "Help!" the stranger whimpered. With their hands occupied, they began kicking each other. Initially, the stranger's reinforced boots dealt the worst blows, but Henry dodged and aimed for the midsection. Despite the hymnal's hindrance, he managed to kick the man's knee, forcing him to hop on one leg.

"Oh, dear God," the stranger murmured, and suddenly, realization struck—this was Pastor Fred from St. Augustine's.

Henry was taken aback. "Pastor!" he exclaimed, letting go of the hymnal in shock.

Pastor Fred, blushing with embarrassment, released his grip. The hymnal fell onto the rubble. "Where's your beard, Pastor?" Henry quipped sarcastically.

"And your hair? Thought you’d never go bald," the Pastor shot back.

An unbearable tension filled the air. Henry picked up the hymnal and started to walk away, but Pastor Fred, recovering quickly, protested, "No, I insist," and snatched it back. They resumed their positions, poised for another round.

A tense moment passed. "So it's you, Pastor," Henry rasped, "hunting for what's rightfully mine?" With that, he kicked Pastor Fred in the thigh.

The Pastor dodged nimbly but retaliated with a kick aimed at a sensitive spot, missing and only landing a glancing blow. "It's not your property."

"Whose is it then?" Henry countered.

"It's God's property."

"God's property?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I see… God's work, is it?"

"Yes, it is!"

Unable to contain his frustration, Henry shouted, "God's work!" and spat in Pastor Fred's face. The Pastor retaliated in kind. Both men were unable to wipe the spit away, continuing their struggle with grim resolve. Henry emitted a sound like a door creaking open and shoved the hymnal hard against Pastor Fred's chest. They both fell, the hymnal tumbling into the debris.

The struggle persisted on the ground. Suddenly, there was a loud crack as the hymnal's cover split. They forgot their conflict and began tearing at the pages, Pastor Fred letting out a mournful cry as the binding ripped. Fingers grazed the sharp edges of the old, brittle paper.

Five minutes later, the hymnal lay in ruins, its pages and cover scattered. "Well, did you find it?" Henry panted.

Pastor Fred, covered in paper remnants and dirt, remained silent.

"You liar!" Henry shouted. "I should knock you out, Pastor Fred!"

"Try it!" the Pastor retorted.

"Where will you go now, looking like that?"

"None of your business!"

"Shame on you, Pastor! You’re nothing but a thief!"

"I stole nothing from you!"

"And how did you know about this, then? Using confession secrets for your gain? Very holy of you!"

With a disdainful "Pfft," Henry walked away, brushing dirt from his sleeves. As he turned the corner of Liberty Street and Main Alley, he spotted his friend Trevor, the self-proclaimed Chief Visionary Officer, chatting with a food truck vendor about boosting sales.

"So, how did the search go?" Trevor asked casually. "Wait, don’t tell me yet. You look too worked up—grab a taco first."

After paying the vendor, Trevor led Henry to a nearby bench. Still fuming, Henry recounted everything that had transpired.

"Aha! No beard? Got it. That hymnal came from the church bazaar—bought this morning for ten bucks."

"Wait, there’s more…"

Henry detailed Pastor Fred's deceitful actions. Trevor's expression darkened. "This is a real mess," he said. "We’ve got a mysterious rival. We need to outsmart him, but we’ll handle it later."

As they enjoyed more tacos, Trevor inquired about the church office's current location and history. The day began to wind down.

Outside, day transitioned into evening, drops from the rooftops hanging briefly in the chilly air before splashing onto the pavement. The playful honking of cars quieted, blending into the evening cityscape's soft hum. Rats hurried along, carting off a well-earned slice of pizza, a quiet nod to the day’s end.

The decorative elements of City Hall glowed under the rising moon. Walking home with a suddenly silent Trevor, Henry gazed at the hall's ornate features. Once, this was the old county seat, cherished for its elaborate statues that marked the town.

"I'll find it," Henry resolved, looking at the majestic facade. The statues, glimmering in the moonlight, seemed to nod in agreement, instilling him with newfound confidence.

Chapter 3: Evaluating the Modernization

1. Fidelity to Original Themes and Symbols: Excellent
2. Cultural Relevance and Sensitivity: Good
3. Character Adaptation and Development: Good
4. Humor and Absurdity: Excellent
5. Overall Story Coherence and Engagement: Good
6. Integration of Modern Elements: Excellent
7. Honoring Original Format: Good

In Conclusion

This endeavor consumed a good portion of my day. Was it a failure? A moderate success? Regardless, it proved to be an enjoyable side project. With more time, I could refine it further. The piece serves as a test of my ability to modernize a segment of a story I’m unfamiliar with, and which I cannot read in its original language.

Note: I neglected to replace the name "Alex" with "Trevor" at the start. I felt "Trevor" suited our con artist better, possibly influenced by the American adaptation of "Ghosts." Additionally, I accidentally duplicated a paragraph during editing. However, this piece was completed in four hours and will remain as is for evaluation.

Further Reading

A translation of the original book is available below, though I cannot attest to its quality. Should I include a full GPT-4 translation of the chapter based on the original Russian?

A fascinating consideration is how easily humans can be "prompt hacked." Individuals who believe a piece is AI-generated tend to rate it lower than they would if they thought it was created by a human.