Neuromancer (William Gibson, pub. 1984) was published when I was six years old, won a ton of awards, and put a lot of juice in the cyberpunk sub-genre. (All I know about cyberpunk I learned on Wikipedia, but basically I take it as a kind of sci-fi-noir that (usually?) incorporates lots of networky technology.)

I was drawn to the book for two reasons (I mean, aside from the fact that it’s a sci-fi novel. Duh.). First, I wanted something good. I don’t get to read sci-fi very often, so no time for garbage. Neuromancer was the first novel to win all three big sci-fi awards, and it’s on lots of “best of” lists, so it seemed promising. Second, I wanted something dystopian (More Blade Runner than Star Trek); I don’t know, maybe it’s a phase I’m in. Anyways, Neuromancer seemed to fit the bill on both counts.

With some eagerness, I picked it up from the library and then burned through it (it’s not too long) in about three days. It is a difficult book for me to review because I have not done any systematic reading in science fiction for more than a decade and am sort of fuzzy on what I’m comparing it to. Moreover, it’s been a bout six weeks since I finished it.

The characters are forgettable. I can say that with confidence because six weeks later I don’t remember any of their names–a very bad sign and definitely not the case with my favorite novels. There’s the hacker. The ninja-assassin girl. The psycho ex-spec ops officer. The creepy heiress. They stick with me more as representatives of those types than as actual people. In retrospect, I’m actively annoyed by the lack of meaningful relationships between any of the characters. They work together; they sleep together; but they don’t really care for each other, and I so much wanted them to.

The technology was interesting. The main character is a hacker who (like all hackers in the novel) interacts with the Net on the level of consciousness–that is, he “jacks in” to it by attaching electrodes to his head. Moreover, it is possible for users so electroded to live-stream the consciousness of other humans: hear what they hear; see what they see–a cool idea that is well-used in the novel to forward the plot and makes for some complicated but well and clearly written action sequences.

The setting is a future dominated by mega-corporations, copious amounts of cosmetic or performance enhancing cybernetics and drugs, and a clear divide between the very rich and the very poor. A soulless future seen from its urban underbelly.

The plot centers on the now familiar “potentially dangerous sentient AI” trope, which is fine. It moves along nicely with a good balance of action, uncertainty, and cleverness. But there’s nothing at stake. I wasn’t lead to really believe in or care for the characters anymore than they did (or didn’t) for each other.

Looking back from six weeks on, Neuromancer brings to mind some interesting technology and action sequences and a dark and depressing feeling. Nothing more. The novel shared the existential experience of soulless people existing bleakly on adrenaline. No teaching, and only marginal delight. Neither Sidney nor Poe would approve.

Skip it for Dune or (especially) Ender’s Game (followed immediately by Speaker of the Dead) unless you’re an official Sci-Fi Fan, in which case, you sort of have to read it.