Just one more thing. I nod at the bodies littering the ground like fallen leaves. "What happened here? What happened to all these people?"

He shrugs. "They didn't listen to their dreams," he says, then turns back to his task.

—pp.362-363

Like skywriting in Braille... the late Iain Banks' early novel The Bridge is hard to get a grip on. The comparisons that spring to my mind are mostly cinematic... think David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, or perhaps Adrian Lyne's Jacob's Ladder.

Feverish and multilayered, The Bridge is a challenging work, not easy to appreciate, or to synopsize. A man lies in a coma after a car crash in Scotland; an amnesiac tries to fit into the linear society he finds living on an apparently-endless bridge; a barbarian warrior battles sorcery while ridden by a magical familiar. This is Banks without the M., the initialless persona he used for his mimetic fiction, but the veil between fantasy and realism here is very thin. Most of The Bridge appears to be fabulation, in fact—the great Bridge itself is a setting worthy of China Miéville, and there are swathes of a swashbuckling sword-and-sorcery tale told in the barbarian's near-impenetrable dialect. It seems likely from the beginning that all of these narrators are the same person, but if so which one is the real man, and which ones the butterflies merely dreaming that they are men?

And did it really take me more than 300 pages to remember that "bridge" has more than one meaning?

"No annihilation without representation,"

—Stewart, p.330

The Bridge seemed steeped in the UK's politics of the 1980s, and in that way more akin to fellow Scots author Alasdair Gray's work than other Banks novels. Elsewhere in his conversation with Stewart, for example, our narrator speculates on whether Scotland could ever have become an empire the way Rome did. His conclusion is that by the time the Scots became civilized themselves, they'd missed their chance—they were already too late to become world civilizers.

"She laughed, shook her head. 'Well, love is blind,' she said. 'So they tell us,' he sighed. 'Can't see it myself.'"

—p.278

Despite its bizarre trappings, exotic digressions and flights of outright fancy, though, The Bridge seems to me at its heart to convey a simple message, one that's utterly mundane: that although love may be blind, it's also strong—it'll find a way to express itself even though the rest of the world may have gone mad.

Ach, mebbe I've just gone a bit daft arter a hunnerd-and-fourty years wi'this wee bugger whisperin' on me showlder...

Considering my affection for Banks, it is truly remarkable how this book was about as enjoyable as a two-by-four across the forehead.

I was really looking forward to it, given my admiration for the author. However, to my great disappointment, I found it extremely tedious. The story seemed to drag on and on, without any real excitement or engaging moments.

Moreover, it was also quite depressing. The themes and events depicted in the book left me with a sense of gloom and sadness. It was not at all the kind of reading experience I had hoped for.

Overall, this book was a major letdown for me. I had expected so much more from Banks, but unfortunately, it failed to deliver. I hope that his future works will be more in line with my expectations and bring back the joy of reading that I have come to associate with his name.

Book, which in some places will remind you of Weis's House of a Thousand Doors, in some places perhaps Mitchell's Cloud Atlas. As it is written in the annotation, its plot is very difficult to tell. There are several storylines right away and they are very different from each other, whether it is the environment, the characters or even the language. Here I must tip my hat to Jan Kantůrkovi, he really played well with it :-) You will sweat a little when you want to find out what is reality, what is hallucination and what is a dream, what is the past and what is the present, but it's worth it.

For me, another excellent thing by Iain Banks and five stars.

An astonishing tour de force from Iain Banks.

Here, elements of hard fiction, science fiction, and even fantasy all intertwine in an utterly baffling, yet wholly enthralling, way.

It is truly a difficult book to precis or even describe without sounding completely insane.

As I was reading, my gradual understanding of what the hell is going on was enhanced when I remembered that the county of Fife is affectionately nicknamed The Kingdom.

This realization added an extra layer of depth and mystery to the story.

The way Banks weaves these different genres together is masterful, keeping the reader on the edge of their seat from beginning to end.

Each page is filled with unexpected twists and turns, making it impossible to put the book down.

Whether you're a fan of hard fiction, science fiction, or fantasy, this book has something for everyone.

It's a must-read for anyone looking for a unique and captivating literary experience.

Iain Banks was truly a genius, and The Bridge stands as one of his most remarkable works.

Few would dispute the first claim, yet some might take issue with the latter.

Why? Because this novel employs a rather cheesy central plot device – that the events unfolding are the dreams of a man in a coma.

If this turns you off, I understand. Usually, any novel using the 'It was all a dream' premise sounds as appealing to me as Days of our Lives in book form. But trust me: this novel is well worth your time. If you can look beyond this cliched premise, you will find yourself completely immersed in one of the finest books I've read in the past decade.

