The state of things as they are or appear to be, rather than as one might wish

them to be.1

Thus begins the Collins English Dictionary definition of “reality”. Because of the
complicated nature of the idea of reality, even a dictionary entry must be unpicked to obtain
anything of use. It would seem from this that even how things “appear to be” can be
considered real, but that what “one might wish” is irrelevant. Taking this a step further, one
can construct a philosophy based on reality as a subjective thing, which depends on
appearance, and which is nevertheless unchanged by human hopes or wants; reality for an
individual is composed by that individual’s perception of the world, of the self, and of their
correlation.

If this philosophy is followed in literary analysis, then works of fiction must have their
own reality, systematically bound within their pages. Two novels which explore the idea of
this reality being controlled and manipulated are William Gibson’s Neuromancer and Kazuo
Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go2. In the realms of dystopian literature, the control which the
author has over these constructed realities is put to the test: the writer creates a separate world
in which contemporary anxieties are blown out of proportion, allowing the reader an
opportunity to actively interpret, examine and reinterpret these concerns in relation to their
own lives. An issue of great importance for humanity is that our lives – our “realities” – are
often subject to outside control. Hence, it is acutely resonant that dystopian fiction, where a
character’s whole existence is confined to paper, allows authors to explore this concept of
manipulation. This character often suffers monitoring, isolation and general oppression,
usually effected by an outside force like a governmental or corporate body. This is certainly
true of what may be considered “classic” dystopian literature, prime examples being Aldous
Huxley’s Brave New World and George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four3; in perhaps less
obvious ways, this theme is also explored in the more recent works Neuro and NLMG.

Gibson is frequently credited with bringing into existence the cyberpunk genre.4 Set in a
future world, Neuro follows a mysterious “cyberspace cowboy” named Case, a now-
conventional cyberpunk protagonist – isolated and experienced with computer hacking –
through events of escalating danger and confusion. Case begins in Chiba City, before being
found by the equally intriguing Molly and even more enigmatic Armitage. The trio embark
on a journey which takes them around the world, leading eventually to the orbiting city of
Freeside. Throughout the action the mission seems to shift, primarily being a quest to find
truth – truth about Armitage’s past, about the artificial intelligence Wintermute’s nature, and
about the uncanny virtual worlds shown to Case by Wintermute and a second AI,
Neuromancer.

1
Hanks, Patrick (editor), Collins Dictionary of the English Language, Second Edition,
(Collins, 1987), p1273.
2
Henceforth Neuro and NLMG, respectively.
3
Henceforth BNW and 1984, respectively.
4
Cyberpunk, a portmanteau of “cybernetics” and “punk”, is a subgenre of dystopian fiction
dealing with near-future worlds where technology is advanced far beyond today’s standards
and treated almost religiously; places where multinational corporations have ultimate power,
much like a revered deity.
1
 While Neuro can certainly be called “science fiction”, not all dystopian literature need be
quite as obviously so. NLMG is set in a subtly twisted version of the reader’s world rather
than a futuristic one5, a world in which clones are raised to provide organs for transplant. By
coating the science fiction elements with a modern-day sheen, the world is made to seem
more believable than the worlds of other dystopian fiction. Kathy H., now a “carer”,
reminisces about her childhood at Hailsham, a place where she and her friends were brought
up. As the story progresses, her relationships with friends develop and reshape, and the truth
that they are merely clones becomes gradually clearer. Secrets and rumours affect everything,
and finally Kathy’s hopes hinge on such a rumour: the story that people who can prove they
are in love will be eligible for a deferral and have time together before becoming “donors”.

What is interesting about NLMG is how the setting serves to be a limiting and appalling
trap, made all the more horrific for it idyllic appearance; the novel features an enclosed place
whose inhabitants have no idea of the world beyond 6. 1984’s Airstrip One, formerly England,
supports this idea of the control apparent in limited locales: it is a province of the superpower
Oceania; Oceania is constantly at war with either of the world’s other powers, Eurasia and
Eastasia. The enemy and ally can switch places at any time, and when this happens, records
of history are changed to say that the war has always been the way it is, as Winston, the main
character describes:

...if all records told the same tale – then the lie passed into history and
became truth.7

As it is “history”, this information will affect society for generations to come, and so the
people of Airstrip One have no choice but to accept this information about the world as truth.
This demonstrates the control that “the Party” has over the people: the power – ultimate
power – to decide what is and what is not true, a disturbing idea that not only the self is
manipulated, but that truth is too. The connection between these clear lies and the control
over reality is shown by the term “doublethink”, which is how people are able to accept these
lies; interestingly, Winston refers to it directly as “reality control”.

