All the heroes in All Tomorrows Parties wield knives. Chevette, the onetime bike messenger and second-best thing in William Gibsons 1993 Virtual Light, has one hammered from a motorcycle drive chain. Rydell, former cop, night watchman, and now convenience store security guy, sports a lightweight ceramic knife, although he doesnt much like its balance. And the mysterious Konrad, the man who kills without fuss or muss, brandishes the deadliest blade, the one "that sleeps head down, like a vampire bat." So many sharp knives slice elegantly through the virtual realities and nanotechnological macguffins that populates Gibsons latest novel. And appropriately so. When Gibson, one of science fictions greatest literary stylists, is at his best, he offers visceral detail ("helicopters swarming like dragonflies") even when promising transcendent change ("the mother of all nodal points" -- a moment in the near future when the fabric of daily life will twist profoundly). Gibson wouldnt be Gibson if he spelled it out, if he eliminated all the ambiguity. His specialty is hanging on to that fractal edge without ever going over the brink.http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/stores/detail/-/books/0441007554/reviews/qid=1019619783/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_67_1/002-2054680-7939230
