Neuromancer by William Gibson. Started the “cypberpunk” revolution, or, at least the novel is credited with starting it.
I quit, almost a week ago, trying to do anything truly productive because of the slow movement of Mercury. And it’s not even officially retorgrade, well, not yet.
One of the purposes of having a wall of books, though, at least, the way I see it, is that I’ve got novels, works of fiction, prose, poetry, old texts, some trash, a few paperback books, textual contexts that I can refer back to, from time to time.
Like when Mercury is messing with everyone’s head.
Instead of starting a new book, I just shuffle through and pick up something I’ve read before, and I get to relive that attachment.
It’s still a quick read, and it still works, and it does introduce some ideas that are popular, even these days. Too bad we don’t have all the technology just yet. And the copyright suggests that the novel is now almost 20 years old.
Literary History, it was cyberpunk, and that was an offshoot of “new wave,” bleak future histories written in the 1960s. Plus, although highly dependent on computers, the novel was actually written on a manual typewriter – according to myth – and the author’s afterword, in my copy.
Weird what a quick web search turns up, even right here in Austin.
But plot, action, characters, all of that goes by the wayside. I did hit on one line that resonated, but I recall that line hitting home, even when I read it the first time. A little foreshadowing. This time, it seemed like it was almost artificial. Could I come up with a better way of saying it? Hardly.
First novels tend to be little more raw, and little more energetic than later works. Maybe not quote as polished, but it’s impressive, and the book does stand up well to rereading.
But most of all, I remember reading it that first time, excitement and awe, thinking I alone had stumbled into some author’s imagination and tapped into something new and exciting. That may be a folly of youth. But it doesn’t mean that it’s not a good book.
