Inversions

The sixth Culture novel is called Inversions, and it could hardly be more superficially different than its immediate predecessor Excession. The previous book took place in large measure as conversations among starships concerned with events in deep space and the imminence of galactic-scale war; but this one is entirely confined to an unnamed planet in a backwater binary star system, where the most advanced societies are ignorant of even the possibility of space travel. A recent cataclysm ("rocks fell from the sky") has resulted in political instabilities across this world.

The structure of the book is inventive. Like Banks' Use of Weapons, it is built around an alternation of chapters, and in this case they follow two parallel stories show more that hardly meet at all. One centers on a Contact operative in the role of a royal physician, and the other has its Culture agent working as the bodyguard to a warlord. Rather than bringing these characters to meet at the end, as I suspected that they might, their closest point of contact is probably supplied at the midpoint of the book in the fables of Lavishia, through which the bodyguard tells a veiled story about their past for the entertainment of a child.

The characters of the medical apprentice Oelph and the concubine Perrund have corresponding roles in the book that only become more vivid as the stories proceed. On reflection, they illuminate each other's situations and motives in provocative ways, and these intimations help to justify the structure of the narrative. The great degree to which they resonate with one another at the end helps the book achieve a feeling of completion despite its refusal to resolve its narratives in customary ways.

Banks definitely relies on the reader to bring knowledge from other Culture books in order to appreciate what is going on in this one. There are many mysterious events: some are readily explicable by such readers, others are eventually accounted for in the overt narration, and yet others I never quite puzzled out definitively. Even without those answers, I found the book very satisfying.

An aside: I have often thought about the Culture as a reworking of some of the most utopian elements of Star Trek, but this particular book instead invited comparisons to Doctor Who. In fact, the first numbered chapter opens with Oelph's references to his Master and the Doctor, with both capitalized, which practically forced the notion on me. (The book was written in the late 1990s during the long hiatus of Doctor Who between the 20th-century and 21st-century series.) Inversions is almost like the interleaving of couple of Doctor Who serials, each told from the local perspective, where the benevolently interfering extraterrestrial is never really understood as such, and sometimes almost avoids standing out as an enigma. The Doctor in this book is female, and I wonder if Culture readers were among the vanguard of those envisioning the gender transition of the television Doctor. show less

This is a reread for me, the first time since the book came out in 1998. I was trying to place the book in sequence - it came out after A Song Of Stone and before The Business. The previous science fiction novel was Excession and the next was Look To Windward. Of those, A Song Of Stone was his worst book, and The Business was fun but certainly not his strongest, though I heard him read the prologue in Fred Hanna's Bookshop when I worked there and it was one of the funniest readings I ever heard. Anyway, it's in a funny place. After the misfire of ASOS I wanted a return to the Culture to be a big big bold space opera. Instead I got this, which isn't. I did write a review, though I've no idea where it is, but I know I didn't dare allow show more myself to feel let down or disappointed, and, frankly, I knew it was too well-written and well-crafted for that, even as I mourned the lack of grandeur. But I think I was.

Now, of course, it's different. He's gone from us way too soon, and we're left with a body of work to enjoy and judge and re-evaluate. I think The Crow Road will remain the best book he ever wrote and the most beloved. But Inversions is a masterpiece, and it achieves that by sheer dint of the one thing Banks was not known for in his writing: restraint. He reined it all back in for this, two concurrent stories set on the same world featuring a Doctor to a King and a Bodyguard to a Regicide. It might be a quasi-historical fantasy novel save for the many moons and the falling space rocks and various other clues that we're in a different genre. The setting is not so much drab as understated, and in many ways unexceptional - societies emerging from feudalism, caught somewhere between Reformation and Enlightenment. There is a great deal of courtly intrigue and political maneuvering and suggestions of social reform. All of those in power are men. There are harems and concubines and serving girls. There is the Doctor, who keeps the King healthy, there is the Bodyguard, who kills the Protector's enemies. They are from a different Culture. They represent differing philosophical approaches to intervention by an advanced Culture into a less advanced culture. It is not as obvious as it seems who represents which approach.

