Iain M. Banks’ Short Sci-Fi Fiction: The State of the Art

TheStateoftheArtI apologize for the long delay in posting reviews. Frankly, I haven’t been reading much this month largely because I have been busy defending my PhD. It’s now done, and I’ve been rattling off books already.

Like Iain M. Banks’ 1991 collection of short fiction The State of the Art. I was a little nervous about reading sci-fi short stories for some reason. The short story is a tough form to master because you are so limited in your space that it can become difficult to construct meaningful and compelling narratives. Science fiction, for me anyways, often requires a time and page commitment to really work. I think back to Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left-Hand of Darkness and how long it took me to start “getting” the book. One way that Banks works around this is to set a few of the stories in the Culture universe he has explored in his novels. Being familiar with this world, those stories ended up being the most enjoyable for me. However, I can also see how readers unfamiliar with that world might be somewhat offput by this intertextual connection.

That being said, I think the title story is worth the price of admission alone. It actually explains the Culture’s modus operandi better than his novels do. This might be because it is a short story and cannot presume foreknowledge of the Culture. It might also be because this was an early story by Banks, one in which he first sketched out the contours of his alternative universe. Either way, the story is amazing. It concerns an expedition to Earth by a Contact unit and the ensuing debate over whether to initiate contact or to simply stand back and observe human history as a control case. There is a fair amount of philosophizing on Earth’s history and trajectory (more than you would find in one of his novels), but this works because the story is explicitly about the Culture’s potential relation to Earth. I highly enjoyed it.

As for the other stories, I felt that some were stronger than others. “A Gift From Culture” was an interesting story which concerned a sleeper agent of sorts on an alien world and the loyalties he must choose between. “Descendant” was a fantastic story concerning a spaceman shot down from orbit and his long and seemingly futile attempt to try and reach a possibly abandoned base (he is accompanied by a sentient suit). “Piece” was an interesting story for its collage-like narrative structure, but I felt like it was a “trick” short story where the ending provides a kind of narrative ba-dump. Similarly, “Road of Skulls” and “Odd Attachment” use a kind of twist ending to provide their largest impact. For whatever reason, I just can’t get on-board with trick or twist endings in short stories. They seem like a cheat code to me. “Cleaning Up” reminded me of Karen Tei Yamashita’s Through the Arc of the Rainforest, but it lacked the depth and satire of that novel. Finally, “Scratch” is a kind of prose poem that felt like Banks experimenting with form and achieving a mixed success.

Overall, I think that the collection is worth it for the title story. The others might be interesting for regular readers of sci-fi short fiction, but they do seem a little flat to me.

Banks, Iain M. The State of the Art. London: Orbit Books, 1991. Print.

PS – I might go on a short Banks sabbatical as my pile of books to read is getting bigger each week …


Intrigue, Plots, and What to Do When You Have Everything: Excession

ExcessionI’m back in love with Iain M. Banks’ Culture series.  As I noted earlier this year, I found Use of Weapons less than gripping. However, the subsequent novel, Excession, has restored my faith in Banks’ ability to weave a compelling if very complex narrative. In this novel, a strange artifact that has briefly appeared 2500 years ago and baffled the Culture’s attempts to understand it, has suddenly reappeared. There ensues a variety of attempts by different Minds to study/control/claim the Excession and a number of tangled plots unfold. While I have to admit that at times it is difficult to keep straight which Mind is responsible for what actions, this complexity does help to deepen our experience of Banks’ imaginative world. The Culture is incredibly complex in that it is “run” (or maybe a better word is overseen) by a large number of vastly intelligent, sentient AIs who live in massive spaceships. Each of these Minds has a distinct personality and, as Excession reveals, a different sense of how the Culture should conduct itself towards other species, events, and technologies. This book, more than any others I have read, puts the Minds on center stage as primary characters. I really liked it and hope that the rest of the books continue this trend because the human characters are sometimes weaker or less interesting.

This weakness may be because most of the human characters ultimately have little sense of purpose or guiding desires in their lives. They live very affluent lives with very little to fear as their genetically modified bodies can self-repair, any desires or needs are easily met by the Culture’s many technologies, and they always have the option to Store themselves  (enter a kind of cryogenic sleep) or be reincarnated into another body. Basically any of the desires and needs that guide our own lives are entirely absent from theirs. They have no need to worry about jobs, food, pleasure, or other such mundane concerns. Instead, they find various ways to entertain themselves – Jernau immerses himself in the study and mastery of all different kinds of games in The Player of Games while Cheradenine Zakalwe finds the improvising and difficult work of being a Contact agent fulfilling in Use of Weapons – with most content to live pampered lives aboard the huge General Systems Vehicles (GSV) or Orbital (massive ring worlds). What makes the two primary human characters of Excession interesting – Byr Genar-Hofoen who is a Contact agent living amongst a brutally cruel species called the Affront and Dajeil who is living a self-imposed exile aboard an Eccentric ship that reconstructs historical battles with Stored bodies – is the ways that they find meaning. Byr tries to sleep with every woman he meets while Dajeil is a committed scientist of sorts who believes in a monogamy. Their relationship becomes a key part of a plot between various ships that is ultimately secondary to the conflict around the Excession.