Is Case of Neuro under similar control? His confusion about how real his experiences are
would certainly suggest that he is. In various scenes, he is confronted with false
environments, constructed by AIs and based on his memories. He is unable to tell that these
realities are untrue, as shown by his automatic acceptance of them:

Friday. It had to be a Friday. Linda was probably in the arcade. Might have
money, or at least cigarettes...8

5
A recent critical review of the novel described the novel as being “…a vision of the way we
live already, transposed to an invented realm.” – Evening Standard, critical reviews located
in: Ishiguro, Kazuo, Never Let Me Go, (Faber and Faber, 2006)
6
The idea of a limited enclosure, that is, the setting of physical boundaries to control and
enforce behaviour is a classic concept for dystopian literature.
7
Orwell, George, Nineteen Eighty-Four, (Heinemann New Windmills, 1990), p26.
8
Gibson, William, Neuromancer, (HarperCollins, 1995), p141.
2
The way that his thoughts jump seamlessly from one idea to the other, connecting the dots as
it were, indicates that he is completely taken in. He thinks “it had to be a Friday”. He believes
so totally in what he sees and feels that he then simply assumes “Linda was probably in the
arcade”. However, even though this seems real at the time, it is nothing more than a façade
created using his memories by Wintermute. Wintermute therefore becomes a frightening
figure: a computer program which can manipulate even the basic information in one’s mind is
surely emblematic of a world where technology is too powerful.

It is Gibson’s particular writing style which helps to make the reader empathise with Case,
allowing the underdog archetype to gain support and sympathy. Case’s experiences are
relayed to the reader with a third-person narrative style; despite this, it seems to be within
Case’s mind. An intrusive narrative voice is used to follow Case, to the point where even
outside signs and sounds seem filtered through him:

‘It’s not like I’m using,’ Case heard someone say, as he shouldered his way
through the crowd around the door of the Chat.9

Therefore, Gibson can show Case’s confusion at various points in the novel by structuring the
language as if it is part of his thought processes. Brusque, unexplained sentences mixed
contrastingly with flowing assonance give away Case’s state of mind while he is under
anaesthetic:

Cold steel odor. Ice caressed his spine ... a hundred faces from the neon
forest, sailors and hustlers and whores, where the sky is poisoned silver,
beyond chainlink and the prison of the skull.10

Though some would attribute this to postmodernism for postmodernism’s sake, the fact that
Gibson uses almost exactly the same wording again later when Case is in a similar state of
consciousness proves that there is good reason for this:

Cold steel odor and ice caressed his spine.

And faces peering in from a neon forest, sailors and hustlers and whores,
under a poisoned silver sky...11

Gibson shows how Case is suffering from confusion by broadcasting that confusion to the
reader, though it is an interesting point that the second example includes more prepositions,
implying that Case has a slightly better awareness of his situation. Whether Case’s reality is
being totally controlled by outside forces or not is debatable, but he is certainly losing his
own control over reality and cannot make sense of what is happening to him. If he is
confused about what is happening, then he must also be vulnerable to a real threat of
manipulation.

