Pattern Recognition
The fabulous taro_twist recommended me Pattern Recognition (by William Gibson) after hearing me babble happily about the Sprawl trilogy. I have fallen in love with Gibson's style after a luke-warm start -Neuromancer is not exactly easy-reading given all the things you have to learn about the future/present to get it. But after Burning Chrome, I just can't quit it. I felt short stories are Gibson's finest pieces, not because he doesn't excel at keeping a narrative compelling and interesting, but because he does like to finish things in a whimsical, elliptic way that works best for short stories than longer ones, imho.
When I was in NY, taro_twist reminded me again of Pattern Recognition and because she's really awesome, gave me her copy to read. I am very, very taken with the book, which so far seems to lack the neurotic fast paced action that I found so addicting in the other books, along with the POV changes that always left me wanting to know *more*, but has managed to sublimate the neurosis into a deeper-set obsessive paranoia -I need to know what is going on with this book, because... because I *must*- which in turn has made this story much more personal for me. Sure, it's more personal because the setting and the pop culture is closer to me as a reader and 21st century internet dweller, but also because I know Casey's unsettling jetlag pauses -not only from traveling, but from life, like sometimes your soul doesn't quite catch up with your body and mind because you're forced to move too fast, and it takes time to process it. I think that's something that belongs to our present culture, this travel-less lag. And I know the paranoia. And the obsession. And the feeling that there's something bigger, smarter, more disturbing and cunning that I could ever imagine, and the desire to know what it is overwhelming at times.
And just as information wants to be free, I want to keep that knowledge for myself. Because whatever that big thing on the edge of the collective consciousness is, it's a one in a kind, once in a lifetime kind of thing. And I want to keep it, just so it will always be special. And I can afford such zealotry and egoism because I know many others will find it too, and we will all know this personal knowledge, and somehow it will be shared. Like a new way of knowing. It feels so close to neurosis, sometimes. An altered state of mind, free of substances, provoked by the future.
Pattern Recognition, on paranoia:
Win, the Cold War security expert, ever watchful, had treated paranoia as though it were something to be domesticated and trained. Like someone who'd learned how best to cope with chronic illness, he never allowed himself to think of his paranoia as an aspect of self. It was there, constantly and intimately, and he relied on it professionally, but he wouldn't allow it to spread, become jungle. He cultivated it on its own special plot, and checked it daily for news it might bring: hunches, lateralisms, frank anomalies.
I like that very, very much. I guess I had been approximating my own paranoia in the wrong way, trying to weed it out instead of letting it work for me. Which sounds pretty Batty as well...
BONUS!: Gernsback Continuum, one of the short stories of Burning Chrome -one of my very favorites- can be found in full in that link. Om nom nom. The past will come back to haunt us.
When I was in NY, taro_twist reminded me again of Pattern Recognition and because she's really awesome, gave me her copy to read. I am very, very taken with the book, which so far seems to lack the neurotic fast paced action that I found so addicting in the other books, along with the POV changes that always left me wanting to know *more*, but has managed to sublimate the neurosis into a deeper-set obsessive paranoia -I need to know what is going on with this book, because... because I *must*- which in turn has made this story much more personal for me. Sure, it's more personal because the setting and the pop culture is closer to me as a reader and 21st century internet dweller, but also because I know Casey's unsettling jetlag pauses -not only from traveling, but from life, like sometimes your soul doesn't quite catch up with your body and mind because you're forced to move too fast, and it takes time to process it. I think that's something that belongs to our present culture, this travel-less lag. And I know the paranoia. And the obsession. And the feeling that there's something bigger, smarter, more disturbing and cunning that I could ever imagine, and the desire to know what it is overwhelming at times.
And just as information wants to be free, I want to keep that knowledge for myself. Because whatever that big thing on the edge of the collective consciousness is, it's a one in a kind, once in a lifetime kind of thing. And I want to keep it, just so it will always be special. And I can afford such zealotry and egoism because I know many others will find it too, and we will all know this personal knowledge, and somehow it will be shared. Like a new way of knowing. It feels so close to neurosis, sometimes. An altered state of mind, free of substances, provoked by the future.
Pattern Recognition, on paranoia:
Win, the Cold War security expert, ever watchful, had treated paranoia as though it were something to be domesticated and trained. Like someone who'd learned how best to cope with chronic illness, he never allowed himself to think of his paranoia as an aspect of self. It was there, constantly and intimately, and he relied on it professionally, but he wouldn't allow it to spread, become jungle. He cultivated it on its own special plot, and checked it daily for news it might bring: hunches, lateralisms, frank anomalies.
I like that very, very much. I guess I had been approximating my own paranoia in the wrong way, trying to weed it out instead of letting it work for me. Which sounds pretty Batty as well...
BONUS!: Gernsback Continuum, one of the short stories of Burning Chrome -one of my very favorites- can be found in full in that link. Om nom nom. The past will come back to haunt us.