So, no explosions, no battles, no mind-bending cosmic science, no vast entities, no mind-boggling warfare, just these two stories, which do converge but most assuredly not in the dazzling, head-wrecking narrative coup of Use Of Weapons. Instead, Banks creates his most literary of science fiction novels, exploring the theme set out in the title. As a science fiction novel, it is an inversion of all his other novels by sheer dint of the restraint in style and setting. The doctor and the bodyguard are inversions, as are the king and the regicide. But it is power that is inverted most, and what is at first the casual scenery of misogyny, the jokes, the crude or clever lecherous references, the dismissals, the insignificance of women in both settings, becomes the overwhelming heart of the story. If this is a world creaking towards progress, women are the afterthought, and a kind of rage builds, a hidden and barely detectable undercurrent of horror.

Because of course, the Doctor is a woman. She alone of all the women appears to be granted agency within this world, for all that she must bravely defy convention and face danger as arrogant men conspire to bring her down. But there is an inversion there, too. She is not one of the women of this world. She is armed with knowledge, and more than knowledge, she is protected. Of course, she is the character we identify with, root for, cheer on to defy these irredeemable sexists. The women of this world have no such privileges and while we sympathise with their plight, they are background dressing, the necessary illustrations of the backwardness of this world, to give the Doctor's position a more heroic stature. Which is how Banks delivers a salutary lesson in the shallowness of tourism in developing civilisations, whether you be a reader or an agent in special circumstances, and that no matter how much of a long view you try to take and how much you debate your philosophies of intervention and what is necessary to do the right thing, these little people are real and they demand justice, or revenge.

Banks started the Culture series from the point of view of one of its enemies. Inversions pulls the rug out from under Special Circumstances and holds it up to show the real blood from real people staining it. I now think it is one of his finest works, and I hope that if you first read it when it came out, or in sequence with the rest of his books, and felt let down by all the things that it does not contain, you'll go back and give it a chance and appreciate it for what it does contain. show less

So, apparently "Inversions" is a Culture novel, but it certainly doesn't seem like one. In fact, the paperback I've got doesn't even mention that it's a part of Iain M. Banks's influential series. And no wonder: "Inversions" strongly resembles one of those medieval-themed historical fiction epics that, as a decidedly twentieth century sort of nerd, I spent most of my youth carefully avoiding.

This isn't to say that "Inversions" is a terrible book, necessarily, but it certainly didn't do a lot for me. Banks's writing is as good as ever: his prose is precise and beautifully balanced, and his plot, while much too slow-moving for my taste, is intricately layered and well-constructed. The characterizations of Dr. Vosill, personal physician show more to the decidedly traditional UnLeyn, and the clumsily named DeWar, personal bodyguard to the somewhat progressive Lord Protector UrLeyn, are absorbing and believable. Most importantly, perhaps, their different ways of influencing their societies and the fairy tales that DeWar uses to illustrate the dilemma they face are effective. However, perhaps solely because "Inversions" is set on a planet that is more or less stuck in the medieval period, the entire book seems a bit stodgy, and, truth be told, it took me a while to get through. Reading this one sometimes felt like being stuck at a Renaissance Fair for four hundred closely printed pages.

I imagine that many readers who enjoy a wide range of science fiction and fantasy won't object to the issues I've raised here, and hardcore Banks fans shouldn't mind either. But I'm a literary reader on an excursion to the science fiction section, so this one simply did not resonate with me on a personal level. Not to worry, though "Look to Windward" is next. show less

Resulta irónico que el libro con el que más he disfrutado (de los leídos por ahora) de La Cultura, no contenga elementos de ciencia ficción, salvo en cierta parte del libro del que no se puede hablar para no descubrir el misterio a futuros lectores. Ha sido refrescante encontrarse con el mejor Banks tras la pequeña decepción que supuso 'Excesión', el anterior libro de La Cultura. 'Inversiones' es una novela más literaria, alejada de toda la parafernalia y pirotecnia propia de la space-opera, de esos escenarios y naves grandiosas. Por tanto, se trata de un libro de fantasía épica, pero no fantasía al uso (al fin y al cabo estamos hablando de Banks), sino de una historia en la que hay que estar muy atento a los detalles, ya que show more se hace un paralelismo con nuestra sociedad (y no para bien; me vienen a la cabeza las "trifulcas" entre la Inglaterra de Cromwell y la Francia de Luis XIV).

