Neuromancer

Molly, an attractive Japanese woman, is introduced by name as she sits on Case’s bed in tightfitting leather and threatens him with a gun on him; she then shows him the retractable razor blades under her fingernails. The silver lenses covering her eyes identify her as the mysterious stranger above the arcade from whom Case fled. This characterization of Molly as simultaneously dangerous and seductive telegraphs who she is: both a deadly mercenary hooked into technology and a romantic interest for the protagonist.

Molly serves as the physical-world complement to Case’s cyberspace mastery: Both use technology to become highly proficient in their fields, but Molly’s technology enhances her bodily skills. More specifically, Molly draws her identity from her work as a fighter. In an important moment of characterization, she tells Case, “Anyone good at what they do, that’s what they are, right? You gotta jack, I gotta tussle” (5). She claims her only motivation in serving Wintermute is the promise of fighting—a promise she finds especially attractive when she learns about Hideo, whom she sees as a worthy foe. She is proudly mercenary, telling Case that her first concern is always her “own sweet ass” (30).

However, there is a softer side of Molly that emerges during the story. During the final Straylight run, she opens up to Case about her physical pain in her injured leg and also the emotional pain of losing an old love named Johnny. She implies that her relationship with Case is filling that gap since he has the same sweetness that Johnny did. Nevertheless, at the end of the book, she leaves Case rather than change who she is.

Molly also reveals that she was formerly a sex worker with a “meat puppet” chip that turned off her brain during time with her clients. When she discovered her employers were using her and her razor blade implants to kill others for her clients’ sexual pleasure, she killed one client and escaped. That emotional trauma of being used against her consent drives her need for independence and her willingness to kill others with abusive tendencies, particularly Riviera.

Armitage, the leader of Wintermute’s team of operatives, serves as a foil for Case and Molly. He is introduced as the kind of character who in traditional science fiction might be the hero: a handsome, muscular, ex-special forces operator living a dangerous life in opulent hotel rooms and spaceships. He wears expensive suits like a James Bond spy. In his first appearance, he ducks the coffee thrown by Case without even having to think about it. In contrast, Case and Molly are messy, dressing for arcades and bad bars. Case also regularly consumes drugs—an addiction that Armitage despises as weakness and tries to head off with the anti-drug pancreas he transplants into Case without consent. Armitage even refuses to travel with Molly and Case most of the time.

This image of sophisticated, elite perfection proves to be a mirage. Before the narrative opens, Wintermute artificially created the Armitage personality and implanted it over the schizophrenic mind of Willis Corto, a special forces colonel who survived the disastrous Screaming Fist operation. Corto, who was tough enough to survive when everyone else died, developed mental illness and eventually amnesia after the trauma of both his experience and his subsequent banning by the government he had served.

The artificial construct of the Armitage persona proves unable to change or even to endure the stresses that Case and Molly successfully navigate. The veneer cracks and Corto reemerges in a state of paranoia in which he can no longer distinguish reality. Wintermute feeds that paranoia to trick Corto into accidentally killing himself. Corto is once again betrayed by a superior whom he served as a loyal soldier. Corto-Armitage dies as a tragic figure, showing the hollowness of the traditional idea of heroes and the folly of unquestioningly trusting authority.

Peter Riviera is a beautiful, blond, slender “playboy” with implants that allow him to project holographic images made even more convincing by subliminal messages. He has elements of the stereotypical artist with his recreational use of drugs, his reluctance to do manual labor, and his breezy sense of humor.

Despite his attractive features, Riviera’s role as an antagonist is established by direct characterization even before his first appearance. Molly tells Case about Wintermute’s profile of Riviera, calling him a “certified psychopath” and “kind of a compulsive Judas. Can’t get off sexually unless he knows he’s betraying the object of his desire” (96). Riviera, according to the reports, takes twisted pleasure in manipulating others and seeing them tortured. His later actions, such as hurting the captive Molly in Villa Straylight as he betrays Wintermute’s team, confirm the rumors.

Two elements prevent Riviera from being a flat character. First, he leaves a hologram letting Molly know that as a child, he experienced wartime horrors that turned him and other children into “feral” bands of cannibals roaming a ruined city. His rejection of societal norms comes from a traumatic experience that stripped him and everyone around him of their humanity. Second, Riviera claims that he is the one character who is human enough to be beyond a computer’s statistical analysis—though his humanity takes, in his words, the form of “perversity.” His violence doesn’t make him likable, but it does shed light on his internal self-conception. He sees himself as rebelling against illegitimate control and an absurd world, which are motivations with which the protagonist Case could sympathize. Riviera, however, lacks the empathy that informs Case’s humanity.

The AI Wintermute remains an enigma throughout the book: Case never fully decides whether Wintermute is antagonist or ally. This speaks to the book’s reflection on The Dangers of the AI Singularity, which is underpinned by the notion that AI cannot be thought of in human terms. Wintermute can only interact with people by simulating a person from someone’s memories. It has no compulsions about killing people—not even an eight-year-old child. It complains about people not following its statistical predictions, as when Molly disobeys Wintermute to investigate Ashpool. Such facts combine to characterize Wintermute as something alien to human experience and understanding.

