We talked a fair bit in class about the troubled mind-body relationship present in Neuromancer. Many of the characters make us question our assumptions of what it means to be alive, from the unembodied mind of Wintermute to the mindless body of Armitage, with multiple characters straddling the line between life and death at any given point. Case is the one character who we are really allowed to connect with on any psychological level (though even that hold is tenuous, given the somewhat schizophrenic style of postmodern/cyberpunk writing). But even Case challenges our idea of what it means to be human, and alive.
The question is raised most obviously through his disgust of "flesh." The body as a prison is not a new concept by any means, but Case takes his dislike to a new level, perhaps because he, unlike us, can actually separate body and mind to a certain extent. When he finally does get to plug his mind into the matrix he's ecstatic, laughing "distant fingers caressing the deck, tears of release streaking his face," his nearly orgasmic euphoria caused by being able to escape into his mind, after being tethered for so long (52). He doesn't even like simstim because it's a "gratuitous multiplication of flesh input" (55). But ironically for him, this purely mental exercise is still dependant on the body. He is only able to jack in again after extensive surgery, and at the end of the book, in order to ensure that his talent won't be destroyed again, he has to physically venture into the Tessier-Ashpool "hive".
But the evils of meat follow him, even into the matrix. In Neuromancer's island world "[Linda] pulled him down, to the meat, the flesh the cowboys mocked. It was a vast thing, beyond knowing, a sea of information coded in spiral and pheromone, infinite intricacy that only the body, in its strong blind way, could ever read" (239). Even in what he knew was a programmed fantasy the drive held.
But for all his obvious protests, I'm not really sure that Case really does want to transcend the body. Neuromancer explains to him in their final showdown, in the setting of the beach, "[t]o live here is to live. There is no difference" (258). Given that this statement is said by the enemy at the climax at the novel, we're clearly not supposed to agree. But if the body simply is a useless, debilitating casing, then really I don't see why Neuromancer should be wrong. Life on the beach with Linda seems better than any point of Case's existence in the "real" world, at least over the course of the novel. So then why not abandon the real world entirely? Perhaps he can't because such a feat is impossible, but I think Case's experiences while flatlining suggest otherwise.
When he flatlines, Case is officially brain dead. There is no electrical activity, at all, in his "flesh." But his mind is still functional. The first time flatlines is also the first time he meets Wintermute. He describes shooting a gun during the episode: "the recoil almost broke his wrist. The muzzle-flash lit the office like a flashbulb. With his ears ringing, he started at the jagged hole in the front of the desk. Explosive bullet. Azide" (119). That specific passage involves at least three sense, and the description is just as real as any other in the book. The same goes for his time on the beach. What gives the situation away as a sham is not fuzzy outlines to objects, or constant static ringing in his ears, but rather the overly convenient food packets. These experiences feel just as real as any other to Case. He could live a potentially fulfilling life in cyberspace even after his physical brain is dead, so far as we can tell. But he refuses to accept this fate.
So, even though parts of Neuromancer seem to praise the mind over body, exalt in the triumph of brain over brawn. I think it represents an inherent fear of ever divorcing one from the other. We cannot be truly human without both.