Uncharles is exactly what you’d expect from an AI valet caught in an existential crisis—meticulous, logical, and way too willing to obey even the most asinine instructions. He’s like if Jeeves had a meltdown and decided to overthrow the aristocracy… except he never quite gets there. The Wonk, meanwhile, injects some much-needed chaos into his world, shaking things up with her feral energy and general disregard for authority. Their dynamic is fun, but let’s be real: she’s there mostly to push Uncharles toward self-discovery rather than being a fully fleshed-out character. As for the rest? The bureaucratic overlords and robotic drones are entertaining but more or less props for the satire. It works, but if you’re looking for deeply nuanced human drama, look elsewhere​.

Tchaikovsky’s world is bleak, oppressive, and as painfully bureaucratic as an unskippable customer service phone tree. Every location feels like it was designed by a government office that lost its funding halfway through construction. The Conservation Farms? A mechanized nightmare of efficiency gone wrong. The Central Library? A hoarder’s paradise with delusions of grandeur. It’s all fascinating and immersive, but sometimes the world feels more like an elaborate stage for Tchaikovsky’s satire than a real place. It gets the job done, but I wouldn’t exactly call it subtle​.

Tchaikovsky’s prose is sharp, clever, and dripping with dry wit. He knows how to take a simple concept—robots stuck in an endless loop of meaningless tasks—and make it both hilarious and deeply unsettling. The dialogue is snappy, the narration is engaging, and the humor is on point. That said, he does love to drag some jokes out past their expiration date, which occasionally slows things down. Still, if you appreciate sci-fi with a satirical edge and an AI protagonist whose existential crisis is somehow funnier than your own, you’ll enjoy the ride​.

The story is basically a series of increasingly ridiculous bureaucratic nightmares strung together, with Uncharles stumbling from one broken system to another like a malfunctioning Roomba. The first half is engaging, the middle starts to feel a bit repetitive (yes, we get it, bureaucracy is terrible), and the ending is solid but not exactly mind-blowing. There are some great twists and turns, but the plot mostly exists to serve the book’s themes rather than keep you on the edge of your seat. If you’re here for action-packed thrills, you’re in the wrong place. If you’re here for robots dunking on capitalism, you’re in luck​.

Let’s be honest—this book is not a pulse-pounding page-turner. It’s engaging in a “let’s watch society collapse under the weight of its own stupidity” kind of way, but it’s also dense, dialogue-heavy, and sometimes bogged down by its own satire. The humor and weirdness kept me going, but there were definitely points where I had to take a break before diving back into another round of bureaucratic nonsense. If you’re looking for high-stakes action or a twisty mystery, you’ll be disappointed. If you’re here to watch an AI question its own existence while getting trapped in endless red tape, you’re golden.

For a book about completely broken systems, Service Model is remarkably well put together. The logic behind every absurdity is airtight, making its satire hit even harder. The relationships, particularly between Uncharles and the Wonk, are well-crafted and layered—though it’s less about emotional depth and more about clashing ideologies. Their dynamic is great, but don’t expect warm fuzzies. This book is about cold, unfeeling logic clashing with chaotic rebellion, and in that sense, it absolutely nails what it sets out to do​.

Did I enjoy Service Model? Absolutely. Did I love every single moment of it? Not quite. It’s an incredibly smart book, but it’s also dense, occasionally repetitive, and so committed to its satire that it sometimes forgets to let the story breathe. The humor and sharp writing kept me entertained, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t skim a few sections when the bureaucracy got too bureaucratic. Still, if you like your sci-fi with a heavy dose of existential dread and dark humor, this is a ride worth taking​.

Service Model is what happens when you take The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, remove all hope, and replace it with the worst aspects of customer service. It’s brilliantly satirical, darkly hilarious, and painfully accurate in its depiction of bureaucratic hellscapes. But it’s also dense, occasionally repetitive, and more focused on making a point than telling a gripping story. If you’re in the mood for sharp social commentary wrapped in dry humor, you’ll have a great time. If you’re looking for fast-paced action or deep emotional resonance, you might want to file this one under “appreciated, but not loved.”