a white rabbit with pink eyes

"...burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again."

it is a completely different wonderland William Gibson draws us into with his Neuromancer. it is nothing like the innocent if nonsensical place Alice finds after chasing that white rabbit. I mention the two works in connection because of things Chris has been philosophizing about over here. he calls it rabbit-hole theory. Chris hasn't even read any Lewis Carroll. he doesn't need to. somewhere long ago between 1865 and now, Carroll's magical little hole under the hedge has become a metaphor.

Gibson starts with the sky. a familiar enough concept, really, but not much is familiar in the world he goes on to describe for us. everything is foreign. everything is garish and loud and not what we expected. I told Chris, who had recommended the book in the first place, that it felt more like a city than a rabbit hole. a crowded, grimy city full of bright lights and dark corners, where nobody speaks the same language. Neuromancer is like a city. but by the time I reached that conclusion, I'd already skipped through the rabbit hole. how did that happen? there I was, following this recommendation from a friend, burning with curiosity as I opened the cover, and then...

"The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next."

it's this mix of suddenness tugging me into contemplation that makes the rabbit hole so subtly enchanting. like Alice, I have not a moment to think yet plenty of time to wonder. once opened, this world will not be shut again. once walked through, this doorway will never disappear. you cannot fall up a rabbit hole.

Neuromancer's slick, gritty culture is thrown at me piece by glittery piece, character by insane character. I'm trailing along after them, trying to make sense of them without daring to question their vivid existence. it ends suddenly, in the same torn-between loneliness where it began. the pages have all been turned, but will I ever really wake up?

maybe all of that imagery will fade away, like a dream.

maybe I will be ever after peering into mirrors, looking for another wonderland.


on a utterly random side-note, read the film noir version of humpty dumpty, by brandon mull, stuck in the middle of his interview with shannon hale.