"Burning Chrome" by William Gibson

            In what I'm sure will become an infamous review of mine, my review of Neuromancer was scathing of not only the novel, but of William Gibson as well. I figured his style was great, but I couldn't understand what was going on, as if the narrator he utilized in his story was a drunk telling some randomly garbled story. I figured, after seeing I had a couple of short stories of his, “You know what, his style might better suit him for the short form.”

            Boy was I dead on with that prediction.

            As much as I trashed Gibson before, I must admit, the short story seems to truly be his forte. It is in this form that he can sometimes confuse readers and introduce odd concepts and not be entirely straightforward and still manage to be coherent and perfectly enthralling. I will admit one flaw that Neuromancer had as well, which was sheer predictability, but I'd otherwise recommend “Burning Chrome”, set in the same universe, far more. Every single problem I had with Neuromancer was not a problem at all here.

            For starters, similar terms are used here within this story, and one, ice, is even described to some degree, enough for most to understand, and much like Neuromancer, it's creative in its descriptions of surroundings (this case being better, obviously). Beyond that, there is no real break up in the scenes that would entail missing anything important. That was the biggest problem Neuromancer had, and it seems to be thanks in part to a greater-utilized narrator, one who seems sobered, intelligent, and ultimately human. In fact, all of the characters were people I could care about, even the people who are kind of jerks. The narrator actually cares about and describes in great fashion the other characters and how he feels about them. That is exactly the kind of person I want to read about, and I didn't get that in Neuromancer.

            Which brings me to my most pressing question: What happened to you, Gibson? What changed in you from the time you wrote this excellent short story to writing Neuromancer? It was, after all, a short couple of years. Were you stressed by time constraints? Was the novel truly unfinished? Seems like it was, despite the excellent writing otherwise. Or did you really think the story was great as it was? If not, did the editor think otherwise? Somehow, that seems to be the case with the general audience, who seem to be overlooking this wonderful gem for that. That, to me, is a shame.

            For everyone else who dislikes Neuromancer like I do (as if I haven't said it enough), I still strongly recommend “Burning Chrome” to you. I seriously doubt you'll be disappointed with this one.

            Additional Super Fun Fact: Chromium is a chemical element which has a high rate of corrosion resistance and is quite hard. Keep this in mind while reading the story.

"How Beautiful With Banners" by James Blish

            When it comes to James Blish, he seems to be an excellent writer, if sometimes difficult to understand at times. I had only read “Surface Tension” before reading this story, and I loved it, and saw why it was voted by the Science Fiction Writers of America as one of the greatest short stories written before the founding of the Nebula awards. Because I, too, loved “Surface Tension”, I wanted to read more of his stories, and managed to find this little short piece.

            I honestly wasn't enthralled with this story as much as “Surface Tension”, which was disappointing. This story makes the same mistake that Neuromancer makes: style over substance. Makes me wonder if “Surface Tension” was just a fluke.

            However, I will not completely deride this story. Frankly, it's quite short. Had it been novel-length, and been like it was the whole way through, I wouldn't have finished it. Being less than twenty pages makes the story more bearable. Because of this, it can be considered a practice piece. Seems to me, because of the concentration on style, James Blish was showing off his skills, and I will admit, despite the story not really existing much here, his skill in creative writing and symbolism is truly admirable, if at times ridiculous as well.

            It is an interesting little puzzle to configure to be sure, but Blish I guess couldn't help but put in a bit of strangeness, particularly involving the cloak described within. Hello surrealism, thy name is science fiction. If, however, all of the strangeness is pieced together, you essentially get a moving characterization in the form of an emotionally torn woman trapped in her own personal bubble.

            If I said much more, I would be revealing too much for those who want to dig their grubby little fingers into the confection and seek to unravel the mystery (likely with their own interpretation) for themselves. For this story, I cannot do that. You will simply have to read it, and for a good example of purely symbolic literature, I recommend you do, especially if you'd like to practice your analytical skills. If you expect anything other than that, you will likely hate this story, so if you want to read something purely for entertainment value, stay away from this one. If you want to seek out what is pretty much mindless science fiction, look to some of the pulps or A. E. van Vogt or something like that.

"Piecework" by David Brin

            I have, unfortunately, not read much of David Brin's work. I have, however, read the first chapter of The Postman, and I was absolutely enthralled by the story. I would love to purchase the book and read it further, and maybe more of Brin's work, because, though I haven't read much yet, I can already tell he's a writer well worth delving into. After reading the first chapter of The Postman, though, I wanted to see if I happened to have any sort of short fiction of his (I knew I didn't have any novels). I happened to find one story, “Piecework”.

            I will admit, I have only finished it once, and it wasn't terribly long ago. I still don't understand certain intricacies, like why exactly the profession the title refers to, that of using women as surrogates for various products, is called piecework in the first place. I don't know if it's a simple usage, such as simply implying women are producing pieces of various technology and such, or a symbolic usage, such as the double entendre potentially implied with the title (piecework/peacework), but something like this doesn't seem to be entirely necessary for understanding the whole story and its implications.

            The implications, on the other hand, I do understand. For the most part, anyway. The society featured within the story seems to be reliant on pure emotional and pleasurable instinct, taking the philosophy of hedonism to its peak, even to the point where some will attempt to stop those who seek to break the mold. Because of this, society is saturated by basic primal instincts, such as sex and hunger, and various pleasurable influences, including drugs and television. In fact, the television shows described in particular are soap operas, which are shows which tend to represent what society in general goes through, and they usually rely on the primal urges of humankind to increase the drama represented. This further shows how addicted to constant pleasure the people are, so much so that they seem to need it on a persistent basis, always seeming to need some kind of fix lest they break down.

            It's even how they live, hence is how the profession the title represents grants people the ability to continue to survive. At least, that's the case most of the time. Products seem to be transferred through impregnation, but another option that is available is through simple implantation of eggs without intercourse (at least, that's how I'm understanding it, I could be wrong; if so, I'll take another look at a later time). The main character, Ia, goes the latter route within the story, which helps characterize her. She is the intellectual type on the path to success, not reliant on her emotions to get by in life, and therefore seems to be an overall more mature character than her counterparts. This is further confirmed by the quite positive ending of the story, which is perfectly fitting for this story, and I don't think could've ended any other way, because the ending shows exactly why the society featured in the story shuns climbing the ladder.

            Brilliantly done, Mr. Brin. If I could stand up and applaud in front of you, I would. Interesting and exquisitely written, the story itself was a pleasure to read. I eagerly look forward to reading more works of yours.

            Additional super fun fact: This story totally has no religious symbolism in it. There is no way Ia has anything to do with the Virgin Mary and the whole criticism of hedonism has no ties to any religious ideology whatsoever, particularly Christianity.