Look to Windward

I reread this for a sci-fi bookclub meeting with the theme of 'space opera' and it certainly has that grand, sweeping space opera feel to it: inter-species wars, long-held grudges, passion, indifference, and the secret workings of power.

Banks' world-building always delights. We are swept from battlefields to the 'bracelet world' of Masaq, with detours through the intricate ecosystems of the dirigible behemothaurs, and the monastery of Cadracet, on a bewildering array of space-faring vessels. The creatures that populate these places are no less bewildering. We have humans and five-limbed Chelgrians, pyramidal Homomdans, a whole zoo of creatures that live in or around the behemothaurs, and of course, the Culture Minds. Part of the pleasure of his books is delighting in all he dreamt up.

Then there are the innovations in technology. Never mind the faster than light travel, the plot depends on the ability to 'back up' consciousness and reload it in case anything happens to the body that contains it. While a useful device for a plot that spans centuries, and (for anyone who has played Doom or it's descendants) an obvious improvement on 'real life', this special skill always leaves me slightly annoyed by the assumed clear distinction between body and mind. I find myself distracted by how my memories and experiences could possibly fit into a body very different from the one in which they were formed.

There's a well-constructed plot which starts with the premise of a war that was fought, but never should have been fought, billions of lives lost, regret and subsequent attempts to make amends, muddied with the desire (and cultural compulsion) for revenge. This galaxy-sized back story is made relatable through the characters of Quilan, a grieving soldier with nothing left to live for, the renowned composer Ziller, living in self-imposed exile, and the thoughtful Ambassador Kabe Ischolear, as well as an old soldier who takes on a secret mission, a researcher who hangs around the behemothaurs, and the avatar of one of the minds. Untangling this complex array of characters, and figuring out the plot (which is anything but linear), is part of the fun. It definitely benefits from a reread or two, which makes it a book worth keeping around.

I found the ending a little drawn out. The book could easily have stopped after Chapter 15, A Certain Loss of Control, which nicely concludes the plot, but the author couldn't resist tying up more of the ends with a final, three-scene chapter, and then an Epilogue. It seems Banks had some left-over scenes that he couldn't resist including, but they rather spoiled it for me. In particular, I could have done without the final scene where he descends into a loving description of brutality and gore.

Nevertheless, a masterful piece of fiction which intrigues, delights and entertains.