Further, lexical choice is another key point in Gibson’s investigation of this important
theme, this constructing and shaping of reality. The novel’s title is a pun: partly on “new
romancer”, referring to the technological romanticism now characteristic of cyberpunk; and

9
Gibson, p9.
10
Gibson, p42-43.
11
Gibson, p140.
3
also a pun on “necromancer”, meaning somebody with magical power over the dead; by
replacing “necro-” with “neuro-”, an image is created of a magician who can control the
human nervous system. This imbues the character Neuromancer with great power when he at
last appears, and by naming the novel after this character, Neuro is constantly connected with
this controlling image. Furthermore, Gibson manipulates language by using contemporary
brand names like “Mitsubishi”, “Hitachi” and “Mercedes”, which hold familiarity for the
reader and offer some security. Demonstrating the society’s reliance on such corporations has
the effect of adding detail to the world: Neuro’s reality is one where technology is of huge
importance, and this is a result of colossal companies gaining power. Linguist Steven Pinker,
seemingly taking his cue from Ferdinand de Saussure 12, has proposed that language is a
weapon13; Gibson uses this weapon in the form of a trap, pulling in the reader and spearing
the cultural security of brand names with fear over how real one’s own world is. Another
example of the power of language appears in 1984, where a new language is being developed
named “Newspeak”, designed to limit conversation and thought by eliminating all words
which oppose the Party in any way. This is, though more blatant, much the same as Gibson’s
method of structuring a world through vocabulary or rather specifically, by our perceptions of
language.

Indeed, mountains of new lexis are formed solely to shape Neuro’s reality. “The matrix”,
or “cyberspace”, is an almost laughably appropriate example, being essentially an alternate
reality. It is a place where the world’s information is stored; one great computer. Case,
formerly a “cyberspace cowboy” returns to the matrix during the novel, and it becomes
central to the plot. However, even more important than the plot in this case is the fact that the
matrix is something entirely new to the reader. In its first mention, it carries no previous
meaning:

...he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took,
all the turns he’d taken and the corners he’d cut in Night City, and still he’d
see the matrix in his sleep, bright lattices of logic unfolding across the
colorless void...14

Even now there is an idea of the matrix being connected with control, due to the pattern-like
image of “lattices of logic” suggesting design and predetermined structure. In addition, this
introduces an enigma which then surrounds the idea of the matrix. As the novel continues,
Case’s frequent forays into the matrix force the reader to understand the concept by revealing
more about it over time. At one point, a “kid’s show” describes cyberspace:

‘Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of

legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical

12
Saussure is often referred to as the ‘father of modern linguistics’ and proposed a theory of
linguistics whereby language was not simply a reflection of reality, but actually constructed
it.
13
Pinker, Steven, The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television, (Penguin Books Limited,
2008), p71 extracted from The Stuff of Thought: Language as a Window into Human Nature,
(Penguin Press Science, 2008): “Language is a weapon; we should be mindful of where to
aim it and when to fire.”
14
Gibson, p10-11.
4
 concepts... A graphic representation of data abstracted from the banks of
every computer in the human system.’15

The fact that this is part of a “kid’s show” highlights how normal the matrix is for the people
of this world; “hallucination” makes it clear that this is an alteration of reality, yet
“consensual” shows that it is a matter of choice. To the reader, the whole idea seems bizarre,
fantastic, but the information here is treated with boredom by Case. In showing aspects of
this future to be so pedestrian to the main characters, Gibson makes the reader experience this
reality essentially from the characters’ viewpoint; this is important in demonstrating the
control he has in creating the world of Neuro.

Returning, now, to NLMG, it is clear that Ishiguro takes a similar approach in

manufacturing a believable reality by creating sympathy for the main character. The novel is
written in the first person; it is all seen through Kathy’s eyes, forcing the story’s reality to be
always limited by her own perception. A conversational tone arises from the use of particular
words and phrases creating an informal atmosphere; for example: “I know”, “okay” and
“anyway” all appear from the first page. Further on, the expression “I don’t know how it was
where you were, but...” creates a link with the reader and is used often. Kathy assumes that
the reader is like her, a clone, somebody who has spent his or her childhood in a school like
Hailsham. Much like in Neuro, the way in which the world is made to seem so normal to the
main characters helps to make the reader understand this reality. Also showing the importance
in the language used, the name “Hailsham” works as a pun: “hail” connotes religious ideas, in
turn connected with mankind “playing God” by creating clones; “sham” of course
accentuates the falsity involved. The concepts of creation and of fakery suggest a degree of
control being implemented. 16
Just as Gibson gradually explains the matrix, Ishiguro uses the same method to shroud the
idea of “donations” in mystery. They are mentioned now and again during the first many
chapters, treated as an inevitable thing, but never explained, just as the children do not fully
understand the topic themselves. At one point, the Guardian Miss Lucy speaks up when some
boys are light-heartedly discussing their futures:

‘Your lives are set out for you. You’ll become adults, then before you’re
old, before you’re even middle-aged, you’ll start to donate your vital
organs. That’s what each of you was created to do.’17

This reveals what the “donations” really are, but even here, there is no explicit mention that
the children are all clones. The idea of their being “created” hints at the truth, but as they are
talking about hopes for the future, they are demonstrating human emotion and implying that
they have souls, making the idea of the “donations” seem wholly horrific. By now, the reader
of course realises that there is something unusual – unnatural even – about the children, but it
is not until later that the word “clones” is actually used. After they have all left Hailsham and
live at “the Cottages”, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy go with the older couple Chrissie and Rodney

15
Gibson, p67.
16
This is much like the place name “Freeside” in Neuro: “free” is ironic in the sense that
everything comes at a price, every action having repercussions, as well as implying freedom,
a bittersweet suggestion as this is something which the characters do not truly have.

17
Ishiguro, p80.
5
on a trip to Norfolk in search of Ruth’s “possible”18 They find the person and follow her to a
small art gallery, but then give up, and Ruth becomes upset:

‘We’re modelled from trash. Junkies, prostitutes, winos, tramps... The other
woman in there, her friend, the old one in the gallery. Art students, that’s
what she thought we were. Do you think she’d have talked to us like that if
she’d known what we really were? What do you think she’d have said if
we’d asked her? “Excuse me, but do you think your friend was ever a clone
model?” She’d have thrown us out... Look down the toilet, that’s where
you’ll find where we all came from.’19

Ruth says “clone” in an almost throwaway manner. The characters have known the truth
about their existence for some time, but until now the reader has only been given suggestions
that they are clones. Tension has been built up through the creation of an uncanny feeling: the
world created seems contemporary, but hints about “donations” and about the characters’
inability to have children twist it eerily. As a result, the preparation for this revelation does
little to soften the shock. This is accepted by the characters however, making their world
seem at once sinister and real, and therefore emphasizing that as they were “created”, their
reality is controlled and limited by a tragic destiny.

The rather bizarre atmosphere is used to explore the idea of a manufactured reality in other
ways too: Ishiguro’s mysteriously idyllic setting and secretive Guardians cause the children’s
perception of the outside reality to be based mainly on rumours and stories. One of these is
the idea that when things are lost, they go to Norfolk:

...Norfolk was England’s ‘lost corner’, where all the lost property found in
the country ended up. Somehow this idea caught on and soon had become
accepted fact virtually throughout our entire year.20

As they can so easily accept that something like this must be true, they evidently do not
understand what the world beyond Hailsham is like. Yet, they must have some awareness that
this is simply a story, as Kathy soon admits:

Sure enough, by the time we were twelve or thirteen, the Norfolk thing had
become a big joke.21

This suggests that they make up these myths as a way of creating a picture of the world: they
know that there is no truth in them, but because they know so little, having these ideas is a
comfort. Ironically, despite knowing that the Norfolk rumour is untrue, on their trip there,
Kathy and Tommy find a copy of Kathy’s lost audiotape, featuring the song the novel is
named for, “Never Let Me Go”. The fact that the lost item does seem to appear in Norfolk

18
“Possibles” are described by Kathy as “the people who might have been the models for
you and your friends.”
19
Ishiguro, p164.
20
Ishiguro, p65.
21
Ishiguro, p66.
6
gives the impression that there is truth in their comforting tales after all, in a way confirming
that reality depends on perceptions.

