Zusammenfassung
Zusammenfassung
Ferociously intelligent, both witty and horrific, this novel from Ian M. Banks, author of 'Consider Phlebas' and 'The player of Games', is science fiction at its best.
Rezensionen (2)
Guardian Review
Are sci-fi enthusiasts different from readers of so-called literary fiction? On the evidence of the questions directed at Iain Banks when he came to discuss Use of Weapons at the Guardian Book Club (pictured), enthusiasts were just as concerned with issues of narrative structure and coherent characterisation as any McEwan or Ishiguro buff. An admiring reader who described Banks's novel as "one of the most cleverly constructed books I have ever read" was typical. The novel turns on a shocking revelation, near its end, about its apparently heroic protagonist. "It may have been telegraphed," said one reader, "but I still fell out of my chair when I got to it." "I read the key page three times, to be sure I really had read what I thought I had," another commented. Banks was pressed on the logic of this carefully rigged surprise, and explained it with close reference to the chain of inferences that an attentive reader had been invited to make through the book. The other main emphasis of questions was on the book's political freight. Intervening in the affairs of benighted worlds is the Culture, an intergalactic civilisation characterised not just by supreme technological power but also what its inventor called "well-armed liberal niceness". There was much discussion of the Culture and whether its powers meant Banks's SF was utopian. "There are lots of different strategies for dealing with the difficulty of representing utopia," observed one member of the audience, adding: "People don't dare write utopian novels; dystopian ones are so much more fashionable." Another reader noted that the warrior protagonist encounters worlds whose societies are hierarchical and go to war over scarce resources. Was the Culture not beneficent simply because it had "limitless resources", and therefore able to transcend the acquisitiveness that was actually a natural human condition? Another reader, closely versed in the Iain M Banks oeuvre, pointed out that "utopian" was an odd word for fiction that dramatised so much "brutality" (he had a litany of examples). Was the novelist out to juxtapose the serene benignity of the Culture with the violence that so often confronted it? The author agreed utopias were "boring", and that the Culture was a useful fictional device because it kept engaging with worlds where fear and appetite might prevail. "Story implies conflict." He was interested in the clash between utopianism and imperfection. What about the powers of the Culture? "Are you painting yourself into a corner on Culture technology?" wondered a reader who suggested the increasing need for explanation put a strain on the author's ability to imagine a coherent technology for this super-advanced civilisation. "Potentially, yes!" replied the novelist, though he implied he still had a firm grasp on some of the ideas about technology hazarded in the earliest Culture books. Among all the solemn talk of four-dimensional space and concentric universes, it was a relief to be reminded by one member of the audience that a vein of humour ran through Banks's SF tales. The novelist accepted one reader's invitation to admit that he found writing SF far more "fun" than writing other kinds of fiction. He could "pull out the stops". A reader seemed to speak for others when he wished for film versions of Iain M Banks books. The author confessed both his delight at the thought of his books being filmed, and his utter lack of interest in contributing to any film versions. "I have a bigger special effects budget. Mine is infinite, Mr Lucas, I think you'll find." As he confessed this, he also declared, perhaps to the disappointment of some Iain M Banks fans, that you were less likely to find subtlety of characterisation in science fiction than in other kinds of novel. Banks told us that he needed the alternation between his SF and his non-SF novels, but one reader tried to convince him otherwise. Iain M Banks was, he told the author, far superior to Iain Banks and, indeed, the latter's latest work of literary fiction, Stonemouth, was "very pedestrian, I would say - even though I'm a big fan of yours". He should stick to the SF. Banks guffawed at the perfect combination of insult and compliment. John Mullan is professor of English at University College London. Next week he looks at Pat Barker's Regeneration. - John Mullan Caption: Captions: To order a copy of Use of Weapons for pounds 5.39 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846 Are sci-fi enthusiasts different from readers of so-called literary fiction? On the evidence of the questions directed at Iain Banks when he came to discuss Use of Weapons at the Guardian Book Club (pictured), enthusiasts were just as concerned with issues of narrative structure and coherent characterisation as any McEwan or Ishiguro buff. An admiring reader who described Banks's novel as "one of the most cleverly constructed books I have ever read" was typical. The novel turns on a shocking revelation, near its end, about its apparently heroic protagonist. "It may have been telegraphed," said one reader, "but I still fell out of my chair when I got to it." "I read the key page three times, to be sure I really had read what I thought I had," another commented. Banks was pressed on the logic of this carefully rigged surprise, and explained it with close reference to the chain of inferences that an attentive reader had been invited to make through the book. - John Mullan.
Booklist-Rezension
Banks' latest novel of the far-future Culture reads like a successful crossbreeding of Star Wars and Len Deighton. It has the breakneck pacing and space-opera spectacle of the first and the detail and realistic, even pessimistic, characterization of the second. The plot re~volves around a futuristic version of the classic burned-out secret agent who's dragged back into harness and who's got a strong desire to settle old scores with employers who used him up and threw him away. The complexity of the Culture universe is likely to daunt some readers, and having read the previous Culture opus, Consider Phlebas (Bantam, 1991), won't help all that much. It will, however, likely have given readers a taste for Banks' original takes on old themes. Highly recommended. ~--Roland Green