Summer Reading Recommendations

I was recently invited to take part in Lord Bonkers' blogpost recommending good summer reads. This gave me the impetus I needed to get on and finish Iain Banks' the Quarry as well as to re-read a childhood favourite, When The Wind Blows by Raymond Briggs.

 

You can read my reviews here and the whole series here. If you don't already follow Liberal England, I do recommend you have a good browse whilst you're there.

 

Andrew

A toast to The Man Himself

Earlier today it was announced that Iain [M] Banks had died. Whilst it was known that his death was imminent, the news was no less the galling for that.

The Man Himself (TMH), as he was known on the fan forums, was erudite, witty, intelligent and humble. His books were imaginative: exploring the extremes of human nature, love and relationships with a mixture of comedy, pathos and violence. The landscapes of his non-Sci Fi books were often evocative and (for Scots at least) recognisable. His characters were mostly well rounded and complex, reflecting reality rather than being standard tropes. His plots could be epic in scope (The Crow Road) or conceived with clever twists (The Wasp Factory). He was never afraid to play with the form of the novel or return to his favourite themes; familial relationships, religion, socialism and secrets were all recurring features of his work.

I met him once, at a book reading in the Waterstone's at the West End of Princes' Street in Edinburgh. To be honest, I can't remember much about it beyond queuing up to get my books signed - I can't even remember what book he was promoting at the time (I came away with a signed copy of The Business and one of The Bridge for my dad; it may have been for the paperback release of The Business or, perhaps, the hardback publication of one of his 'M' novels...) - but I can remember being incredibly pleased to have "met" him, and to have obtained his signature.

Last October, I was supposed to go to a reading for the launch of The Hydrogen Sonata. Sadly, I ended up double booked. Even more sadly, I will never have the opportunity again. I would like, therefore to propose a toast. 

To Iain [M] Banks, The Man Himself, 1954-2013

Andrew

Some Thoughts On... Iain Banks

I'd been meaning to post for a while about how much I was looking forward to the publication of Iain Banks' new book, The Quarry. Originally due out in October, the publication was recently brought forward to June.

 

The Quarry will now not just be his next novel, but his last. Regardless of what I think of it in itself, it will be added to a volume of work by one of this nation's best authors - too often under-rated and under-recognised.

 

Whilst I've been disappointed with most of Banks' recent offerings, his earlier works (and, I understand, his Science Fiction work) is amongst the finest contemporary fiction by any British author.

 

Dark, witty, occasionally violent; his novels explore the gritty side of life and relationships and the consequences of actions. Inter-generational family sagas where echoes of the past come back to exert a price on the inhabitants of the present were a recurring obsession.

 

At the heart of many of his novels were secrets. Secrets that ate away at his characters and families, like a cancer; slowly but steadily developing until they were ready to destroy.

 

Today, Iain Banks has sadly announced that his body has been playing host to a very real cancer of its own - and that he only has months to live. I am absolutely gutted by this news and for Banks himself. My wish is that he is able to live out his last months in as much comfort and as little pain as the medics can provide.

 

 

Andrew

Was someone listening at Little, Brown and Abacus?

Of course I flatter myself but word reaches me - via The Banksonian - that Abacus are to reissue Iain Banks' back catalogue with completely new jackets, restoring a consistant look across his (non-M) œuvre.

I previous blogged about this here and here - the latter of these two pieces featured the design for the paperback edition of Stonemouth which is template for the new look covers. Here are some of the others:

A vast improvement on the mishmash they had become.

Andrew

A Message to Little, Brown - A Postscript

Earlier this year, I wrote this post, lamenting the covers which Little, Brown had given to recent additions to the Iain Banks' literary canon. Today, when I was out, I noted that the Abacus paperback of Stonemouth, the hardback cover of which inspired that last post, has been published. Whilst not returning to the format of the earlier Banks' covers, it is a distinct improvement on the cover given to the hardback publication:

You can read my review of the book here.

Andrew

Stonemouth - A Review

Regular readers will know that I am a big fan of Iain Banks' work; he is just about the only author whose books I get when they are released in hardback, rather than wait on the paperback publication. I've also started reading his Science Fiction works, published as Iain M Banks, but for the sake of clarity references to his oeuvre in this review are specifically to the "non-M" books.