Another way in which any dystopian novel deals with the topic of altering reality is by
looking at the extent to which it is possible. In NLMG, one of many rumours becomes the
source of Kathy’s and Tommy’s hopes towards the end. It is believed that Hailsham students
have the opportunity to earn a deferral, putting off the time before donations, if a couple can
prove their love, and that the proof is in the art that they produced while being at Hailsham.
The reasoning behind this is that Tommy once heard Miss Emily let slip that “they revealed
your soul.” Later on, they end up confronting Miss Emily about the topic of deferrals; it turns
out that “there’s no truth in the rumour”. She also reveals the real reason behind the need for
the children’s artwork:

‘Why did we take your artwork? Why did we do that? ...You said it was
because your art would reveal what you were like. What you were like
inside... to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.’22

Miss Emily crushes their hopes, condemning them to the life they always knew they were
made to lead and taking away any possibility of something more fulfilling. This allows
Ishiguro to ask whether people’s desires can be manipulated in the same way that their view
of the world can. Tommy and Kathy have had a childhood in a moderated environment where
their education is deliberately limited, followed by a kind of halfway-house without any real
purpose, only to have their last hope demolished. There is, though, a consolation in knowing
that in spite of this unshakeable control, nothing can keep them from having beliefs, dreams
and ambitions.

In BNW, a bleaker prospect is suggested than in NLMG, implying that even a person’s
nature – and therefore the beliefs that they will have in life – can be controlled from birth:
people are born artificially – or “decanted” – and raised specifically depending on which
caste they will belong to in life. They are never given the opportunity to have their own
ambitions, as all the opinions they have are based on their conditioning: a programme of
“sleep-teaching, or hypnopaedia” sets out their beliefs. Conversely, a central theme of 1984 is
that the only freedom the characters have is in their own minds. They are monitored
constantly, but the state cannot prevent them from dreaming about their escape from
persecution. Winston writes in his diary, “Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two
make four.” This is an example of how, like Ishiguro, Orwell suggests that hopes cannot be
controlled. However, when Winston is later punished for “thoughtcrime”, the opposite seems
to be true: he is shown four fingers and electroshocked until he actually sees five, without
lying. 1984 ends on an even more depressing note than BNW, having not simply shown that
beliefs can be controlled, but having implied that the mind is safe and then destroying this
possibility. The very last words reveal this perfectly: “He had won the victory over himself.
He loved Big Brother.” Together, BNW and 1984 have a stark message that contradicts that of
NLMG, concluding instead that everything about a person can be controlled, down to the very
essence of one’s own self.

A reader can take some solace in the knowledge that these lives are not their own despite
the novels’ explorations of contemporary anxieties: 1984, for example, though written in the
late 1940s, shows concerns even today over the thought of government bodies monitoring the
public. Reflecting social issues links the novel to the reader’s world, creating an uncanny
22
Ishiguro, p255.
7
feeling similar to NLMG which then makes the diegesis seem more real. The world Winston
lives in becomes more immediate to the reader. Imbuing the novel with such resonance
allows Orwell to explore reality’s control in a profound and intriguing way. Ishiguro does the
same, using society’s worries about cloning research to make a connection with the “real”
world and therefore look closely at how reality can be manipulated even outwith the novel.
NLMG was written quite recently; BNW features similar ideas also, despite having been
written in the early thirties. A world, “civilization” as it is referred to time and again with
more than a hint of cynicism, in which even social order is based on the principles of mass-
production, mirrors current anxieties about stem cell science. Finally, Gibson depicts a
society that revolves around technology, making a connection with the fear of technology’s
overuse in any place and time. By making these connections, the author of each novel is then
able to indicate that even the reader’s world can be controlled in similar ways.

Throughout both Neuro and NLMG, the control of reality is a theme of great importance.
This central concern is developed from start to finish, showing that the control is increasing
over time. Ishiguro does this by making it become progressively more obvious, evidenced by
the way in which truths are gradually revealed about donations and the characters’ fates.
Ironically, as the story progresses, they move away from Hailsham, becoming freer, and yet
with every move their horizons narrow more. After their departure from Hailsham and,
subsequently, the cottages they enter a world where people want them to be “in the shadows”.
The rather gloomy paradox that they lose freedom when they should be gaining it shows the
growing control their lives are subject to as time passes. By the end, their lives seem
heartbreakingly insignificant, and Kathy and Tommy must leave each other with a kind of
grim acceptance; the near-pointless nature of their existences – and everybody else’s in truth
– is summed up in Kathy’s statement:

‘It might be just some trend that came and went,’ I said. ‘But for us, it’s our
life.’23

The build-up to their disappointment and final acceptance of fate hits the reader with a huge
message: life for them is a negligible point in a system of control.