Now, I found this part of the book less compelling because it lacked the kind of weight that the Excession plot holds, and yet it is a crucial part of the way that Banks moves between events of a massive scale and the tiny human-scale. Banks has the difficult task of trying to keep from being caught up in the epic events of a potentially cataclysmic event and alienating readers in the process. I believe that the human plot is a way of keeping the novel more intimate. And yet, it seems a lesser part of the narrative for some reason. I won’t spoil the ending, but he does weave the two plots together in a compelling way that helps shed light on the Minds’ strange habits and obsessions.

Overall I would highly recommend this book to fans of Banks’ Culture series. However, I wouldn’t recommend this as a first foray into his world as it requires a fair bit of background knowledge to pick up some of its humor and various plots.

Banks, Iain M. Excession. London: Orbit, 1997. Print.

Space Opera Again but This Time with Less Excitement: Use of Weapons

UseofWeaponsI am not sure what to make of Iain M. Banks’ work. I loved The Player of Games and while I enjoyed Consider Phlebas I found the initial learning curve a little steep. Use of Weapons  is Banks’ third full novel set in the Culture universe and I had the chance to read it over the last few weeks. The fact that it took a few weeks rather than a few days to read should be signal enough that I found this novel less than absolutely enthralling. It might be that the central theme of Player of Games, game-playing in various forms,  is really what hooked me whereas the central theme of Use of Weapons, the place of war and violence in several characters’ lives, was somewhat less appealing. I am not quite sure what to make of this difference in reaction. One thing does stand out to me, and that is that Banks certainly does not rest on his laurels and simply reproduce similar plots/themes/motifs. Use of Weapons stands apart from the other two Culture novels I have read.

Perhaps part of my ambivalent reaction stems from the narrative structure which tells two story-lines. The first concerns the attempt by Diziet Sma, a Special Circumstances agent,  recruiting Zakalwe to do some of the Culture’s dirty work in a cluster of planets on the brink of all-out war. Zakalwe, a hardened mercenary who works for cash more than glory or prestige, accepts the job and finds himself embroiled in a seething and ever-changing world of cut-throat politics and bouts of intense physical action. The second story-line concerns Zakalwe’s past. He is enigmatic in that he comes from a world outside of the Culture’s reach but has long been a mercenary for the Culture. However, the trick is that Banks tells all of Zakalwe’s backstory in a reverse chronology of sorts, moving backwards into his earlier life. These chapters are numbered differently and are placed in between chapters of the chronologically forward moving narrative of his work on Voerenhutz. I found this structure confusing throughout as Zakalwe’s backstory is never clearly dated so that I found myself constantly trying to construct a straightforward history of his past. I’m guessing this was Banks’ intent as there are some pretty significant moments late on in Use of Weapons that hinge on understanding Zakalwe’s past. Looking back at it now, a few days after finishing the novel, I can appreciate the intricate structure and the narrative work it does. However, I’m not sure that it worked as much in the moment.

Where I think Use of Weapons really stands out to me is the way that slyly critiques our own culture. In one section, Banks suggests that Sma has visited Earth with her critiquing the use of electric chairs in a country that prevents “cruel and unusual punishments.” Overall, the entire novel itself critiques war by showing the Culture and the local oppressors using it as a means to various ends with no real regard for the human bodies involved. I think a subplot throughout the three Culture novels I have read is whether the Culture itself is good or bad as they seem variously benign and benevolent or cruel, cold, and extremely calculating (especially in the scene where Zakalwe is extracted from a war he has just managed to turn towards his side against all odds in order for a kind of deus ex machina move to keep the system’s political honchos happy). Zakalwe is a weapon throughout the novel and he ruminates on his status as such. Sometimes he seems to accept and revel in it while at other times he seems deeply disturbed by it, perhaps even ruined by the violence he has enacted on others.