After a number of books which failed to reach the heights of his previous works, his last book, Transition, was something of a return to form. It was with some anticipation and trepidation that I embarked upon Stonemouth. Would I be disappointed? Was Transition's improved quality partly because it was border-line science fiction? (I'm told that the Iain M Banks novels have remained more consistent than the non-M works)

The answers to those questions? "Yes and No" and "I think so".

Stonemouth is a (fictional) town in the North-East of Scotland, somewhere between Aberdeen and Peterhead. Our protagonist, Stewart, is returning to the town for the first time in five years for the funeral of Joe Murston - the patriarch of the local "mafia" family. Joe also happens to be the grandfather of Stewart's former fiancée, his wedding to whom was cancelled when he was run out of the town just a week before the nuptuals were due.

The subject matter is vintage Banks - a story told in flashbacks, telling of friendships and secrets, family ties and betrayals, all sprinkled with helpings of violence, sex, drugs and politics - although there is less violence than one may expect. The book shares a lot with its predecessors - The Crow Road in particular - but lacks their ambition. Where The Crow Road is an epic, multi-later, inter-generational tail, Stonemouth is more linear with less depth and less dramatic secrets. So yes, Stonemouth is in this respect disappointing, as if Banks' was only firing on two cylinders, recycling ideas, re-treading plots and updating previous novels. 

This idea of him seeling to update previous works struck me in the first chapter where there are copious references to pop-culture in a way which will very quickly date the book. On page 10, for example, Family Guy, Cee Lo Green and "Tinchy featuring Tinie" get a mention. It seems as if Banks' is trying too hard to get into the mind of a 25 year old and the result is that it both jars and fails to be authentic: Stewart doesn't sound like any 25 year old I know - at least not initially.

(This lack of authenticity is compounded by unfortunate mention of the dominance and money of Celtic and Rangers and the perennial debate on them playing in England - although Banks' was never to know what was about to befall Rangers around the time of publication of the novel!)

It is a novel of promise but of poor execution. Elements of plot get picked up, played with and put aside. The attempt at creating an atmosphere of menace rarely does. Stewart seems content to spend longer than strictly speaking necessary in the company of those we are told are so keen to hurt him. And whilst the impending sense of doom does reach a climax, it also lacks a certain authenticity.

For all these criticisms - and a number more beside - Stonemouth is an enjoyable romp. After a few chapters I put my early reservations and aside and settled into the book as it settled into its stride. And in the end, I did kinda like it.

That said, I can't escape the conclusion that it is sub-standard compared to Banks' previous work and, if it weren't a Banks' novel, I wouldn't be rushing to read anything else by the author. Whilst Transition may have been Banks' back at (or close to) his best, it seems that his best is now reserved for works with a Science Fiction bent. He's still someway off his best when it comes to non-genre fiction.

Andrew

A message to Little, Brown

Yesterday, my copy of Iain Banks' latest book, Stonemouth, arrived. Banks is one of my favourite authors but it's fair to say that his recent works haven't reached the heights of earlier favourites such as The Wasp Factory, The Bridge and The Crow Road. His last novel, Transition, did mark something of a return to form - possibly as it bordered on the SciFi he writes as Iain M Banks.

I'll be reviewing Stonemouth in due course, and have already made some notes on the first chapter, but this post is more of a mini-rant about the cover art of the book.

Once upon a time, Banks' novels had striking abstract black and white covers, often embossed. For the publication of Dead Air in 2002, the look was changed and previous books were re-issued to match with colour-washed stock photographs adorning them. After a hiatus of 5 years, 2007's The Steep Approach to Garbadale kept some elements of this new design but featured an illustration rather than a photograph.Transition in 2009 featured a maze-like design in black and lime green (which was reproduced in red and black  for the paperback.) 

Stonemouth's cover seems to complete this gradual descent from the excellent early covers to something which is, to me at least, pretty uninspiring. Indeed, it's not just me. When the cover was unveiled, there was a view on the Iain Banks forum boards that this could be some sort of temporary image while the actual artwork was finalised. Sadly, though, this was not the case...

They say you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover but when you're stood in a bookshop, that is exactly what you do. Without a knowledge of Banks' work, or any other info, I doubt I'd pick Stonemouth up. 

