Books I Didn't Finish: Agency
Here’s a very quick Books I Didn’t Finish post, explaining why I stopped reading something a few chapters in. I guess “Books I Barely Started” would be a more appropriate title.
I have read precisely one (1) William Gibson novel in my time, which is Neuromancer. Maybe it’s because I don’t really like the “punk” part of cyberpunk all that much, or maybe I just came to it too late, but it didn’t do anything for me at all and I pretty much didn’t think of old Willie Gibbs again for years, until I saw Agency on the shelves of my local library and was reminded that he’s still alive.
Agency, which seems to have gotten a mixed reception even from the hardcore Gibheads, takes place across two time periods. In an alternate version of 2017 where Brexit didn’t happen and Trump lost the 2016 election, a genius app developer tests out a revolutionary AI named Eunice. In a dystopian London one hundred years into the future of a different timeline, some time cops are planning on using Eunice to stop some sort of upcoming calamity in her timeline.
This is kind of a non-starter for me to begin with. My interest in the three different concepts at play peaks with the alternate present, dips a little when it comes to the AI, and then takes a sharp downward plunge with the future timeline and the all-seeing time police.
If the plot description sounds a little disjointed, that’s because it is. Apparently the future timeline stuff is from a previous Gibson novel that this is technically a sequel to, and it feels very much like the story about Eustice the AI was grafted onto it after Gibson realized that it wasn’t substantial enough to carry an entire book by itself. That would certainly explain why the chapters dealing with it are so short and perfunctory, especially given the amount of material they need to cover.
However, my main problem with Agency is that alternate 2017 story. First off, a 72 year old male author writing a book about a young woman dubbed “The App Whisperer” has this inescapable How Do You Do Fellow Kids energy that I couldn’t quite get past. But that’s a minor complaint. A more substantial complaint is the dialogue, which is written like this:
“I’m not Gavin,” Verity said.
“No shit,” said the voice, neutrally.
“Verity Jane.”
“Ain’t the office, is it, Verity Jane?”
“Friend’s place.”
“The cursor traversed the living room, to the closed curtains. “What’s outside?”
“Valencia Street,” Verity said.
“What should I call you?”
“Eunice.”
“Hi, Eunice.”
“Hi yourself.” The cursor moved to Joe-Eddy’s Japanese faux Fender Jazzmaster. “Play?” “Friend does. You?”
“Good question.”
“You don’t know?”
“Thing-shaped hole.”
“Excuse me?”
“I got one, in that department. Want to show me what you look like?”
“How?”
“Mirror. Or take the glasses off. Point ’em at your face.”
“Will I be able to see you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“No there there.”
I get that this is meant to sound snappy and naturalistic, but instead it just comes off lifeless and mildly confusing (every time I read that exchange, I lose track of who’s speaking around “you don’t know?”).
Coupled with the rest of the writing not being particularly elegant either (“Very recent hiredness is its own liminal state”) and the story not seeming like something that was going to grab me, I jumped ship very quickly. Maybe I’ll give Gibson another try in ten years.