As I reached the end of William Gibson’s Neuromancer, I was struck by the novel’s interesting use of time. Throughout the story, the measure of time was shown as a fluid concept, starting with the abstract Dali clock hanging at Julius Deane’s place. Defeating its purpose, “it never told the correct time” (12). Back in Chiba City, our protagonist Case didn’t really have a use for counting the hours, since he was merely passing time until he died. If anything, time seemed to drag on.
Once Case got hired by Armitage, deadlines were forced upon him to cut through Sense/Net’s defenses and to catch transport to the next location. Alternatively, his cowboy job jacked him into a world where time was practically meaningless. When he worked, “he lost track of days” (58). Cyberspace did not follow the same constraints of the real world. Wintermute even told Case that “an hour here’ll only take you a couple of seconds” (164). Essentially, in the matrix, external time stood still.
Using a completely different philosophy, the Zionites refused to conform to the concept of time. On two separate occasions, Case asked Maelcum if he ever thought “in hours” (110) and whether he’s “got a watch” (223). The Zionite simply shook his dreadlocked head and stated “time be time” (224). I guess their culture took life one day at a time.
The story typically contained general mentions of passing hours and minutes. However, it was not until the two main operations that action switched to detailed calculations by the second. The first glimpse of this intentional accuracy appeared when Molly raided the Sense/Net complex to steal the Dixie Flatline construct. Her optic nerve flashed the precise moment throughout that first break-in. During the climatic invasion of Straylight, the repetitive use of the hour:minute:second formula increased to heighten the sense of urgency. You’ve gotta move, as time is of the essence.
Case was the one character who rapidly switched between the various concepts of time, especially towards the end of the book. When he hooked into the simstim unit, he looked through Molly’s eyes to monitor each second. Once he was pulled back into the real world, he slowed down to the relaxed rhythm of the Zionites and their music. When he flipped into cyberspace, time lost all Earthly meaning and eternity reigned. Through these three worlds, he jumped from controlled time to casual intervals to non-existent measurements. I’m amazed that he could keep track of time.
The last image of the novel was Wintermute with the late Riviera’s eyes, the non-corporal Linda (yes, she just won’t die!) and Case looking at a version of himself. Is eternity really waiting us in a virtual world? Only time will tell.
