re:mote voices: literature

Title: Consider Phlebas
Author: Iain M. Banks
Publisher: Orbit

Consider Phlebas is the third book by Iain M. Banks that I have read, the science fiction alter ego of Scottish novelist Iain Banks. However it was the first he wrote under this identity, and perhaps it shows. Though it may well have been my mood. I found the other two novels, Excession and Against A Dark Background, enjoyable enough - appreciating in particular some of the ideas that made up the Culture. Consider Phlebas being a Culture novel I thought I would also appreciate that, on the other hand I found it to be a chore. Excessive descriptions choking progression, to the point where I found myself disinterestedly skipping paragraphs in the hope that I would find something happening. The middle section in particular is indulgent, seeming to go nowhere and to take forever to get there. It seems ironic that having read a pile of Iain Banks books before reading the Wasp Factory I also found it to be dull when I got round to it.

Still there were some moments in Consider Phlebas, particularly from the idea of the Culture and the overall bigger picture of that and the war with the Idirans. A war-like race of giant aliens, the Idirans, have gone to war with the human culture that is the Culture. In a scuffle a mind has been ejected from a ship, an artificial intelligence, constructs that are at the centre of what makes up the culture. In its attempts to escape the Idiran attack ships it does something it shouldn't be able to do. The knowledge of this could change the course of the war. Unfortunately to complicate things the mind has ended up on a planet of the dead - a planet cordoned off by an elder race of aliens, a reclusive group who don't take an interest in the universe anymore. But if their space were to be desecrated in an attempt to retrieve the mind they are certainly more powerful than anything either side can understand!

The basic idea for the novel works. The rivalry between the agent of Culture's Special Circumstances and the shape changer agent of the Idirans works, as does the role of the Culture analyst. But the whole stuff with the pirate crew and the time spent on the orbital seems to be where it is all particularly lost.

Having picked up Look To Windward, Iain M. Banks' most recent novel, while reading Consider Phlebas, I can only hope that it is an improvement and more in keeping with the other pieces I have read.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: The Discrete Charms Of Charlie Monk
Author: David Ambrose
Publisher: Pocket Books

Charlie Monk is a special agent for a secret organisation. He takes part in all the latest training schemes and is regularly involved in sensitive jobs that require his special touch. When not working he likes to date a string of beautiful women and paints in his spare time. It all seems very glamorous, too cool. That is until Charlie is injured and wakes to find that the rules have changed, or more accurately that things never have been as he thought they were, and is being held prisoner.

Susan Flemyng is a scientist who specialises in memory and its manipulation. She is at the cutting edge of her field and is doing great work with trauma victims. Her husband is a brilliant surgeon, who is dedicated to travelling round the world's trouble spots helping where he can. Their son is the light of their lives and they are incredibly happy. Then no sooner has her husband died in Russia in a plane crash than she is being told that it was murder and that the company she works for was responsible.

Initially I had certain expectations about The Discrete Charms Of Charlie Monk. Loads of espionage and glamorous locations, a spy who was some how more than the ordinary, conspiracies and memory games. As it goes on it is clear that the action is more tightly contained than that, streamlining into captivity and plots and the insides of installations owned by the organisation behind it all. But in terms of conspiracy and head games once it gets to that stage of the book, that's all there is, a constant flow of keeping on top of events and trying to second guess the shadowy hand of power.

On the whole The Discrete Charms Of Charlie Monk is an easily read work that is more than just a spy book. David Ambrose hits us with some turns that aren't entirely expected and has us going for awhile. The epilogue style finish is perhaps taking things too far, adding a degree of ambiguity, which isn't necessarily helpful or smart. Regardless of that Charlie Monk is a fun read.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: Morvern Callar
Author: Alan Warner
Publisher: Vintage

Morvern Callar was the debut novel by Alan Warner. A novelist who has just published his fourth book and seen this first one released as the second film by director Lynne Ramsey. Having seen the film my curiosity was sparked, and I've read a variety of reviews of the film and of the book with interest. Especially of interest are the interpretations of the character Morvern Callar herself, interpretations that I don't necessarily see from either the film or the book - which at times leads me to the belief that some are reading to much into the narrative.