If you've read any of Banks' works, you'll know that he was equally adept at literary fiction and science fiction, penning numerous books in both genres throughout his career. The Bridge belongs to the litfic category of his output, yet it contains enough strange and speculative elements to attract those (like me) whose tastes lean towards the genre.

The story is divided into three parts.

The first character, Alex, awakens on a bridge. However, this is no ordinary bridge. It is a world unto itself, a vast, multi-leveled structure that spans a seemingly endless sea, stretching off into infinity in either direction, with an entire civilization existing within its steel stanchions and concrete buttresses.

Alex lives in this strange world, uncertain how he arrived there, exploring his new home and meeting with a psychiatrist to discuss his disturbing dreams. In particular, he endures a series of sometimes hilarious, sometimes horrifying nightmares where he traverses a strange and magical world as The Barbarian – a sword-swinging, Scottish-brogue-wielding warrior who is the second major character in the narrative.

While Alex delves into his own mind and his surroundings, we also follow the life of a young man, James Orr, who is making his way in our world. (There are some parallels with Banks' character Adrian Cubbish in Transition, although Adrian is a bit more of a scoundrel than James.)

James achieves success, along with all its trappings, but discovers that his wealthy life is empty. Throughout his rise to success and subsequent ennui, the common thread in his life is his love for a woman named Andrea Crammond, whom he reluctantly has to share with her other lover, a distant Frenchman.

Across these three narratives, we begin to understand what the bridge could be, explore the reasons Alex is there, and uncover the significance of both The Barbarian and the life that John Orr has lived.

What makes The Bridge so outstanding is the inventiveness of Banks' narratives. Each of his books is a unique explosion of imagination, and The Bridge is funny, poignant, and awe-inspiring, sometimes all at once on a single page.

For those of us who love The Culture novels, The Bridge also offers a hint of Banks' famed space opera series years before Consider Phlebas was written, with hints of an interstellar civilization and advanced technologies creeping into one of the narrative threads. If you're as obsessed with The Culture as I am, this glimpse of the seed that would grow into ten of the best novels in SF is truly delicious.

It's completely intoxicating stuff, and I was shamelessly addicted, poring over the pages late at night, my eyes blurred with fatigue, ignoring my partner, my cat, and any food that couldn't be eaten with one hand.

For some readers, the founding premise of the novel may seem trite. For me, however, the brilliance of the story and Banks' frequent volcanic eruptions of narrative inventiveness far overshadow the slightly clichéd premise beneath it all.

I recently read a really strange book. At first, I was quite confused and didn't know what to make of it. The story seemed to take odd turns and the characters were rather unusual. However, as I continued reading, something unexpected happened.

I started to get drawn into the unique world that the author had created. The strange elements that had initially puzzled me began to make sense in their own strange way.

By the end of the book, I found myself feeling really happy. It was as if I had been on a wild and wonderful journey and had come out the other side with a new perspective.

Even though the book was strange, it had managed to touch my heart and leave a lasting impression. I'm glad I took the time to read it and discover its hidden charm.

It just goes to show that sometimes, the most unexpected things can bring the greatest joy.

Please provide the article that needs to be rewritten and expanded so that I can help you.

It has been several years since I last read this one, and to my great surprise, it is even better than I recalled.

Banks can arguably be considered as having the most fertile and fearless imagination among all English writers in the last quarter of the twentieth century.

'The Bridge', just like many of his other books, is a literary high-wire act. The entire thing is so precarious that you wait with bated breath for the moment when he can no longer sustain it and the multiple narratives topple into each other. However, that moment never arrives.

And it's not merely the imaginative brilliance, the structural daring, and the sheer cheeky confidence that make it such a fantastic reading experience. It's also Banks' exuberant love of language and his application of words to the page in such a way that they flare and explode like fireworks in the sky. His use of language is truly remarkable, adding an extra layer of beauty and excitement to the already captivating story.

This book is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature and wants to be transported to a world of limitless imagination.

I think Ian Banks truly puts me to the test, and I always seem to come up short. Once again, out of the three (?) stories he presents simultaneously, only one makes sense to me. Even though from the very beginning, my assumption was correct - as well as being obvious and predictable - I still find myself filled with question marks and, as usual, doubting my own intelligence.

Ian Banks' writing style is so complex and convoluted that it often leaves me scratching my head. His ability to weave multiple storylines together in a seemingly seamless manner is both impressive and frustrating. While I appreciate the depth and creativity of his work, I can't help but feel a bit inadequate when I struggle to fully understand it.

