Iain Banks

Phew. I started to read this book three times, re-reading the first 30 or so pages. I found it difficult, and this was for two reasons. The first is the way it references Scottish locations and place names that you have never heard of, do not know if they actually exist, and which mean nothing to you. The second is the literary intensity that Banks has; you have to concentrate.

I persevered, because I knew Banks was a quality writer. It reminded me of a feeling I had when I was about 12 years old: I had to tell my classmates about my current interest, HG Wells. I had a thick collection of his stories from the school library, which I retained for several months. I said Wells was difficult, but worth it. My teacher endorsed me in this, hoping that it was encouraging the others to read more.

The density, and intensity, goes with Banks' imaginative power. It reminds me of Dickens, with strong characterisation and a rich tapestry of relationships that you have to follow. You like the narrator, young Prentice, who wears Doctor Marten boots and has a wry, self deprecating innocence. The novel documents his own self-discovery, much like David Copperfield. And like the Dickensian figure, Prentice finally realises he loves someone he has known for years, whose "kind and gentle" friendship has been a reliable source of comfort and support.

One of the most notable and powerful aspects of Banks' technique is non-linear narrative. He jumps around different locations and time frames, partly expressing the inner thoughts of Prentice, and partly just to tell the story. It works beautifully, and gives you a feeling for a total picture which includes the past. Ashley - his faithful friend and eventual lover - is inseparably linked to the image you have of her as a child, when she jumps from a height onto an uncle, almost toppling him to the ground. You have an omniscient perspective on the characters: you also learn about the childhoods of Prentice's own parents and uncles, and how their adult lives and eventual destinies are rooted in earlier experiences.

Apart from the growing up, learning about life, thinking about death and religion (the 'crow road' is a family term for death; the book opens with his grandmother's death and crow imagery), the other main theme is gothic-mystery in character. Uncle Rory has spent most of his life travelling the world, India especially, and has not been seen for many years. The family do not know if he is alive or not. When Prentice's father dies, sorting through his papers reveals some information that leads Prentice to believe that Rory has been murdered by an uncle Fergus, because Rory knew Fergus had murdered his wife after catching her in bed with another man. Banks drops hints about this from the beginning of the book; towards the end, you start to feel you are reading a crime mystery story - but you are not; it's just part of a more panoramic narrative. However, it becomes page-turning compulsive in the best way, because you want to know the answers.

Dickens depicts evil in a deliberate and carefully composed manner; his is a universe with a moral seam which you have to discover. Banks is modern, and has no such naiveté; people kill each other because life is complex, difficult, and people do things unpredictably, in relation to emotionally stricken circumstances.

Dickens is also - controversially - prudish and weak where sex is concerned. We can't blame him too much for that, because of the era in which he wrote.

Banks is sexy, funny, and wry. Prentice and Ashley eventually show their feelings for each other in a memorable and comic, post-coital moment. She uses her vaginal muscles to send a Morse code message to his half engorged penis: I.L.Y. He uses the "small pulse of socketed touch" to reply I.L.Y.T.