It is often said that a writer's first book is autobiographical. if one were to interpret Warner's presence in Morvern Callar then it is most likely to be as the character that kills himself just before the start. A character who is a writer and has eclectic taste in music, which to some degree certainly seems to describe the author. The effects of this character are felt throughout the book even though he is never actually in it as anything more than a corpse.

Morvern is a 21 year old shelf stacker in a remote highland town. It's off season and coming up for Christmas when her boyfriend decides to kill himself. She leaves the body lying for days, tells people that he has left her and goes through her usual routine in something of a haze. During this time she decides to use the money that he has in his account to get away on the resort holiday she has so long dreamed of. With this there are a stream of events - she realises that he has left her his finished novel for her to get published, and she decides to change it so that her name is on it, and she comes into an inheritance that he had signed over to her. This leaves her sorted for cash with her and her best friend heading off to Spain - living it up in the sun and raving all night. While this seemed like exactly what she wanted it immediately feels hollow to her, and she has to run further away - finding somewhere more excluded still.

Morvern Callar, for me at least, is an enigma. Many are keen to make declarations of who she is, what she stands for. On the one hand Morvern is a woman that is young and likes to party - a child of the raves, to some degree - from the house parties in the highlands to massive warehouse events in Spain. On top of that she changes the name on the book and tries to publish it as her own, removes all the money from his account, then disposes of his body. For many this paints a picture of someone who is canny and calculating. However for me, Morvern is more detached than that - seeming to be a perpetual outsider, she never strikes me as being comfortable with the world around her - at least, not until she has run away from it all. The body of her boyfriend lies around for days, and she goes out of her way to avoid thinking about it - actions that scream denial. Having gone down this route probably makes it easier to accept the decisions that she finally does come up with. Everything about Morvern screams out that she is looking for some answers, though throughout the narration her voice seems to be more removed and separate, a permanent calm that suggests the idea of detachment. The idea that Morvern is an orphan is an undercurrent of the book, her relationship with her step-parents stirring in there and no doubt being a contributing factor in the development of Morvern. It isn't until Morvern is totally away from it all - enough money that she doesn't have to worry for a little while, and the sun above her certainly factor into this, but the whole sense of stillness Morvern attains when she gets away from the resort and sets up a little island of comfort makes so much difference.

Having seen the film before reading the book it is interesting to see the differences, and there are always differences between the two medium. Warner and Ramsey have different approaches, with it being curious how they have played scenes one way or another, emphasised certain threads or ignored them all together. In the book Morvern's step-father and the community have a bigger presence, while in the film her step-father is entirely absent. Before heading off to Spain Morvern has a fight with the friend she is going with, in the book this is a constant edge to their behaviour, while in the film they have totally made up. On the one hand the tension between them contributes to Morvern's desire to flee further, while this seems less obvious in the film. Though in contrast it does almost seem more within character for Morvern not to take the fight too seriously and to make up quickly. Perhaps most striking is that the taking of the novel as her own plays more of a role in the film than the book - being carried around on a disc for some time before its even looked at and then almost forgotten about, compared to the flashing on the screen right from the start of the film.

In language terms Warner is a contemporary Scottish novelist, and as such plays around with the form of narrative to some degree. The language itself is in dialect, presumably derived from the area of the highlands that the character comes from. Some people might find it difficult to comprehend, though in some ways it is a question of rhythm that has to be fallen into. Strangely I suspect some non-Scots might find that an easier exercise, the variation in dialects means that there is a certain overlap between my Glasgow voice and Morvern's, which seems to throw me out more when I come across something that isn't in that overlap. The downside is that some parts feel awkward, part of me says it is just down to the accent/dialect thing, part of me wonders whether it is a stumbling by Warner that doesn't do his character any favours?

