As I am winding down my PhD, I’m finding myself more and more drawn to science fiction in my pleasure reading. I feel like I might be struggling from a 4 year overdose on “literary” fiction so that when I start encountering obvious symbols/allegories or complex characters, my pulse begins to plummet rapidly. This is not to say that science fiction does not have these things as Iain M. Banks’s The Player of Games is a complex, rich, and richly rewarding work of science fiction. For better or worse, science fiction is becoming my “escape” literature in that I feel no compulsion to analyse the novel’s texture or narrative, no need to think about how this might relate to other works I have read, and no anxiety about how this might change the course of my dissertation/research. I can just read it and enjoy it.
And Banks’ The Player of Games is a great read. I encountered his first Culture novel last year, and loved that one. However, I would say that this second novel is a much better one. Where I had trouble empathizing with Horza, Consider Phlebas’s protagonist, I developed a deep connection to Jurnau Gurgeh, one of the Culture’s best game players who lives an idyllic life on an Orbital. He grows somewhat bored with a life of playing, thinking about, analysing, and theorizing the myriad games that the galaxy has to offer and ends up, via some drone blackmail, travelling to a distant Empire built entirely around a single, massively complex game called Azad. In the interest of full disclosure, I am an avid board gamer who hosts a board game night once every three weeks or so and craves the complexity and deep pleasure of playing a good game. So The Player of Games immediately appealed to me. But Banks also does an incredible job of weaving the theme of game playing into the narrative itself as Gurgeh senses that on some level he is being “played” by Culture in his trip to play Azad.
I suppose The Player of Games felt a bit like Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left-Hand of Darkness in that it is deeply anthropological. It lays out a complex empire for readers to study and think about. Yet where le Guin’s novel occasionally felt too distant for me, Banks includes humor, intrigue, and action to keep readers interested. In fact, I found the novel so compelling that it became my reward for a hard day’s work of revising my cumbersome and lengthy dissertation. There were a number of moments in The Player of Games where the Empire that we encounter feels eerily similar to our own, a parallel that I am sure Banks intends. Of course, the fact that Banks is writing space opera – a genre that is largely disconnected from our reality and makes little to no attempt to connect them – seems to complicate this, but I’m not sure it does. Instead, we encounter an imaginative world animated by desires and impulses that are very similar to our own. This is an intriguing form of meta-critique that masks as pure entertainment. Or maybe masks is the wrong word. Instead, it doubles as critique and entertainment. Either way, I’m sold and Use of Weapons is already sitting on my bed side table, waiting for me to finish a few other books.
Overall, I would highly recommend this book to any fans of science fiction. In fact, I would recommend starting here rather than with Consider Phlebas because this one seems more polished and coherent.
Banks, Iain M. The Player of Games. London: MacMillan London, 1988. Print.