Dark humor amid the themes
of alienation and disappointment (5/5)
The first set of short stories
I read was in 2007 and it is this collection showcased here: The State of
the Art (1991) by Iain Banks. Since then, I've covered more than sixty other
collections but none has made as big an impression on me as The State of the
Art; the book is intellectually infused with humor, insight, emotion, the
human and alien condition, and keen whit. Re-reading this collection, I realize
that it remains my primary influence to write fiction—my few stories resemble
the themes and emotions in The State of the Art.
Iain Banks has always been my
favorite author ever since I read The Algebraist (2004) earlier in 2007,
just before picking and becoming
immersed in The State of the Art. While Greg Bear may have started my
love affair with science fiction in 2006, Iain Banks sent me in a
head-over-heels throe of passion for the genre which hasn’t slacked even after
six full years. I continue to read new books but still slake from the fountain
of youth, the invigorating stream of science fiction (and fiction) from Iain
Banks. I’ve always sought out every one of his novels and have always relished
the contents, never once having been disappointed by a short story, a
piece of fiction or a voluminous tome of science fiction.
I was crushed when I learnt of
his pending death on April 3, 2013. When he died on June 9, 2013, I felt a loss
almost as great as when I lost my grandmother. That was the day I finally
finished by first piece of science fiction. Iain Banks, the author who could do
no wrong, the writer who inspired me to read and write, the Scotsman who
snuck his own regional lingo into my speech, the looming intellect who taught
me words yet facilitated in fostering my appreciation for sentences,
paragraphs, short stories, novels, and the language as a whole… yes,
he’ll be sorely missed.
------------
Road of Skulls (shortstory, 1988) – 4/5 – Jostled by the protruding
skulls which line the Road, a singular carriage makes its way to the City. Its
passengers, Sammil Mc9 and his nameless, dimwitted companion, pass the time
sleeping in the dung-encrusted hay of the quadrupedal onuses. The distant,
elusive city seems always perched upon the horizon, much as Sammil’s promise of
a story to his companion is always set to begin. --- 6 pages --- I love the
vague nature of this story—the where, why, and when. It’s simple in the sense
that these two ruffians are on their way to the City on the Road paved with
skulls, but the story of the City and its Road is given a cursory glance which
is deeper in meaning than the rest of the compact plot.
A Gift from the Culture (shortstory, 1987) – 4/5 –
Wrobik, a moniker for the man’s much longer Culture name, was once of a member
of the Contact section yet now lives a so-called simple life on a non-Culture
planet. Life isn’t simple because gambling and losing real money pisses off
real people, and those people have real problems, too. Due to his debts, Wrobik
is given a Culture gun in order to shoot down an approaching starship. He’s
stunned to learn a Culture ambassador is aboard. --- 19 pages --- Most, if not
all, of Banks’ work with the Culture involves people living life outside
the Culture (on Earth with Contact or elsewhere with Special Circumstances).
This probes the anti-utopian resentment some members of the Culture have—is the
glossy, carefree life of freedom and expression everything to everyone?
What would an individual sacrifice for a life outside of that comfort
zone?
Odd Attachment (shortstory, 1989) – 4/5 – An arboreal shepherd tends
his flock of juveniles while soaking in his melancholy of admiration ignored.
Woebegone due to love and stymied by his precociousness of his dumb flock, the
shepherd idly eyes the sky only to see a seed-shaped craft descend from the
sky. The quad-furcated being quarries
the clueless flock and is shocked to see the plantlike being react. The man in
his grasp, the plant counts the ways. --- 7 pages --- Simple yet humorous and
horrific, this exemplifies Banks’ writing style; nothing is out of place, over
the top or underwhelming. Chide the story for its role reversal in the
conclusion, but one can’t say it isn’t rather silly.