For all that I remain bemused by Morvern her life on the screen and page still has something compelling and intriguing to offer.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: South Of The Border, West Of The Sun
Author: Haruki Murakami
Publisher: Harvill Press

The more I read of Haruki Murakami's work the greater sense I have that his work falls into two categories. The first is the dramatic romance, concerned with unrequited love that goes through numerous twists through its course with little guarantee that it will all work out in the end - like Norwegian Wood and Sputnik Sweetheart. Then there is the more quirky work, filled with strange events, strange characters and bemusing dialogue - like Dance, Dance, Dance and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles. The second category is the one I am tending to enjoy more, though South Of The Border, West Of The Sun falls into the first category. Which still makes it enjoyable work, but I just don't find this kind of material quite as satisfying.

Hajime and Shimamoto meet in school, both only children in a post-war culture where the idea of only having one child seems aberrant. As such they become firm friends, spending all their time together. However when they are 12, Hajime's family moves away and while they are close enough that he can still visit the new distance and the onset of adult hood make things awkward. So they go their separate ways, but throughout Hajime's life he is haunted by the memory of Shimamoto. Throughout his 20's he knows no real happiness, always left looking for something. Then by chance he meets Yukiko and they fall in love, get married, have children, and with the support of her father he opens a successful jazz bar. At last he has found happiness, at least until Shimamoto comes back into his life, turning up at his bar one night. Which opens up the feelings they both had for each other all through their lives and complicating matters entirely.

The form of West Of The Sun is episodic, each chapter, at least initially, being quite compact - to the point where they could almost work as short stories, with the theme of thoughts of Shimamoto linking the sections together. As it goes on the novel is less compartmentalized, getting into the body of the story, the two characters reunited and the stages of how their relationship evolves. When Murakami works like this there seems to be a certain distance between the reader and the action, which makes this style less compelling than his other work. Still readable enough, but without the sense of who the characters are or any of the other things which really pull the reader into the narrative.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: Dark Light
Author: Ken MacLeod
Publisher: Orbit

Dark Light is the second in Ken MacLeod's Engines Of Light trilogy. He is working as a tighter trilogy than his previous works which had a more tenuous link over the course of their development. In Cosmonaut Keep we followed the threads of Matt Cairns and Gregor Cairns - one on earth making the first step into space the other his descendent on an alien planet. This set up the backdrop of the Second Sphere, a collection of earth like planets populated by human's and other Adamic races who have been transported there by the power of aliens so powerful they are referred to as gods. The group of Cosmonauts from the first book are the first humans to arrive in the Second Sphere under their own power, and as such are somewhat revolutionary in the scheme of things.

With Dark Light Gregor and Matt and their crew have got the Bright Star flying again for the first time since their arrival 200 years before. A fact which causes yet more controversy in the sphere, especially amongst the recalcitrant Saurs - who are the image of our classic "grey" alien and unwilling to share their more advanced technology. But when the goals of the Bright Star - a plan to talk to the gods and demand answers - are revealed, tensions reach a new high.

With this series MacLeod is dealing with a variety of ideas - from the classic ideas of alien visitations and a creation myth to his more scientific/social revolutions. Recurring themes in MacLeod's work are anarchism and communism and they appear again here, brought to a head in political upheaval and revolutionary action. Mixed in with interstellar travel, extended life spans and a potential war among gods.

Starting with the introduction of a new planet, populated by stone age and steam age communities MacLeod brings us up to speed with a surprising velocity so that Dark Light becomes a rush of narrative quite quickly. The only criticism is the way he deals with Gregor and Elizabeth from the first book, they are present here, but are entirely side lined in a way that doesn't quite fit in. Though the lead that is provided by Matt is retained and built upon, a character which builds upon the ideas set up with the run from The Star Fraction through The Stone Canal and The Cassini Division to The Sky Road.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: Painkillers
Author: Simon Ings
Publisher: Bloomsbury

Painkillers is the fifth book by British writer Simon Ings, and it is something of a departure for him. Hot Head and Hot Wire were related novels and very much hi tech cyber fiction, Headlong was somewhere along the same lines, though his style had changed by degrees and the scale was probably smaller and more contemporary, while the City Of The Iron Fish was more of a fantasy piece by comparison. While Headlong, his last novel may have had more of a contemporary feel Painkillers is even more so, set in the late 90s, revolving around the period of when the British handed back Hong Kong to the Chinese.