Gibson’s technique of forcing ideas and expressions on the reader until an understanding
can be established has a similar effect. It also creates a build-up, making the diegetic world
feel steadily more real and so making the controlling ideas clearer. The style wherein Case’s
thought processes take over the syntax becomes more apparent: early on, this style is used
when Case is in an unusual state of awareness, like when drugged, and otherwise is just a
small part of the narrative. Later, however, disjointed phrases and surreal images become
more of a staple in the novel’s stylistic diet. Gibson chooses more and more to express Case’s
thoughts through a sudden and deliberate flash of something he notices, like when he “flips”
and enters “simstim”, which allows him to see through Molly’s eyes and contact her. While
using simstim, Case sees a display showing him the time:

Her chip pulsed the time.

04:23:04.24

23
Ishiguro, p261.
24
Gibson, p227.
8
This kind of interruption in the flow of the text becomes extremely frequent. The now
familiar confusion in these points suggests that Case’s reality is becoming less clear; a
growing sense of this is established, as in NLMG. In an afterword, Gibson talks about his
“favourite description” of the novel:

“...At the end, the Artificial Intelligence wins, and gets what it wants. The
lovers, by contrast, break up.”25

The controlling influences in Neuro, namely “the Artificial Intelligence” Neuromancer in this
case, evidently have an effect on the finale. Appropriately, at the end there is a bizarre image
created which reflects what the outside forces have caused:

The screen woke, random patterns flickering feebly from side to side, as
though it were trying to rid itself of something that caused it pain.
‘I don’t need you,’ he said.26

Gibson uses a strangely anthropomorphic description of a television screen to fuse together

his unusual literary style and the culmination of the plot. The bleak final sentence, “He never
saw Molly again”, finishes off by suggesting that the control over reality is irresistible. This is
surely the key idea common to Neuro and NLMG, as well as 1984 and BNW.

Evidently, reality – “the state of things as they are or appear to be...” – being controlled or
manipulated to some extent is a theme of huge importance in any dystopian novel, whether
from the early thirties, late forties, eighties or present day. Similarities abound: enclosed
locations are often used, and these places tend to feature a force which has a level of control
over the inhabitants’ lives. New lexis is created in order to give shape to these worlds, as in
BNW and 1984. Often, new vocabulary does not come with any explanation, forcing reader
interpretation based on contextual cues. Questions about how far reality can be controlled are
explored too, with each author coming to a slightly different conclusion, whether it be that
hopes are safe, as in NLMG, or that everything about a person can be remodelled, as in BNW
and 1984. The authors solidify such links by reflecting contemporary issues and anxieties;
despite their locations in alternate, foreign or other “realities”, the reader must empathise,
being ultimately concerned about particular ideas pertaining to the human experience, like
cloning or monitoring, and darker existential questions which our very humanness invariably
draws us towards. Ishiguro, Gibson, Huxley and Orwell all conclude with the main character
facing an inevitable pain: loss, death or defeat. Each novel ends on a depressing note, giving
the ultimate message that when one’s reality is under outside control, nothing can be done
about it.

25
Bruce Sterling’s criticism of Neuromancer, found in Gibson, William, Neuromancer,
(HarperCollins 1995), p319.
26
Gibson, p316.
9
Specialist Study (Dissertation) Bibliography

Primary Texts

W. Gibson, Neuromancer, Harper Collins Publishers (1995), London.

A. Huxley, Brave New World, Granada Publishing Limited (1977), London.

K. Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go, Faber and Faber Limited (2005), Kent.

G. Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four, Heinemann Educational Publishers (1990), Oxford.

Secondary Texts and (Web) Sources

S. Pinker, The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television, Penguin (2008), London, extracted
from S. Pinker, The Stuff of Thought: Language as a Window into Human Nature, Penguin
Press Science (2008)

Internet Resources

D. Chandler, ‘Semiotics for Beginners’ (2009)

Available: http://www.aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/S4B/sem02.html

Wikipedia Resource (search ‘Ferdinand de Saussure’)

Available: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferdinand_de_Saussure

10
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