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William GibsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Capitalism and consumerism are important concepts in the stories collected in Burning Chrome, but the stories also focus on the discarded and leftover elements of their economic and cultural systems. Images of old, broken, and reused equipment and objects populate the collection. These elements simultaneously symbolize cultural decay and the resourcefulness and ingenuity of characters.
Parker from “Fragments of a Hologram Rose,” who is addicted to his ASP machine, demonstrates how characters subsist on broken technology. The ASP machine is Parker’s link to memories of Angela, but tangible reminders of her existence—a broken strap from her sandal, a hologram postcard that he shreds in the garbage disposal—are even more poignant. He calls these discarded objects “evidence of love” (39). Parker is barely hanging on, as the broken items around him emphasize. In contrast, the landscape of Nighttown, home of the Lo Teks in “Johnny Mnemonic,” is an example of how characters repurpose discarded items. The group has built their home, an entire section of the city, out of garbage; Johnny calls it a “disused maintenance yard, stacked with triangular roofing segments. Everything there had been covered with that same uniform layer of spraybomb graffiti” (15). He later refers to part of it as a “junkyard.” Though they live on the fringes of society, the Lo Teks have chosen to reject the technological progress of mainstream culture and instead built their own world from cultural leftovers.
Rubin from “The Winter Market,” however, provides the most definitive philosophizing on the significance of garbage and repurposed items. Casey calls him the “Gomi no sensei. Master of junk” for obsessively collecting “garbage, kipple, refuse, the sea of cast-off goods our century floats on” (126). At one point, Casey observes Rubin navigating through boxes of his stuff, giving a litany of junk: “lithium batteries, tantalum capacitors, RF connectors, breadboards, […] the severed heads of hundreds of Barbie dolls […] industrial safety gauntlets” (134). “Kipple” is an allusion to science fiction author Philip K. Dick, who defined the word in his novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? as useless objects that seem to multiply themselves. Rubin is a kind of historian of past relics, a constant reminder that the material world of the present is built on the consumerist productivity of the past. In this sense, his gomi resembles a literal manifestation of the “semiotic ghosts” mentioned in “The Gernsback Continuum”—ideas that impact culture in an almost subliminal way. In another sense, his construction of a home out of garbage exemplifies the cyberpunk ability to modify whatever technological material is at hand in the service of survival.
Capitalist economies and technology converge at various instances of Burning Chrome in a fascination with consumer media products, usually digital in nature. Overall, media ranging from magazines and cassettes to games and virtual reality devices provide characters with a means for escaping reality, or for imagining alternatives to it. As science fiction is itself a consumer product, Gibson’s stories reveal self-conscious analysis of the impact of media.
Written in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Gibson’s stories in this collection foresaw the increasing prevalence and impact of personal electronic devices. For instance, Parker from “Fragments of a Hologram Rose” is highly dependent on the ASP cassette player that allows him to experience memories and dreams in virtual reality and to escape the woes of his existence. Deke’s obsession with the virtual reality game Fokkers and Spads in “Dogfight” similarly recognizes the significant cultural impact of video games. “The Winter Market” investigates the impact of celebrity and media, with Lise being promised “[y]ou’re going to be a very famous person soon” as she begins to break into the virtual reality video market (136). In each case, characters turn to their respective media and devices in pursuit of something they feel is lacking in their lives: Parker seeks to relive experiences with his ex-lover Angela, Deke is chasing the thrill of victory to compensate for a life he feels is insignificant, and Lise pursues celebrity to compensate for her hidden vulnerabilities.
“Dogfight” positions Deke’s story as a cautionary tale that an obsession with digital media can be damaging: In the end, he loses everyone who cared for him. In general, however, Gibson’s exploration of consumer media is more ambiguous. Nowhere is this more evident than in “The Gernsback Continuum.” The story takes a retrospective look at earlier forms of consumer media, like “Gernsback pulps” (classic science fiction magazines) or “The Bionic Man and all those Star Trek reruns” (30). “The Gernsback Continuum” serves as a reminder that all media have the potential to make a semiotic impact, both through consumers’ choice of products and through the determination of which media are promoted by market powers in capitalist systems.
The stories in Burning Chrome look at hypothetical intersections of technology and large-scale forces like consumerism, politics, and media, investigating how technology might impact society on a structural level in the near future. At the same time, there are significant moments when the stories look at how technology and humans interface on much more intimate scales, including how human bodies are technologically altered. Burning Chrome uses mentions of cyborgs and modifications of bodies to explore the extent and implications of the human–technology interface.
“Johnny Mnemonic” presents body modifications at the start of the collection, including the Yakuza assassin’s thumb, which has been designed to contain a monomolecular wire he uses to slash his victims. The cyborg Molly Millions, with blades that “snicked straight out from their recesses beneath her nails” (8), is an even more formidable character. Her fearsome, sleek, technologically altered body parallels her confidence and savvy as a character. Lise from “The Winter Market” provides a contrary example. Her beauty and magnetism result in star power and celebrity status, but the exoskeleton that covers her body betrays her insecurities and vulnerabilities; the “pencil-thin polycarbon prosthetic” device suggests that technological body modifications also represent characters’ attempts to address shortcomings (128). Her disappearance implies that neither celebrity nor technological manipulations of bodies can erase what Casey calls “human” in spite of her “crazy drive to stardom and cybernetic immortality” (148). The same can be said for the case of Rikki in “Burning Chrome,” who seeks synthetic eyes to emulate a simstim star she idolizes, Tally Isham.
The motif of technological body modifications in Burning Chrome is used to explore questions about the boundary of the human and the nonhuman in the future, like: To what extent can a person be cybernetically modified and still be considered “human”? How might technological modifications of human bodies redefine relationships between people, or a person’s sense of self? The examples that illustrate these questions in Gibson’s collection ultimately show an ambivalence or ambiguity in regards to technology: Modifications of the body can enable or enhance wondrous abilities, but they can also point to issues of identity.
By William Gibson