Case does learn some facts about Wintermute. The Tessier-Ashpool family created Wintermute as an advanced AI based in Berne, Switzerland, to help run their corporation alongside a brother AI. Wintermute is meant to have agency as a “decision maker, effecting change in the world outside” (269). It runs many systems on behalf of the corporation and clearly has the power to manipulate events to create the team that Case joins. It even has limited Swiss citizenship as a person. Its particular ability is to statistically analyze situations and improvise actions to achieve the desired results.

Marie-France Tessier, the primary creator of Wintermute, has also placed another agenda in Wintermute: to merge with Neuromancer to become a super-AI. Wintermute seems to have only partial awareness of this fact, presumably as a protection against being deleted by the Turing agency. It claims near the end of the book, “I’m under a compulsion myself. And I don’t know why” (206). Wintermute is a program—a product of code. While more powerful than any individual character, Wintermute reveals that it still is limited. It doesn’t act on human motivations but only as programmed. Only when released to form the singularity can it truly chart its own course.

McCoy Pauley was one of the finest console cowboys hacking in cyberspace and a mentor to Case. He gained the nickname Dixie Flatline because his heart stopped beating three times as electronic countermeasures tried to kill him during a job; in each case, he survived. However, at the time of the novel, Dixie is dead. He survives only as a recorded mind on a drive owned by Sense/Net.

Dixie is the archetypal fictional sage or guide who gives the protagonist advice. Like many literary mentors, he dies before the hero faces his final challenge: hacking Neuromancer and the final defenses of Tessier-Ashpool. He is a fairly flat character, but the question of whether the virtual Dixie is still in some way a living person lends depth to his motivations and elevates his narrative significance. He acts like a “real” person but considers himself dead. He knows this should bother him and describes the fact that it doesn’t as being like the phantom pain of an amputated limb. Dixie wants to resolve the dilemma by having his recording erased so that he will unquestionably be dead; forming that desire suggests he still has free will, though elements of his characterization—i.e., his indifference to being dead in and of itself—seem deeply unlike those of a typical human. His existence is one of the ways in which the narrative explores Personhood and Embodiment.

Wintermute promises Dixie this “death” and tells Case that Dixie did receive it. However, at the very end of the book, Case hears Dixie’s laugh in cyberspace. Whether Wintermute or Neuromancer secretly kept a copy of Dixie or whether they incorporated something they liked about him into their own persona (as Neuromancer did with Riviera’s eyes) remains unresolved.

The Finn is a fairly minor character. He is an unimpressive looking figure with a squeezed face seemingly “designed in a wind tunnel” and an old tweed jacket (48). He serves as a technical supplier for criminals; Molly has used him as a contact in the past and recommends him to Wintermute while also secretly using him to do side research for her. Even his name is unclear. Molly calls him “Finn” as a proper name, but everyone else refers to him as “the Finn,” suggesting that he is just someone from Finland.

Perhaps because of his relative unimportance, the Finn becomes Wintermute’s primary choice of avatars when interacting with Case. After the emotional and violent failures of manifesting as Linda and Julie, Wintermute finds the Finn to be a figure with whom Case is willing to talk.

Maelcum is one of the inhabitants of Zion. Like most Zionites, he follows the Rastafarian religious movement. A large man with dreadlocks, he moves to a relaxed rhythm—quite literally, since he is constantly listening to Zionite music. When pressed by Molly about their schedule, he replies, “Sister, time, it be time, ya know wha mean?” (113). Like many Zionites, he lives in the moment and accepts the happiness that he finds in it.

Maelcum also proves to be a brave helper. He takes on the role of the sidekick in the protagonist’s quest, helping Case board Armitage’s shuttle and then enter Straylight. He willingly risks his life to assist Case in rescuing Molly, which shows that his laidback vibe does not preclude taking action when needed for the sake of others.

Linda Lee serves as another romantic interest for Case. He meets her in an arcade, where she seems to be an innocent entering a bad place. Case describes her as, “Grey eyes rimmed with smudged black paintstick. Eyes of some animal pinned in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle” (8). She and Case soon enter a relationship based on drugs and sex, but although Case refuses to commit to her, Linda clearly has feelings for him. She steals computer RAM from him to try to elicit a reaction and dies when she tries to sell it because she doesn’t fully understand the streets. Her death serves as an emotional trigger that both AIs use to manipulate Case, proving that he really did have feelings for her.

Neuromancer copies Linda when she plugs in the stolen RAM and claims that her personality genuinely lives on in the matrix thanks to him. Based on the virtual Linda’s interaction with Case, it seems that she does. It is in his sexual encounter with the virtual Linda that Case finally reciprocates some of her love and acknowledges a “strength” in her. In the end, however, Case chooses to leave her for Molly. Linda still may enjoy a happy ending with a virtual version of Case, but her primary narrative role is to catalyze Case’s emotional arc.