Ultimately this post is an appeal to Little, Brown and Abacus in the UK and Hachette in the US: Sort it out - it's not too late to improve things for the paperback edition.

 Andrew

James Naughtie and The Wasp Factory

James Naughtie is one of my favourite Radio 4 personalities. Not only is he the "good cop" to John Humphrys' more robust and assertive cop on the Today programme but his too-rare pieces of reportage showcase a great skill of approaching complex issues from a sympathetic and human viewpoint. His reports from the campaign trail in the last US elections were essential listening in this regard as were those from Japan in the wake of the Earthquakes earlier this year.

(These foreign assignments are a matter of ongoing controversy on Radio 4's Feedback programme - not to mention The Daily Mail, of course - the argument against such trips typically being: "How many correspondants does the BBC need in any one place? And what point is there in presenting the show from, say, Japan when it could equally well be done in London? For my money (and it is in part) Mr Naughtie is a shining example of how being at the source of the news informs and illuminates in a way analysing it from thousands of miles away can never do. But I digress...)

Aside from his political nous, though, Naughtie also has a wide range of artistic and literary interests which the Today production team also ensure are utilised when the opportunity arises. These interests are also given expression when presenting the Proms and Radio 4's monthly Bookclub.

The format of the Bookclub is an interview the author of a given book, guiding the listener through the thought process of the writer, the issues and plotting devices, the characters and intent as well as chairing a discussion and taking questions from the audience. Naughtie does this expertly, showing a real knowledge of the book under discussion and ensuring that the major themes and questions are addressed.

This month's book happens to be one of my favourites and by one of my favourite authors: The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks. It's waiting on my iPod to listen to but I've no doubt it'll be a corker. You can find it on iPlayer or you can download the podcast. 

Here's a taster of the programme courtesy of Naughtie's own e-mail. If you're at all familiar with his accent and the cadence of his voice, you should be able to detect that in his writing:

"I’m fairly sure that Iain Banks is the first guest on Bookclub of whom I have asked the question: have you ever let yourself be psycho-analysed? I was therefore slightly disappointed when the answer was no, but it was worth a try.  (Radio 4 Bookclub this Sunday 6 November at 4pm and Thursday 10 November at the new time of 3.30pm.)

If you know The Wasp Factory, the book that launched Iain’s serious writing career 27 years ago, you will know why the question arose. Frank’s story, which gives the book its shape and its spirit, is one of grotesque adolescent excess, particularly in the matter of violence. He has killed three people (at least, we’re told, one of them a sibling) and much of his delight while he is growing up comes from meting out undeserved punishment on any living thing that passes by. Take the alarm clock contraption which involves wasps being pinned to the hands and, as a consequence, being killed to a timetable set by Frank, allowing him to wake up to see his latest victim being squashed as the clock strikes the hour, with another one coming along behind. The book is a picture of disturbance, a kind of punk’s-eye view of the world, which is a place of gothic horror and badness. Yet, as Iain told us, “Frank thinks he is relatively normal – it’s as simple as that.”

You can see why I wondered if he’d ever had his head examined to see where the story came from, and he recalled happily a launch party for one of his books in Edinburgh when an American student asked him if he had experienced a very troubled childhood, expecting the answer yes. Iain pointed out his grey-haired mother in the crowd, who duly obliged with the truth: “Och no, Iain was always a happy wee boy.”

We were talking in the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh, where our readers had been re-reading the book, sometimes after several years, and returning to the themes that Iain has picked up in his overtly science fiction books (which he writes under the name of Iain M. Banks, a distinction which I think he now mildly regrets) and which have given him a cult following. The Wasp Factory presents a world where the certainties that Frank lives with are ones that would repel or terrify the average reader – burning dogs, tortured wasps, murders, a bizarre substitute religion in which he believes that the future is foretold by one of his grotesque killing machines, which kills its animal victims in a dozen different ways. So why was the book so popular?