Adam went to Hong Kong to join the serious crime squad. There he quickly meets some dubious people as well as Eva, the woman he soon marries. Things seem to be going well, until between the surveillance on his boss and the birth of his autistic son he is knocked off track. Work becomes difficult and all his spare time is spent researching miracle cures for Justin. Then with the handover he is back in the UK, runs a small cafe, his son is in a special school, and he thinks that he has left behind the regrettable things he had to do. But with a prominent trial, the mysterious death of his former boss and the return of old "friends" it is clear the past has come back to haunt him.

Painkillers is not the longest of books, about 150 pages of text in this paperback edition. To some degree meandering as we follow the next step in the disintegration of a drunk's life. Switching back and forth the narrative moves from Adam's time in Hong Kong, from his arrival as an up and coming operative through to his corruption, then to London post-Hong Kong and the collapse of what was, in the wake of which Adam has become an alcoholic and relations with Eva are ever strained. While the return of the past has its negatives it also does offer a new lease of life for Adam. The results are part domestic, part thriller and being Simon Ings part science.

The science bit comes from a black box. A mysterious device Adam is introduced to in Hong Kong and turns up again in London in the hands of his mistress. A device corporations are looking for, people have been killed over, and a box which might change Adam's life altogether. Tangled in with this and the narrative as a whole are the ideas of autism, discussions on what autism is thought to be by various parties and some of the ideas that have been put forward to relieve the symptoms. The combination of these elements is what ties this to Ings previous novels at all.

Painkillers is relatively quick paced, given how much it gets into the pages. Being so different from his previous work disorients a little, leaving a little uncertainty as to what to make of it, Painkillers feels like an odd little book in some ways. On the other hand I did enjoy it, even though it took some effort to track a copy down in the end.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002

Title: Special Delivery
Author: Iselin C. Hermann
Publisher: Harvill Press

The attraction to Special Delivery is its vividness of language. Which is interesting given that it has been translated from Danish and is supposedly in French. I've picked up this slim edition published by Harvill Press, who seem to specialise in translated works, and reading the back had a certain curiosity. This time picking it up I read the first couple of pages, which are pretty short, and was caught up in the sense of how this could work.

Delphine is a Danish girl, who inspired by a painting by Jean-Luc, a French artist, decides to send him a short note on a post card to tell him how it has affected her. To her surprise she receives a reply to her note. With a correspondence growing from there over the next 18 months. The two write back and forth in French, becoming increasingly flirtatious as they do - conjuring scenes and scenarios where they meet and engage. Mixed through this are discussions on who the people are, key sequences in their lives, on art and how it describes what is going on between them, and language and it's interpretations, which are especially relevant given the pan-European aspect of this building narrative.

With out doubt this is a romance story, and okay I admit it, there is part of me that is just an old romantic. But there has to be more to a piece than slush for it to have a real attraction to my more cynical side. Special Delivery works, it is an exercise in that it builds a restriction and works with that - everything that happens must do so through the form of a letter - so we have short note, postcards, long gaps between responses that provide tension. The characters come through in the writing style - Delphine is young and passionate, linked to France by her French Grandmother, Jean-Luc is older and hesitant, he is married, though gains a flush of excitement from the emotions he has sparked in this woman, despite any reticence he may display.

The progression is such that these two must meet. Though there is the warning from Jean-Luc that neither of them are really who they are on the written page and the illusions could just as easily be shattered as fulfilled. With this one becomes curious how the ending will be brought about, how the life outside the written page will be conveyed to the reader. This is achieved by the end note, which is supplied by Jean-Luc who is supposed to be have published this correspondence in this form.

Cells are tingling in me - Delphine says at the start of one letter. For me this is a perfect description to this book - the words come alive and tingle like those cells on these pages.

RVWR: PTR
December 2002