Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson

Magyar változat

I promised for myself not to write about the Snow Crash, but I rarely keep promises were taken to myself (something about self-respect), moreover this book is incredibly good for demostrating a huge bunch of different kind of literary errors, mistakes, faults, weakness and the general state of the Hungarian science fiction (I promise you will be protected against that part. Please be satisfied with three words only: it is pathetic.), thus I can’t help spitting up to the thin air and stand under that slymy rain.

This is not a good book, according to a tiresomely long explanation: 'cause it‘s a cyberpunk written by an epigone, not by Gibson – almost two decades ago.

This is not a good book, according to a somewhat shorter explanation: 'cause it‘s a cyberpunk written by an epigone, not by Gibson.

This is not a good book, according to a short explanation: 'cause it‘s a cyberpunk.

This is simply not a good book.

If you are not hurt to death by the first time, let’s expand the long version first. The main element here is the obsoleteness (just the sake of the favorite word of the newest wave of the cyberpunk). The novel present such technologies which were obsolete the very moment of the book, it extrapolate future tendencies from such problems which have been (dis)solved (in)by the time. It applies such literature tools which are obsolete again. However, probably all of those obsolete things would have never been happened if this book is not a bad book according to the shorter verdict too.

Gibson’s talent and his generous visions of future is almost entirely missing from Stephenson. Extrapolation is forbidden in science, it’s at least risky even in science fiction. Stephenson visioned the Metaverse, his own version of cyberspace –a kind of virtual space extrapolated from the 1990 level of computer science. That would be a honorable achievement alone, if Gibson didn’t create the more real, more authentic, and operational version of the virtual/cyberspace – ten years before. Ignoring that entirely is worse than a crime – it’s a blunder. Mentioning the most obvious fact only, that is, Gibson’s console (it has no too much technical details – wisely) operates as some kind of neuronal interface, which is allowing the user to control his/her activities in the cyberspace. Stephenson generously forgot about that little fact that the technology what he described is really not allow neither animation of any physical activities or data handling in his Metaverse. That gogles provides mostly one-way data flow: from the Metaverse to the user. It’s unclear how data get into the Metaverse from the user. I think the computers follow the user physical activities: movements, eye-position, or talk. So if the user wants to get somewhere in the Mataverse he/she must walk in the real world, etc. Indeed, Hiro one times found himself out of his place – when he fought a sword fight. But this is controversial: it’s hard to imagine how this kind of control works in the case of the public booths (reduced space) or with the so called gargoyles (how the all time connected user‘s real actions are synchronized with the Metaverse actions?). Gibson knew that this kind of “control” never works and carefully avoided to ridicule himself with sinking in doubtful technical details.

Gibson has never been a computer geek – Stephenson is proud of his computer skills.

And he mixed everything up. The very conflict of the novel, the Snow Crash virus infecting the hackers’ brains is a little bit ridiculous and greatly unlikely. Rewireing the brain by ones profession is not entirely impossible but rewireing the hackers’ brains by binary codes is quite unlikely. The simple fact is that for the early ‘80s, programmers have rarely worked with binary codes. (In Hungary, with that nice time shift what was caused by the Cold War. ideology, COCOM list, etc. in 1984 we start programming in FORTRAN and no longer with punchcard or tapes – so we didn’t need to involve in binary codes.) Programmers have worked with assembly-code as the minimal level of coding since when. Our brain remained intact. Like all the next generations’ brains are. And Hiro Protagonist, according to the novel-time, just was born around that time. Even if we oversight this generously, one should know that even working with binary code means working with zeros and ones, not working with black and white pixels, thus, the connection between a binary wired brain and a bitmap is dubious.

And I can dump here a lot of similar technology and scientific (historical, mythological, and linguistic) nonsense occurred in the novel but I think it’s useless. If you are a cyberpunk fanatic you will be never able to recognize and even admit such errors and if you aren’t one the abovementioned stuff should be enough.

I rather immerse into the writing quality of the novel, which is in close connection with my third verdict, that is, this book is not good ‘cause it’s a cyberpunk.
I was a cyberpunk fan when I was a kid (OK, I admit actually I was 27 when I read Neuromancer) but my enthusiasm quickly evaporated as the magic of the novelty worn out. When I read more Gibson, especially I read more cyberpunk from other authors.
What Gibson did was simply stalking postmodern into science fiction and that time it was fashionable and a revolutionary act. But he never overstepped this invention and the result is more damaging recently than the positive effects was brought into the genre that time. Mostly because the epigones used Gibson’s style and themes as a fashionable outfit. Without his visions and clarity and wide ken. Cyberpunk became a big swindle, when self made geniuses make the illusion of knowledge, wisdom and vision. The style exthausted, became its own parody. See the Accelerando by Charless Stross. And all of this is started with the books like this. Because this novel build around jokes. Such jokes which are circulating in male college dormitories and between long term high school pals. The residential communities became independent countries, muhaha-bruhaha, pizza delivery as a major mafia business, muhaha-bruhaha, calling the protagonist of a novel actually Protagonist and Hiro on a fake Japanese name, actually spell hero, muhaha-bruhaha, etc. Not to mention some low level antifeminin joke. (In this field there have been some progress since when: the Accelerando contains only one pun referring to tampons.) Along this text you have a feeling that you are the witness of adolescent boys parade to impress – not even to impress girls – but to impress each other. The themes (gadgets, choppers, weapons, samurai swords, pizza, dope, hackers, computer games, the sex as just some legendary stuff) the handling of the female characters (distance, cool and inaccessible, adored lady or the tomboy pal from next door or your mother) and the style – all of them supports the feeling that you are the company of adolescent boys.

And here we are at my last verdict: this is not a good book – itself. From the beginning those immature jokes, page long explanations about how – an otherwise inoperable – virtual world works, page long explanations and descriptions of a future what is not else just a joke. There are virtual sword fights – virtual ones, because the writer uses the Japanese swords as nice patterns on an oversweetened, inedible birthday cake. There are long, wild, mostly rootless linguistic, mythological and historical speculations, with the only apparent purpose – to impress readers. And, contrapuncting this virtual wisdom, there are events rather fitting in low category action movies. The fiction-time is entirely obscure, if someone takes some time and pieces it out from the fragments of information, it gives as approximately 2004. Inside this time frame, the real times of scenes and events are totally confused – I think it’s not some stylistic trick. It’s entirely accidental. The figures in the novel are not only fictitious – they are not living characters. Their life is a virtual life – in an inoperable virtual world.
And, first of all, there is the author’s protruding, self-advertising ego. If he invented some stylistic or linguistic novelty (at least he thinks it is) he repeats that endlessly. Even if, somehow, the reader didn’t catch it – he explains it (loglo – glowing logo).
Considering the word „franchise“ – it’ s even not an invention –, what is the most frequently used word in this novel, there was a point, when I almost totally gave up further reading.
And I cannot forgive that trick, when he gives a well sounding wisdom into the mouth of a character and, some lines later, a second character adores this sentence, declaring how intelligent was the first character saying that. Gimme a break! Who is the sage advertised here? A fictive character or her author?
That’s enough.
I’ll try to struggle with the Diamond Age. We will see.

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