His answer is that he thinks readers get the joke – “it was a hoot and a giggle” – in a way that critics certainly didn’t. A number of reviewers wondered how a publisher could stoop so low in letting the book onto the streets. Why can’t they get it, he wonders? “It’s a simple method, gross exaggeration. Being a science fiction writer helps – the term is extrapolation but it’s basically exaggeration.” When Eric, a brother whom Frank hasn’t killed, emerges from an old-style psychiatric hospital, it allows Frank to appear normal by comparison, but readers learn of the strange happenings in his past. By the end of the story, Franks makes a discovery that is clearly one of the most important of his life and will shape his future. We do mention in the course of the programme what this revelation is, simply because the book has been around for long enough for that to seem reasonable, but I won’t talk about it here, in case some of you are reading the book for the first time. Let’s just say that it changes his identity.

The story is set in a community in the far north of Scotland, which Iain knows well, on an island. Frank’s father Angus, an eccentric doctor, is part of the psychological puzzle of the novel, going every now and again to Inverness to sell drugs, which he makes at home, and perhaps sharing some of the Frank’s attitude towards women – in the absence of a mother in the house, he rails against the betrayals of women, even Mrs Clampy, the housekeeper, who is a bastion of sanity in the place. Iain is happy to describe it as a psychological study : Frank creates not just a physical environment that suits him, and his urges, but a mythological one too. Iain is as convinced as aetheist as you are ever likely to meet (he will acknowledgement that perhaps 1% of him is simply agnostic, but no more). Iain says, as you might expect, that he’s always found Frank a fascinating character, but he echoed the feelings of surely nearly every reader of the book when he said that he wouldn’t like to find himself living next door to him.

I don’t know if you agree with the reviewer who said that he found it incomprehensible that a publisher could have stooped to such levels of depravity (that was The Irish Times) or with one of our readers who said that, having not expected to enjoy it, she found herself reading the gory and funny bits to her husband on a long car journey and laughing out loud. Either way, it was a landmark book – a piece of gothic fiction and fantasy that established Iain Banks’ career and seem to fit happily into the early 80s punk-influenced popular culture. I hope you enjoy the programme."

If you've not heard the programme before, do give it a go. I'm sure you'll enjoy it!

Andrew

Whit

On Tuesday I finished re-reading Whit by Iain Banks. When I first read this, around 14 years ago, I really enjoyed it and remember feeling it was perhaps a bit under-rated in comparison with other books in Banks' canon. 14 years on, has my opinion changed?

In a word, no, although I'm not sure whether this is under-rated any more - judging by reviews on Amazon, it seems to be quite well loved.

Whit is the story of Isis, the Elect of God, who has led a cloistered life in a religious community on the banks of the River Forth in central Scotland. Isis' world is turned upside down when it is discovered that her cousin Morag - an internationally renowned musician living in London - has found a new faith and will not be returning for the four yearly Festival of Love.

It is decided that Isis must go on a mission to London to find Morag and seek to return her to the Faith. On returning from this mission, however, Isis discovers that her world has changed even more than she had imagined and she finds herself beginning a new, more personal mission.

Banks has never made a secret of his views on organised religion and this story reflects them fully. He creates what his protagonist accepts is a cult complete with a charismatic leader, some grounding in various extant religions and it's own rituals and sacraments. Having constructed this world, he sets about tearing it apart.

The book is more than a none-too-subtle snipe at religiousity, however. Banks also explores the nature of power, the tension it creates, it's ability to corrupt and the potential for hypocracy. On the other hand, he also seeks to explore whether faith should be blind or informed - whether the good of the community should trump .

The impact of a life lived away from the rest of society is also a central theme - Isis is portrayed as both intelligent and well-versed in the ways of her people and hopelessly naive and ignorant when she leaves the community.

While these themes are there to be explored and teased, this is far from a heavy novel. Unlike many of Banks' other books, the story is told in a linear fashion - albeit with flashbacks - which makes it more accessible than, say, Walking on Glass. The pace of the book is swift and the writing has, for the most part, a lightness of touch.

After 14 years, I'm glad I enjoyed it as much as I did. I hope I'll not be leaving it another 14 years!


Andrew

For other Book Reviews, see here.

Books of 2009 - Part 3

This is the final selection of mini reviews of the books I've read this year. These are all from the second half of the year when my reading rate went down considerably.

The Liar by Stephen Fry - A wonderfully constructed novel, written with the deftness of touch that you'd expect from Fry. With autobiographical elements, the book traces the public school and university life of Adrian Healy, recounting the events that led him on a continental tour with his professor, Donald Trefusis.

