Virtual Light [52 Books #11]

Gibson still works wonders with language. He paints landscapes and moods with his choice of words throughout his novels.

Closing his eyes, he centers himself in the background hiss of climate-control. He imagines himself in Tokyo, this room in some new wing of the old Imperial. He sees himself in the streets of Chiyoda-ku, beneath the sighing trains. Red paper lanterns line a narrow lane.
He opens his eyes.
Mexico City is still there.
The eight empty bottles, plastic miniatures, are carefully aligned with the edge of the coffee table: a Japanese vodka, Come Back Salmon, its name more irritating than its lingering aftertaste.
He opens another of the little bottles.
His gaze strays to NHK weather. A low-pressure front is crossing Kansas. Next to it, an eerily calm Islamic downlink ceaselessly reiterates the name of God in a fractal-based cryptography.
He drinks the vodka.
He watches television.

Virtual Light is a basic crime story done up in wonderful makeup and a dress to die for. You have characters filling the old noir roles of the PI, the girl in trouble, the evil plotter, the psycho killer right-hand man. All are twisted to nearly unrecognizable new shapes; the PI is instead a ex-cop, ex-security guard who's a nice guy with a little impulse problem. “Rydell had come to the conclusion that that high crazy thing, that rush of Going For It, was maybe something that wasn't always quite entirely to be trusted.” The girl in trouble starts everything when she steals the macguffin after a guy at a party treats her rudely. The common detective fiction archetypes are all there, including the buddy on the force, but all are done in new, interesting ways.

As a note, I love Sublett. Security guard, lapsed member of the church of television, pacifist, allergy sufferer. Amazing pile of personality quirks; I can imagine Gibson cackling with glee over the keyboard.

The story flows well, quickly, with small diversions to illustrate the San Francisco bridge culture. The item is stolen, the manhunt begins, bodes pile up, the turning point is reached and the story spirals to a climax. The climax is brief, though. It's natural in this world, but it feels rushed in relation to the leise taken over the details of the people and the cultures of L.A. And San Francisco. Really, my only complaint was how the story wrapped up in 10 pages a little too neatly.

To summarize: Gibson's Virtual Light paint a magnificent portrait of a near-future striated world of the powers, the squeezing-by and the semi-homeless. The characters are strong when needed, save for a slightly bland 'hero' mold on Rydell. The story is a bit simple but moves well and leaves you to focus on the portrait, not the message. After more than a decade since reading Gibson's famous cyberpunk stories I'm read to start reading his newer novels again.