Neuromancer and the Matrix

"Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by millions of legitimate operators, in every nation. [...] A graphic representation of data abstracted from the banks of every computer in the human system. Unthinkable complexity." (Gibson 51)

William Gibson is credited with single-handedly inventing the cyberpunk and steampunk genres. He was the first to coin the term "cyberspace," a term which has become commonplace in computer dialogue. He popularized such acronyms as ICE (Intrusion Countermeasure Electronics), the equivalent of a modern-day firewall, meant to deter viruses or hackers. In the 1980s, immersed in punk and counterculture, Gibson envisioned not so distant, dystopic futures, filled with tragically "hip" anti-heroes who often found themselves at odds with the system. His characters, both hero and villain alike, embraced worlds of sex, drugs, martial arts, high-tech gadgetry, and corporate intrigue. In hindsight, Gibson was, and continues to be, a visionary. His first novel, Neuromancer, published in 1984, is of no exception. It upped the ante on everything that had come before. It created a backdrop, a postmodern blueprint, for what would come after. This article will analyze a few, literary elements of Neuromancer. It will place a particular emphasis on its influence on The Matrix, a popular film of the cyberpunk genre that was released by Andy and Larry Wachowski in 1999. It is hoped an analysis of this sort will shed light on Gibson's contributions to science fiction.

In regard to style, many of the action sequences of The Matrix occur in what is referred to as "bullet-time." Bullet-time, first used in the film Blade (1998), is a visual effect that creates a time distortion for the audience. In the case of The Matrix, and the enhanced abilities of the characters involved, it allows viewers to follow sequences that would otherwise be hypothetically too fast to experience with the human eye. A perfect example of the use of this visual effect can be observed when Neo and Trinity storm a government building and rescue Morpheus from enemy agents. Every pull of a trigger, every flip and kick, are sped down to allow the audience to experience the full effect of the blinding speed in which the characters are able to execute their movements. The use of this effect in The Matrix is not unlike Gibson's vision in that Gibson was able to create the same charged, split-timed immediacy by means of his writing. To illustrate, notice the observations of Case in regard to the abilities of Molly, the samurai of Neuromancer, as she sets herself loose, full-throttle, upon the occupants of Straylight:

"The effect was like tape run at half speed, a slow, deliberate dance choreographed to the killer instinct and years of training. [...] The boy dove. Slender, brown, his form perfect. The grenade left her hand before his hands could cut the water." (Gibson 214)

Molly did not only move like the characters of The Matrix, but she looked like them, as well. Gibson described Molly as a persona who "wore black gloveleather jeans and a bulky black jacket cut from some matte fabric that seemed to absorb light" (25). She sported silver-lensed glasses which were "surgically inset, sealing her sockets" (24). However, quite unlike the film, this added apparel, and Molly's abilities (including razor sharp blades that emerged from beneath her burgundy fingernails), were largely the result of cybernetic enhancements. Molly could not be taught a new talent on the spot, as in The Matrix, when Trinity dials for a helicopter enhancement. Her talents existed in the real world. Her only contact with the matrix was by means of her communication with Case, who could relay and receive information via her digital display: GENERAL GIRLING : : : TRAINED CORTO FOR SCREAMING FIST AND SOLD HIS ASS TO THE PENTAGON : : : (Gibson 190).

Returning again to style, both Neuromancer and The Matrix are heavily influenced by the martial arts. Neo, for example, "jacks in" for a lesson of Kung-Fu and Judo shortly after his arrival. Morpheus furthers Neo's skills by means of instruction and philosophical exploration. As Neo begins to understand the hidden complexities of the matrix, and of himself, his proficiency increases, a common theme in the martial arts. Molly, on the other hand, does not undergo the same transformation. Gibson releases her character into the plot of Neuromancer full-fledged, grown, already street-wise, and possessing more than enough expertise to handle herself. She is, quite literally, the ultimate embodiment of every action story ever told:

"It was a performance. It was like the culmination of a life-time's observation of martial arts tapes, cheap ones, the kind Case had grown up on. For a few seconds, he knew, she was every bad-ass hero, Sony Mao in the old Shaw videos, Mickey Chiba, the whole lineage back to Lee and Eastwood. She was walking it the way she talked it." (Gibson 213)

Finally, in regard to substance, there is the issue of artificial intelligence. Smith, for example, appears to develop a sense of autonomy that is altogether different from the no-nonsense, logical conformity of his fellow agents. During his interrogation of Morpheus, he unplugs himself from their watchful eyes by removing the earpiece that had, before that point, kept him in constant contact. Here, it is fairly evident that Smith has taken a direct step toward a greater sense of self when he chooses to distance himself from the grid. In his actions, perhaps, we become aware of the dichotomy that exists between order and chaos, conformity and non-conformity. If so, it appears that Smith has chosen the later. He taunts Morpheus. In Gibson's work, we find a similar analogy embodied in Wintermute and Neuromancer. Wintermute encompasses all that is logical and of the mind. Neuromancer, on the other hand, is representative of disorder, a bit of madness, and matters of the heart. It is not until the end of the novel that the dual-halves of the artificial intelligence are united:

"I'm not Wintermute now."

"So what are you." He drank from the glass, feeling nothing.

"I'm the matrix, Case."

Case laughed. "Where's that get you?"

"Nowhere. Everywhere. I'm the sum total of the works. The whole show." (Gibson 269)

Is Gibson stating something inherently truthful here? Must inner turmoil, that fierce dichotomy that exists within each and everyone of us, be reconciled before we can consider ourselves whole? It would be no surprise if the results of our technological endeavors struggled with questions a bit like these. After all, an artificial intelligence would be of our own creation, made to mirror the maker. The dual nature of Wintermute and Neuromancer could very well be the embodiment of such an arrangement.

Works Cited

Gibson, William. Neuromancer. New York: Ace, 1984.