Overall I would say that Use of Weapons is a very good book. I’m not sure why I couldn’t get into it, but it certainly places above Consider Phlebas for me because of its narrative sophistication and the complex thinking it does on war, violence, and morality.

I would recommend Use of Weapons for sci-fi fans, but stand by my assertion that it is probably best to start with Player of Games if you haven’t encountered Banks’ work before.

Banks, Iain M. Use of Weapons. 1990. London, Orbit Books, 2011. Print.

Back to Space Opera and Loving It: The Player of Games

theplayerofgamesAs 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.

A Fitting Conclusion, But Is It Great?: MaddAddam

17262203I have a love/hate relationship with Margaret Atwood. I know that she is a very talented writer and has produced some very memorable books. In fact, I would even say she is one of Canada’s most important poets in the last 50 years. However, I don’t love her science-fiction, sorry her speculative fiction. It might just be that her insistence that she does not write science fiction is what irritated me into dislike. But I also think that she is just not a great sci-fi writer; she is a literary writer and this does not necessarily make her good at all genres.

MaddAddam is the final book in her post-apocalyptic series that includes Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood. Most of the characters in MaddAddam come from these two novels, but it is not necessary to have read them to understand the events of Atwood’s latest novel. In fact, she gives a good summary at the beginning of her novel to catch readers up. Toby, the novel’s main character and a former God’s Gardener, narrates most of the novel as the last survivors of a devastating plague attempt to keep themselves safe from two murderous ex-criminals. I mention God’s Gardeners because they form the core of The Year of the Flood and were the feature that set that novel apart for me when I read it. They are a cult-centred on a mixture of environmentalism, organic farming, and anti-capitalists. Atwood constructed a detailed mythology around them and even interspersed Year of the Flood with several of their hymns. In MaddAddam, she brings the two main groups at the core of each novel together by having former God’s Gardeners band together with MaddAddamites, an anti-corporate group who became involved with Crake in the first novel. Crake, by the way, was the genius renegade scientist who engineered the apocalypse and wiped away most of humanity. Not before creating a hybrid, gene-spliced humanoid race called the Crakers, whom also feature prominently in MaddAddam.

I guess part of my problem with Atwood’s science fiction is that it seems too mundane. Atwood insists that all of the technologies and events in her novels are rooted in reality. The first line of her acknowledgements read: “Although MaddAddam is a work of fiction, it does not include any technologies or biobeings that do not already exist, are not under construction, or are not possible in theory” (392). While I applaud Atwood’s desire for realism, I found that the first half of this novel was hard to get through. Something about its mundaneness, its depressing attachment to reality, left my imagination wanting. Yes, there is an element of escapism in much science fiction, but this element is part of what draws me to science fiction.

There were two things that I did really like about MaddAddam though. One, Atwood is really funny in this book. There were a number of scenes where I laughed out loud and found myself impressed by Atwood’s writing. Atwood can sometimes be a downer to read (I really like her Cat’s Eye, but it doesn’t make me too excited for getting old), but here she is raucously funny. Second, Atwood works with reading and writing in a really interesting way. Toby ends up teaching Blackbeard, a young Craker, to read, and this allows her to raise important questions about human knowledge, culture, and beliefs. I think this is where her abilities as a literary writer really shine through, and it is only a matter of time before someone writes a Master’s thesis on this topic.

So, all in all, MaddAddam is not a terrible book. In fact, it is quite good and a fitting conclusion to her series. I just was not that in to it. If you like either of the earlier novels, you will find plenty to love in this offering. If you are more like me and did not feel especially compelled by the earlier books, then it’s best to pass this one over.

Atwood, Margaret. MaddAddam. Toronto: McLelland & Stewart, 2013. Print.

Possible Futures and Precogs: The Minority Report

3674-11I have been a fan of Philip K. Dick’s work since reading his Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? two years ago. It is one of my favorite books and I have finally gotten around to dipping into Dick’s large ouevre. He published 44 novels and at least 120 short stories. There have been 10 film adaptations of his work with Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner being the most famous (even if it is a loose adaptation of Do Androids Dream). There is also a film adaptation of The Minority Report directed by Steven Spielberg with Tom Cruise taking the lead role. It  is an excellent film and I thoroughly enjoyed it when I watched it a long time ago (I’m not sure but I think Spielberg stays fairly close to Dick’s novella).

