As general the topic may be, at the end of the novel, I was most aware of its gender representations. The fact that Case is a cowboy and Molly a street-samurai sets the stage for a paradoxical and certainly complex relationship between genders. The traditional cowboy belongs to a vast, unexplored frontier with horses and Native Americans with rifles. In the case of the street-samurai, I envision a grittier existence that requires a strong sense of street knowledge. Upon their meeting, it is established that Case is a self-deprecating drug addict who needs the help of dominant Molly. Case allows Molly to hold him together, sexually and emotionally. Ironically, Molly is anything but the nurturing soul. She bluntly states, “What I think about first is my own sweet ass” (30). Molly does not exhibit the same neediness towards Case. In fact, in the end, Molly does not need or even desire the presence of Case in her life. Molly’s primary need is for Case to “ride” her in cyberspace.
Molly is science fiction’s “working girl.” She made her way as a prostitute and she appears to carry no regret. I believe the fact that Molly was once a prostitute does not sexually demean her but in fact empowers her. Sex is simply another way for Molly to exert control over the men who surround her. She is a sexual being and she embraces that and recognizes the way in which that can influence men. She sells her body sexually so that she can physically enhance it. Molly uses her body the way Case uses his brain. The body is her tool for survival. Following her stint as a prostitute, Molly sells her services as a bodyguard, a role most often filled by a man.
Women may be seen as an annoying disruption in the traditional western narrative but in “Neuromancer,” Molly is perhaps the most physically powerful character. She exhibits more enhancements than anyone else and I found it interesting that her head has silicone in it. In an utter rejection of the hypersexual female stereotype, Molly has her brain rather than her breasts enhanced. Much can be said about the fact that in order for Molly’s optical implants to work, her tear ducts had to be sealed shut. Thus, it is not that Molly is not emotionally capable of crying; she physically cannot produce tears. In a sense, this allows Molly to not be completely de-feminized. Yes, her tears come in the form of spit, but she still is willing to express those tears.
I do think it is interesting to question whether Gibson is attempting to redefine the feminine role in science fiction or if the depiction of Molly was supposed to stand as an introduction to the new cyborg identity. Perhaps, there can no longer be a clear distinction between the roles males and females must inhabit.
I can't help but wonder, of course, how much Gibson needs Molly to be cold and pragmatic about her physical objectification in order to allow the reader to objectify her as well...