Not Neuromancer, But Nice For Novices

Idoru by William Gibson

William Gibson is widely credited with inventing the phrase cyberspace and the entire cyberpunk sub genre with the publication of his seminal work, Neuromancer. I am always skeptical of claims made that a founding father slept in a certain room or that anyone invented anything, a jaded affliction from which I've suffered long before Vice President Gore made his unfortunate remarks regarding the Internet.

But Gibson's claim to fame was made while most of the world began blasting its way into an information age unparalleled in history. Surely if someone was inclined to claim they created the genre, that person would have done so by now. That is not to say that the entire concept was created in a vacuum; nothing is anymore.

Giving Gibson his due for Neuromancer and several excellent follow-ups, one wonders why so many writers fall short when attempting to emulate his work. Surely writing about computers, mixed with neurology, futurism and computers is not an overly taxing game. The fact that you are almost certainly reading this review on a computer simply underscores the prevalence of computer knowledge. Add some innovative projections available dirt cheap on cable television, the web or the basement of the kid next door who moonlights as a dungeon master and your setting is almost complete.

The problem is that few, if any, write as well in this genre as Gibson does when he is clicking on all cylinders. His dialogue zings, and skimmers are forewarned now that his excessively brief narrative must be closely read because each word matters in this alien environment. In the years since the release of Neuromancer, legions of writers have attempted to follow in Gibson's footsteps. One may some day find the path an easy one to tread. Until then, most will continue writing a pale imitation of the man who brought cyberpunk to the world.

Unfortunately, Idoru reads as if one of those authors, rather than Gibson, had written the book.

The Plot In 100 Words

Chia is a 14 year old fan of the band Lo Rez and junior grade hacker. Particularly fixated on Rez, the artistic and moody member, she travels to Japan to learn the truth when he announces plans to marry a software construct. Doing so also inadvertently embroils her in a smuggling scheme. The parallel story features hacker Colin Haney who finds "nodal points", areas of data about a single person that can be aggregated to form a behavioral model. Haney, disgraced at his last job, is hired by Lo Rez' management company to also uncover the truth about the singer.

What Works Well

Gibson continues to meld society and science as well as anyone. He adds culture to the mix in Idoru. Gibson discussed the role of a "the business of celebrity in our hypermediated society" with Salon.com. Many others have explored this theme, but few have done as well as Gibson. His portrayal of Rez and Lo are a rock star's dream. One can imagine, U2's Bono playing the role. Gibson says that he and the U2 band members are "on speaking terms", which is evident throughout the story. A better choice would have been a younger Sting or Bowie fighting over the role should a movie ever be made.

Gibson also begins a foray into nanotechnology, but like the use of quantum physics in Michael Crichton's Timeline, the science applied here seems more of the Star Trek caliber than anything that would please a scientist.

The vision of the Internet and concept of nodal points is the most appealing part of the story. Data specialists already sift through the web, compiling competitive and other types of intelligence. Should a skilled hacker in Gibson's universe choose to do so, an analysis of spending habits, postings by and about the subject and the other thousands of bits of information available could be added to a psychological profile to create a model for future behavior. That fascinating concept now seems commonplace in a Gibson novel, although readers must not forget that he is foremost a thinker and then a writer.

What Doesn't Work As Well

A societal issue and a pragmatic issue may be interfering with the caliber of Gibson's later works. As use of the Internet continues spreading throughout the globe, the concept of data matrices, hackers and indeed, the entire cyberpunk mentality has became common. Gibson does little groundbreaking work here, instead churning through a story more accessible to mainstream readers. He still has not reached that level, however, and Idrou remains a book that will best be enjoyed by fans of the genre. This introduces the pragmatic issue. One can't help but wonder if Gibson is dumbing down his work - albeit only slightly - to appeal to a broader audience.

Much of the style Gibson exhibits in early work is missing here. For example, the relationship between Chia and her friends and acquaintances are often awkwardly handled and foreshadowed with the subtlety more often displayed by Yosemite Sam. Gibson also writes of the intense fan experience, literally that of the fanatic, in a more clinical rather than passionate way, but the narrator is observing Chia at the time and lacks passion. Finally, the portrayal of Russian organized crime is an area that Gibson himself has publicly stated could use improvement. One must simply accept that the portrayal of the Russians as bumblers is the result of ignorance in the subject matter rather than a bit of nationalism peeking through for the country of his birth.

The Bottom Line

Hardcore Gibson fans will not mind this book, but may find its simplicity somewhat disappointing. Of his works, this may be the best choice for a cyberpunk neophyte to start with. There are none of Neuromancer's total immersion requirements nor the historical setting of The Difference Engine. Once hooked by Gibson's style, and the man does write well, readers can move on to other titles in his backlist.