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Shaping Identity in William Gibson's Neuromancer Essay

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Shaping Identity in William Gibson's Neuromancer

The number “one” is not a thing. Math has no definitive reality. Numbers are a social construct, a system of symbols designed to express the abstractions through which properly developed societies explain aspects of reality. It follows that, as humanity seeks to understand more of what it is to exist, bigger numbers are needed. Soon, we need machines to understand the numbers. Society plants a base on information technology, efficiency, and a mechanical precision that is startling. What is desirable in a product is distilled to a formulaic essence and packaged neatly. Humans, too, are boiled down to science. Glossy shots, red lipstick, concrete biceps, and an ever-decreasing waistline …show more content…

In Gibson’s cyberpunk world, technology and humanity simultaneously clash and meld, creating a society in which humans scramble to interact with technology, using it to gain footholds or augment their actual physical bodies. Humanity, in a sense, ceases to be defined by being human – The Ashpools and Hideo, for instance, are clones, their DNA unoriginal, replicated like the numbers and symbols that make up the infinite information networks of the Sprawl. More apparently, Dixie Flatline is nothing more than a computer program hacked and grifted from a corporation, but he is virtually the only major character in the book that treats Case like a friend without a motive behind it, aside from Linda, who is relatively unimportant to the flow of the story after her initial involvement. (Damyanov) Through this relationship, Dixie gains at least a semblance of humanity, while Case is drawn ever closer to technology. Dixie himself illuminates the question of human intelligence during a conversation with Case:

“…Me, I’m not human either, but I respond like one, see?” “Wait a sec, “ Case said. “Are you sentient, or not?” “Well, it feels like I am, kid, but I’m really just a bunch of ROM. It’s one of them, ah, philosophical questions, I guess…” The ugly laughter sensation rattled down Case’s spine. “But I ain’t likely to wite you no poem, if you follow me.

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