Firmin by Sam Savage - This was a fantastic story told by the eponymous hero - who happens to be a rat. His mother made her nest in a bookshop, and Firmin stays when she dies and his siblings leave. He develops a relationship with the shopkeeper who is facing the immanent closure of his store. Can Firmin do anything to help?

A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wolstonecraft - Unfortunately I never got finished this. One for next year now.

The Whole Day Through by Patrick Gale - I really want to read Gale's "Notes on an Exhibition" but picked this up as a special offer. Taking place over the course of a day, this is a story about missed opportunities and regrets. The main characters are former lovers meeting by chance after many years - but each carries their own baggage, expectations, commitments and competing demands.

Paddy Clark Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle - Doyle expertly writes from the point of view of 10 year old boy. In what is almost a stream of consciousness, the narration jumps from one subject to another in the way children's conversation often does. A vivid picture is created of the Ireland of the 60's and the families and community that it created.

The last two books completed were Transition by Iain Banks and Northern Lights by Philip Pullman - click the link at the bottom of this post to see my thoughts on them.

Andrew

You can see more book reviews, including the previous two Books of the year selections, here.

Books of 2009 - Part 2

Following on from this post in which every two line review was three lines, here is the next batch of the books I have read in 2009.

Look Who It Is by Alan Carr - I've never been much of one for Biography, especially not Celebrity Autobiography, but this was being sold by the book man at work, and I thought it might be worth a giggle for a fiver. The tone of the book was very much as you'd expect, and it was an enjoyable enough read - especially for fans of the self-styled "Tooth Fairy".

The Crow Road by Iain Banks - As mentioned elsewhere on this blog, I am engaged in an exercise of re-reading all my Banks' books. The Crow Road is a family epic, telling the story of three generations of the leading family in a small highland town. While things may seem respectable - if tragedy prone - on the surface, below the facade things are far from normal...

Complicity by Iain Banks - My first Banks and still one of my favourites, even if I'd forgotten how graphic some of the violence is - indeed, for my money it is a more graphic novel than the much more widely read The Wasp Factory. It tells the story of a journalist investigating a series of bizarre tortures and murders. Not one for the squeamish!

The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels - For a political tract that was published over 150 years ago this was, in relative terms, quite straightforward to read, although the various prefaces to subsequent editions with which my edition was furnished became a bit repetitive and unnecessary. For those interested in the politics of the left, and how practical communism has differed from the theory it is well worth the effort.

Somewhere Towards the End by Diana Athill - Quite simply a fantastic book. Athill is 92 and facing the end of life square on. She writes about the lessons life has taught her with a light and magical touch. Whether discussing sexual conquests, relationships or the imminence of death, she does so with wit, charm, candour and the wisdom of her years.

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown - I read this in anticipation of the film coming out but then never went to see it. As with The Da Vinci Code, for which this is the template, Brown tells a ripping yarn in short, moreish chapters. It's easy to be snobby about the quality of the writing itself but this does exactly what it says on the tin. That said, it'll be a while before I brave another of his books!

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman - Having read Good Omens - Gaiman's collaboration with Terry Pratchett - I finally got round to reading one of his own books. Set in the fantasy world of "London Below", inhabited by the people who have fallen through the cracks, this is a quest novel in which our unwitting hero battles for something which no one has previously achieved - return to normal life in London Above.

So that's the second batch - a third and final batch soon!


Andrew

Transition

As you may know I love reading although at times other things seem to get in the way and I don't get through books as fast as I'd like. I've had this experience over the past couple of months but a couple of days ago I finally finished Transition by Iain Banks - here's a brief review:


14 years ago, I read "Complicity" by Iain Banks. It's a darkly comic novel about a journalist who is drawn into investigating a series of bizarre (and graphic) tortures and murders. So began my love of Banks' general fiction. (For those who don't know, Banks writes contemporary fiction as Iain Banks and Science Fiction as Iain M Banks).

I followed up Complicity with The Wasp Factory (Bank's first novel, and a very highly recommended read) and gradually worked through the rest of his books. Having caught up and read them all, I'm now re-reading them, slotting in his new works as they come. And so to Transition...

