“And a premise does not a story make.”

I’ve been a fan of Gibson ever since Neuromancer (hasn’t everyone?), so I was looking forward to this later novel of his. And at several levels of Gibson-expectation, it does not disappoint: an array of characters spread across the layers of class, from corporate kingpins to struggling thieves; a global culture that is as fragmented and walled-off as it is ubiquitous in its technology; and–here more than many of his books–an uber-saturated dive into business branding, especially of luxury products and the status they convey. In fact, the entire novel and its characters are seemingly driven by little but the pursuit of this ever-changing vanity profiteering, in markets black and grey.

Sounds fun. So when the story opens with a mysterious “un-marketed” series of film clips which nonetheless are having an impact on the culture consciousness, the sharks circle.

So, why didn’t I love it more? I think, basically because, without giving any spoilers here, I’ve still given you the entire story. And a premise does not a story make. Over the course of 400 long winding pages, you will eventually (and only very very late) discover the answers to who’s making the film. And this discovery doesn’t have the pay-off of a good mystery, where the clues eventually show you a promised “recognition pattern,” despite the teases along the way. Nope. So I can ask you now with just as much significance as I might after you finished reading: “What difference does that answer make for you?”

If you answered, “Idle curiosity, I guess,” you’d be right.