This takes place on an island in Scotland, with a wild cast of characters. The beginning was quite compelling, and I could tell early on that I would like the author's style. His prose and imagery is beautifully horrific.

Frank's perspective is fascinating. He spends his days performing a sort of personalized magic. He kills things for his sacrifice poles. He names his tools and imbues them with power by covering them with his blood and urine. He has an altar decorated with various powerful things, tokens from different important life events. He holds his crotch and closes his eyes while repeating secret catechisms. The eponymous Wasp Factory is a tool he uses for divination.

It's interesting contrasting Frank with his brother Eric. Before the start of the book Eric has become a delusional lunatic. Frank thinks he went crazy after a traumatic event--he was too sensitive, "thought too much like a woman." Eric, who was clever and kind as a boy, is overly aggressive and nonsensical as a man broken by the world. Frank, on the other hand, has never left the island and is a different kind of mad. He overcompensates for his lack of a dick by "out-man[ning] those around me...I became the killer, a small image of the ruthless soldier-hero almost all I've ever seen or read seems to pay strict homage to." He believes killing "is what men are really for. Both sexes can do one thing specially well; women can give birth and men can kill." The twist ending, however, makes all this incredibly ironic. I won't say more than that. But it's amazing.

I love Iain Banks as an author and as a human being (may he rest in peace) and it is only my usual dislike for science fiction (with a few feminist exceptions) that discouraged me from picking up this book earlier.

I should not be surprised that it's a book about weapons, war and masculine pursuits - it says so on the tin. It took me a while to become engaged with the story, but the narrative achieved an unexpected result - I cared about the barbaric soldier at its centre and I empathised with his feelings of guilt and regret.

The full extent of the chair and warship images doesn't become clear until near the end, and the time shifts frequently threw me so I had to work hard to keep abreast of the action. The payback was worth it and although I may not grab any more of Iain M Banks' sci-fi, I am glad I read this one.

Series: Culture #5

This was another audiobook reread and a revisiting of my first Culture book (I know it's fifth in the series, but I started reading them out of order), and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The narrator was quite good, so I may consider audio versions of Banks in the future, although I'm not sure I'd do anything other than a reread because some of the ship discourse can be confusing in this medium.

I loved the ships, disliked the immature characters (I think Ulver is the only who shows any personal growth throughout, and she was a tantrum-throwing drama queen to start), and wasn't fussy over the Affront (although I do like how they got their name), but it was a fun romp overall and I enjoyed it.

Series: Culture #3

I'm still not a fan of this book, although the twist at the end made me less mad this time around. It actually starts off in a fairly promising fashion, as a kind of sci-fi romp that follows this guy skilled at war and who basically hires himself out as a mercenary. Sort of.

But then the story starts to get bogged down in itself, and the two interleaved timelines become less interesting. I have to say that the whole twist hinges on a few ambiguous lines. Also that last chapter (from the "old" or background timeline) is a cheat.

I'm going to get to hash it out with my friends and complain to my heart's content so it's not all bad, right?

I'm also counting this for the "Genre: Suspense" square for the 2018 Halloween Bingo.