What makes The Minority Report so good is that it is not just a taut thriller but it also is a deep meditation on the meaning of free-will. It is set in the near-future where, through a series of innovations and new technologies, Police Commissioner Anderton has been able to effectively end murders. By using mutant humans who show latent psychic abilities and special machinery, the “Pre-Cogs” as they are called, can predict the future. Their prophecies are carefully combed over and the Police then arrest those who are going to commit future crimes, effectively ending violence with the would-be murderers being sent off to a detention camp for a few years. Problems arise when Anderton finds his one name listed as the future murderer of a man he does not know. What follows is a tense journey as Anderton tries to figure out whether he is being framed in some larger plot by the unemployed Army or whether he is actually in danger of killing someone.

Dick does not beat you over the head with his ideas or thoughts. Instead, he very carefully layers them under the narrative so that by the time you finish The Minority Report, you find yourself asking what just happened. And as you begin to unravel the narrative, you head backwards through the narrative, realizing that Dick has been conducting a secondary conversation beneath the surface that you did not pick up on. In a way, this is how a good crime novel should work (but often does not for me). In this novella, Dick is concerned with whether knowledge of our future actions can change the way we act. The fact that Anderton finds out that he will kill someone in the future does change his course of action, but it also forces him to consider whether the system of using prediction to incarcerate future criminals is itself just. This doubt is, of course, left hanging even by the novella’s end. Dick has readers wanting to believe in the efficiency of the system, but we simply cannot help being nagged by the doubts that it has failed (and that Dick may want us to listen to this voice).

Overall, this is a great novella. It is high-quality science fiction that everyone should read.

Dick, Philip K. The Minority Report. 1956. Mexico: Pantheon Books, 2002.Print.

* The edition that I read was printed like a read out that the Pre-Cogs produced. I liked the look of it and the change-up to my usual reading habits as I read it more like reading something on a clipboard.

Ninjas, The Apocalypse, and Mutant Creatures: The Gone-Away World

goneaway_080808040151153_wideweb__337x500And just like that, I’ve read 100 books this year. I’m a little stunned and more than a lot tired. Nick Harkaway’s The Gone-Away World somehow ended up being the last book I read this year. And I regret that because it clocks in at a hefty 498 pages. And it is a sprawling book to say the least. As my title alludes, this book contains among other things: ninjas, kung fu, satire on the British education system, satire on the war in the Middle East, benevolent pirates, satire on weapons of mass destruction, zombie-like mutant beings who come out of the fog, an evil corporation, satire on corpocracy, various funny comments on global politics, and a disquisition on the use of sheep in war. All in all, it is a rambling book that really needed an editor to help clarify and condense the narrative. Of course, it’s also a lot of fun to read because it refuses to follow narrative rules of thumb.

Even saying that, I should be clear that it took me a while to get into the narrative. I think I was a solid 200 pages in before I had a handle on what was going on and was emotionally invested in the novel. I suppose when the novel is 500 pages, this is okay on some level, but for me this was not good. It meant that this book sat for a few days and most of it had to be read yesterday. Harkaway is clearly a talented writer with a good eye for satire and poking fun at post-apocalyptic narrative and science fiction’s seriousness. At the same time, I could not help but identify various parts of the novel which could have been cut to make the novel less bulky. For instance, the first chapter sets up the narrator and his gang of Civil Freebooters being asked to step in and save the world by putting out a fire on the Pipe, the magical object that keeps the bizarre and surreal fallout from a high-tech war out from the small piece of land that humanity now lives in. The second chapter and several more that follow then step back and introduce the narrator meeting Gonzo, his best friend and lifelong ally, as a child in a sandbox. It moves forward all the way up to the present so that by the time we return to the end of the first chapter we are at page 302. That`s a 275 page flashback. In fact, flashback is not the right word at all because a flash is brief …

What I most liked about The Gone-Away World is how Harkaway sets up various set pieces of action including the final battle between the narrator, Gonzo, and his friends and the evil (almost video-game like) corporate honcho that has nefarious plans to rule the world. The scene is like a mish-mash of kung fu movies, westerns, science fiction, and James Bond thrillers all shaken together. Others include the evacuation of a town in the middle-east in the face of a gas attack, the battle between Ben Carsville (the war movie buff who is useless in actual war) and his anti-self in a former airbase ruled by a now-insane dictator (and also riffing heavily on Indiana Jones), or the attack on Gonzo`s parents that is defeated by Old Man Lubitsch`s bee-keeping skills. This was a fun read, but I`m not sure that there is much to take from the novel intellectually. If you wanted to read the book as some sort of meta-critique of pop culture, you probably could, but I think that the novel is held back too much by its length and rambliness (a good precise critical term, right?).

I would recommend this book to fans of Kurt Vonnegut, satires of pop culture, and kung fu-movie aficionados.

Harkaway, Nick. The Gone-Away World. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2008. Print.