My anticipation for this book was tempered with some trepidation. Banks' last two fiction books - 2002's Dead Air and 2007's The Steep Approach to Garbadale had failed to impress me. The latter was particularly disappointing as advanced publicity seemed to suggest he was back on form. Had the magic touch deserted Banks for good, or could he produce something in keeping with his reputation?

Transition is set on a series of parallel worlds, all of them earth-like, some more developed than others. An organisation known variously as The Concern or l'Expedience has discovered and harnessed a drug-induced ability to "transition" between these realities. As many of the realities are slightly more developed versions of others, the effects seen on the leading Earths can be averted by changes in a lagging versions. The Concern exists to manage these benign interventions.

At least, that is the message given to those in "Open" worlds where most people are aware of the multiple realities and existence of The Concern. Those in Closed worlds have no such awareness and are therefore at the whim of the decisions of the central council.

The novel revolves around a power struggle between Madame d'Ortolan and Mrs Mulverhill. d'Ortolan is the dominant figure on the council and has her own ideas about the purpose and intent of The Concern. Mulverhill was a senior member in the Transitionary Office who feels The Concern has gone to far. The central narrator is former pupil of Mulverhill's who acts as a Transitionary acting on orders from the council. His interventions range from saving lives to taking lives.

As with some of Banks' best works, he is not afraid to play around with the conventional structure of a novel. The story is told through a series of different narrators, who by turns advance the story and relate the history of the concern and the central characters. Gradually these come together, although as with the best books and films, there are still some questions at the end.

So, what did I think? Well, it isn't the perfect novel; there are some ideas that are introduced and not developed - one of the realities is in the grip of a threat from Christian Terrorists. There are also, perhaps, too many narrative strands. The character of Adrian, who is in some ways a standard Banks' character, could have been introduced through the narrative strand of Mrs Mulverhill, for example. While it does have flaws, though, none of these are fatal.

Overall, it is an enjoyable read set in a series of strange, yet often familiar, realities. Once the book establishes it's rhythm of alternate narrators, it is also an easy read (albeit with some uneasy passages). While some of the political and social issues may not be explored fully, the book does, ultimately, have a satisfactory feel of justice prevailing.

When I read a novel, I would normally decide on completion whether it is a book I would want to re-read, and therefore keep, or whether it is bound for Oxfam. Had this been a novel by any other author, I suspect I would keep it, which is not something I'd have said for either Dead Air or The Steep Approach to Garbadale. On that measure, therefore, I am happy to recommend it.

Where does it come in relation to Banks' other work, though? Well, laying aside the question as to whether this belongs in the Iain Banks or Iain M Banks canon; I think it's his best book since A Song of Stone, and possibly earlier. It's certainly an easier read than A Song of Stone, which is written entirely in the third person.


Andrew

Click here for more posts related to books.
For more about Iain Banks see here.

the widow's web, part one

This is the first in what I intend to be an occasional feature sharing websites I have come across. There is no set criteria, other than that I have either liked them or they have intrigued me in some way. They may be sites I intend to visit regularly, or sites which have I'll never visit again. Whatever the reason for inclusion, follow the links and have a nosey...


The Rubble Club has been established as an organisation dedicated to buildings that have been deliberately destroyed or altered in the lifetimes of their architects, but without their involvement. I first became aware of it through this BBC News article about the Forth Road Bridge Tollbooths and Canopy.

The site has a Scottish bias at present, but as time goes on, more and more from the rest of the UK will be featured. Background details are provided for each entry with the opportunity for comments to be added in each case.


The Ghostbikes site is a completely different proposition, although it is also about remembrance. In this case, it is about the memory of cyclists who have died in road accidents.

A bike is stripped of it's working elements and painted white and then chained to a suitable spot near the accident. A plaque can be added to give details of the deceased. A photo of the bike is then posted on the site with further details as a tribute.

One of my colleagues heard about ghostbikes on the wireless and a quick Google search found the site. While it may seem a bit ghoulish, particularly when looking through it as a third party, I think it is a simple but effective way of highlighting the dangers that cyclists face on the roads.


The final site in this selection is the official Iain (M) Banks site. Iain Banks (without the M) is one of my favourite authors, and I dip into this site now and again for updates on publication dates, interviews and other features.

If you are unfamiliar with his work, the site features information of each of his books to date. I would, personally, urge you to check out The Wasp Factory which is one of my all time favourite novels.