La historia son dos realmente, que en un momento parecen no estar relacionadas, hasta que al final sí parecen tener un punto de unión. Por un lado tenemos la parte de La Doctora, en la que la protagonista es la doctora del rey de Haspide, y su ayudante Oelph, el narrador y al mismo tiempo espía de las acciones de la doctora. Ésta es una curiosa mujer, extranjera, que parece tener remedios para todo, y lo que es peor, ideas propias, algo que no cae demasido bien dentro de la corte. Todo lo que sucede está contado desde el punto de vista de Oelph, lo que provoca cierta extrañeza en algunas situaciones. Es delicioso asistir a sus descripciones de lugares y personajes que van cruzándose en su camino.

Por otro lado, tenemos la segunda historia, la del Guardaespaldas, situada en otra ciudad del mismo mundo, y protagonizada por DeWar, el guardaespaldas del Protector, el rey UrLeyn de Tassasen. Esta historia está contada por un narrador omnisciente, aunque es un texto que con posterioridad nos dará a conocer Oelph. DeWar, utilizando los medios a su alcance se dedica a librar a su rey de los diversos intentos de asesinato que sufre, aunque le cuesta Dios y ayuda convencer cada vez a UrLeyn de la conveniencia de su protección. Un personaje importante en esta historia es Perrund, una de las concubinas del monarca, que quedó lisiada de un brazo al intentar salvar a éste. Algunos de los mejores momentos de esta parte son los vividos por DeWar y Perrund durante sus conversaciones mientras pasean o juegan a diversos juegos de mesa.

Lo mejor de la novela son los personajes, con los cuáles vives y sufres por igual. Tienen alma propia. Llegas a empatizar tanto con ellos, que al término de la última página, sabes que los recordarás por mucho tiempo. Banks fue uno de los mejores escritores dentro y fuera del género, tanto por sus descripciones como por las emociones que es capaz de transmitir con su cuidada prosa. show less

A novel with a medieval setting is not what we expect of Banks - but you should always expect the unexpected. Two stories set on the same world have interesting parallels but apparently no connection until the end.

Meanwhile, there is another mystery. Who is the King's favoured doctor, the woman Dr.Vosill? Is she just a foreigner, a skilled physician with some strange ideas about medicine (such as 'infection' and the importance of 'cleanliness'); or is there more to her than meets the eye? Her servant, who is also a spy in the pay of the commander of the palace guard, begins to understand that there may be.

At the end, Dr.Vosill has left - and more, has vanished in a mysterious way. And there are mysteries attached to her. She can defend show more herself in terrifying and frightening ways. And she seems to have no past, even when others try to trace her origins in a distant land.

The powers and knowledge Dr.Vosill posess suggest that she is from an alien society; possibly even Banks' 'Culture' (which would make her a part of Special Circumstances) - but we have to guess this.

Meanwhile, in another part of the world, a monarch's bodyguard tries to protect his charge, even when the monarch himself seems bent on self-destruction; and at the same time, tries to avoid falling in love with the monarch's favourite concubine (who harbours a terrible secret) and fails.

I found this novel compelling reading; and I was pleased that my expectation that the doctor character would turn up in the second plot strand to treat the monarch's epileptic son was not realised. The alien society was subtly drawn with some distinct hints of otherness - this was not an identikit "MedievalWorld (TM)". Definitely interesting.