Descendant (novelette, 1987) – 5/5 – Fallen from the wreckage of a
spacecraft and isolated on an airless planet 1,000 kilometers of barren yet
challenging terrain, a human body and its intelligent suit take the
excruciating journey across the ubiquitously grey landscape towards an
uncertain-existing base. Damaged internally and externally, both the man and
the suit survive day by day with each other’s voice, though their companionship
is also what divides them. --- 24 pages --- The perfect blend of abandonment
and isolation, pain and suffering, and hope and illusion; little did I realize
when I finished my first short story in 2013 did it strongly resemble this
story that I had forgotten about from six years prior. The bleakness of its
noir/Ellison-esque theme really awakens my involvement in the story, a turn for
the better considering the amount of soppy optimism in modern science fiction.
Cleaning Up (shortstory, 1987) – 5/5 – An opalescent cigar-shaped
object drops on an American barn—the humans are dumbfounded. More enshrouded
objects fall all over the world and the humans learn little by little: these
“gifts” are advanced and can be used for military application. In the gaseous
realms of deep space lurks a conversion machine and its hapless crew who
discover that they’re transporting low-quality objects to the wrong place, but
the paperwork is a debacle and still weeks away from completion. --- 19 pages --- This is the most memorable of
the stories from the collection even after six years of idleness on my shelves.
It’s not the reaction of the humans to the “gifts” but the continuing folly of
the aliens which makes the story smile-worthy.
Piece (shortstory, 1989) – 4/5 – A man recounts his lifetime of
experience and coincidences prior to boarding an aircraft on a December flight
from London to New York. Penning a letter his son or nephew, perhaps, he tells
a number of small incidences in which a book he had been reading involved him
in an experience with his fellow man. These instances have instilled a
pragmatic view of humanistic determination in 1988. --- 9 pages --- Not science
fiction, but a great story nonetheless. If the reader understands a bit of
1980’s British history, then the conclusion will pack a punch. This also became
one sources of inspiration when I had to write a narrative essay for my
graduate course in Philosophy of Education; I wrote a similar piece but it took
place in Belorussia 1986 (the professor loved it but I've never pushed its publication).
The State of the Art (novella, 1989) – 4/5 – It’s 1977 and the Culture
have finally found Earth with its expanding halo of electronic emissions
through near space. The Contact section sends its representatives down in human
disguise to rummage through Earth’s more subtle nuances while the Mind in the
General Contact Unit ship, the Arbitrary, funnels all of Earth’s most
detailed data into its memory. The contacts earthside live comfortable is not
busy lives. One contact member in Paris, Linter, becomes placidly adept with
adjusting to life as a human and so wishes to remain on Earth. In the Arbitrary,
a less human-standard man and lecher named Li stirs the metaphorical pot of whether
the Contact unit should or should not make official contact with the
Earthlings; further, Li humorously attempts to become the “captain” of the naturally
captain-less ship in order to euthanize the pathetic human race of mongrels and
rabble-rousers. --- 102 pages --- This novella so desires to be a 5-star read but
is ultimately held back by the character named Li who predictably bashed
humanity (as a spokesman for Banks, himself?) to a rather dull degree, all of
which everyone has heard before. However, the story does ooze Banks’
singlehanded flare of alienation (no pun intended) from the Culture with Linter
finding comfort in humanity’s backwardness, primality, and ability to hope. The
capstone of artistic talent lays with Bank’s approach—the tale is told by the
Drone (Offensive) Skaffen-Amtiskaw and is formatted with unique non-standard
indentation (possibly a Culture norm?).
Scratch (shortstory, 1987) – 4/5 – A human tragedy born from its own
genetic faults, fostered by the corrupting forces of bureaucracy and
capitalism, and finally highlighted by its intrinsic motivation to entertain
itself rather than speculate about everything else. The human tragedy can be
witnessed through its petty focus on passing dalliances while the larger
picture remains entirely unfocused, blurred along with the millions, billions
of years of evolution. --- 9 pages --- Undoubtedly an experimental piece akin
to the Brunner’s collage of passages and excerpts in the “The Happening World”
of his novel Stand on Zanzibar (1968). Lacking sentence structure,
common letter case or train of thought, the structure lies on a higher plane
than word, sentence or paragraph—chapter, titles, conclusion, and composition.
Banks is a master! I read PLAYER OF GAMES in 1992 when I was first getting into SF and it. blew. me. away. It was indeed heartbreaking when he died; he seemed so alive and vital and funny (watch his interviews on YouTube).
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