Perhaps I need to read his books more carefully or do some additional research to gain a better understanding of his themes and ideas. Or maybe I'm just not smart enough to keep up with his brilliant mind. Either way, I'll continue to read Ian Banks' works, hoping that one day, I'll finally be able to解开 the mysteries of his writing.

This is the very one that the literary circles are prone to applauding. Melvyn Bragg dedicated half of a South Bank Show special to talking about it, obviously at the expense of Iain M Banks! Yet, this particular book perhaps combines the two Iains in the most excellent way. It is the contemporary chronicler of Scotland, delving into the foibles and machinations of modern protagonists, ranging from Complicity to the Crowd Road. It also incorporates the wild imagination, sex, gore, and shock of the Culture novels.

Here, we have a man's life, lived and loved in modern Scotland. He builds a career, buys cars, witnesses history pass by, and experiences the changing times, with abundant commentary. But then, there is the juxtaposition - the Bridge, the fantasy world of the comma patient. It serves as a commentary on a life, a journey, a battle between the Id and Ego, filled with dead ends, red herrings, strangeness, false hopes, allusions, and illusions.

It is an absolute delight to read Iain Banks' prose, whether it is set in the real world or in the endlessly inventive and perplexing world of the bridge. His writing has the power to transport readers and engage them in a captivating exploration of different themes and settings.

I have always been filled with wonder as to how books that keep the reader in a state of confusion until at least halfway through can be so captivating, and yet I always find myself drawn to them. Iain Banks is an author who thrives on this style of writing - as seen in his controversial debut, The Wasp Factory - and The Bridge is a continuation of this very idea. What makes this book truly outstanding in my opinion, however, is the way it is carried out. Each chapter left me with more questions than could ever be answered.

Although I had other obligations during the day aside from reading, I still found myself constantly thinking about the outcome of the novel. Perhaps, since I never read the blurb or the reviews online beforehand, I was able to experience the book in a more entertaining and puzzling way than others might have. I highly recommend following my lead and avoiding the blurb and reviews.

The Bridge is a prime example of a book that has completely transformed my reading preferences. I now find books that don't demand intense concentration to follow all the links and clues left early in the story rather dull. The subtle touches of wit and humour blend perfectly with the sometimes depressing elements of the story, and this is masterfully interwoven among the outrageous scenes of depravity. It is one of my all-time favourites, and I eagerly look forward to delving into other Iain Banks novels that I (embarrassingly) have not read yet!

Originally published on my blog here in July 2003.

Among Banks' early experiments with narrative forms, The Bridge stands out as the most successful novel. Similar to Walking on Glass, it employs interlocked yet seemingly distinct narratives and combines elements from science fiction and literary fiction. Its influences range from writers like Kafka and Dick. One of the threads is a Scottish dialect parody of pulp sword and sorcery fantasy, such as Conan the Barbarian.

Unlike in Walking on Glass, Banks uses common images and symbols to relate the threads even before the events become clear. Geology (the book's sections are named after geological eras), the body of an unconscious man in the hospital, and, most importantly, bridges - including a more metaphorical link between the lands of the living and the dead in one of the narratives - all serve to connect the different storylines.

The narrative thread that has the strongest impact on the reader is about an amnesiac who is rescued from the water surrounding an immense bridge inhabited by thousands of people. The senseless bureaucracy and outlandish customs he encounters in this story remind one of Kafka. A small literary connection is that this character shares his name with the Lieutenant in Catch-22 (another book about impossible bureaucracy) who rows to Norway.

In the end, the success or failure of The Bridge, or any experimental fiction of this type, as a novel depends on two things. The first is the reader satisfaction generated by each narrative, which is consistently high here, even though the stories may not seem to have a particular purpose or direction. The second is the way in which the connections are used to bring the narrative together at the end, which is also well done, although I wouldn't give it full marks (it seems rather unimaginative for a writer of Banks' caliber). The third aspect, which I don't think is as successful, is the justification for splitting the narrative in the first place. Perhaps more could have been added at the end to make this clearer as the stories are combined. (It is easy enough to figure out what is going on, but it would be more satisfying if the reader could understand more about what each thread means in the context of the whole.)

In many experimental novels, the only interesting aspect is the ingenuity of the idea being tested, whether it's the form of the narrative, an unusual point of view, the novel's structure, or something else. Compared to more traditional literature, which has centuries of reader familiarity with its conventions, they can be difficult to read and offer little reward for the effort required. The Bridge is not like that, even if it isn't entirely successful; it is a fascinating and enjoyable novel.