(Review written August 2008)
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(Further observations dated July 2014)

In my memorial re-read of Banks' 'Culture' novels, I have come to one of the most interesting excursions into his imagined universe. With a novel like this, with a major plot twist that changes the perception of the book completely, a second reading is effectively a reading of a whole new book, because when you come to such a book a second time, you know what the plot twist is, and that puts the rest of the book in a new light. So it is with 'Inversions'.

Indeed, on the first page Banks drops a major hint. The first time I read the book, I just thought it was a joke. This time, it was plain what Banks meant. A similar throwaway comment occurs near the end of the book, and that one made me cry out "Oh, you naughty author, Mr. Banks!" in delight.

Equally, the bodyguard in the parallel story now, on second reading, shows his Culture origin, not so much by his skills and accoutrements, but by his knowledge and the tales he tells.

I enjoyed this book immensely, precisely because it is so different and subverts our expectations so much. It could easily be read as a stand-alone novel, but the reader familiar with the Culture would gain so much more from it. show less

Rather than focus on a grand scale space-opera, I think Banks wanted to dump us into a backwater gravity-well and let us have a sense of what it would be like to tour as a doctor, perhaps Culture trained, among the crude creatures of a Medieval period.

Mind you, I didn't quite pick up any definitive proof of actual Culture interference, mind you, because our PoV is actually from the apprentice to the good doctor who hailed from foreign parts, but I think the guess is a very good one, anyway. :)

So what of the story?

Actually, this one shares in the great reversals of our understanding, just like the other Culture novels. We go along with interesting tales only to have a reveal that shatters our understanding of what we read. That stuff is show more fantastic, by the way. :)

In this case, meet a doctor who befriends the King and practically ALL of the court and the nobles mistrust and plot against her. If feels like one hell of a romance, honestly. I got into all the characters and loved the banter, rooted for the good guys and hoped all the others would get their just deserts.

It's a simple tale on the surface, yet there's always past horrors to work through and there happens to be a certain Captain of the Guard from where the good doctor came from who is out to bring her back or to justice, traveling all the way across the country. What exactly is going on?

Well that is a great deal of this book's charm, from the opening scene with a torturer to the end where everything gets inverted.

Do you fancy a bit of standing on your head?

I'm very impressed by the tale even if there isn't that much SF or Fantasy to hang your hat on. It reads mostly like a Medieval tale. With some rather interesting outcomes, I might add. :)

It's well worth the read. :) show less

Based on the description, I wasn't expecting to enjoy this book as much as other works from Bank. It sounded a little contrived, and as a "Culture novel that isn't a Culture novel" it seemed, well, indecisive at best. But this has turned out to be one of my favorite Banks novels so far. It has certainly stayed with me in the kind of low-level way that many of the best books do, its ideas and images subtly churning around in the background.

The world of the Culture is hinted at in places in the novel, but in fact it drives all the action: the reason for the split narrative, is that the protagonists represent two opposing views on how to intervene in other civilizations and cultures, a debate that often plays out on a larger scale in show more Banks other work. The genius of the book however is that what is essentially a philosophical investigation never feels heavy-handed. This is a novel of ideas that never throws those ideas or the dilemmas in your face but trusts in the reader to notice them, think about them, or not. The two stories are tightly focused on their own action and plot arcs, but always implicitly interwoven (and then explicitly so) but the ideas that play out on sprawling epic canvases in Banks other work are presented on a smaller stage which, ironically, gives them a chance to breathe and assume greater impact. This accounts, I think, for the way book continues to nag at me even many months later.

The two protagonists are also two of the most interesting characters that Banks has crafted. He is often (unfairly, I think) slighted for being a better writer of action than he is of people, but the characters here are refreshingly ambiguous; admirable, annoying, conflicted, frustrating and frustrated.

It is a violent book, sometimes disturbingly so, and each tale takes place in lands that seem to have been abandoned by morality in any meaningful sense. This is typical of one of Banks preoccupations: if you remove one or more pillars that people often rely upon to guide their behavior, what remains? show less