Inversions is the polar opposite. As Banks described, it was his "attempt to write a Culture novel that wasn't", and thus all the common motifs I've come to love in the series are entirely absent. Described as science fiction as fantasy, the book is set on a world closely resembling medieval Europe, with castles, palaces, kings, emperors, military generals, balls, and banquets. Indeed, the entire locale could be medieval Earth, save for the binary system the planet is in and the descriptions of the two moons in the sky. However, where the book is similar to other Culture novels is the fantastic twist at the end, which, if known beforehand, I imagine would somewhat ruin the book.
The book is presented in two alternating narratives. One is told in the first person by a woman named Vosill, the physician to the King of Haspidus. The narrator is a man named Oelph, seemingly the doctor's assistant but giving every indication that he is actually a spy for an unknown character referred to as Master. Haspidus is a typical medieval society with a King, lands ruled by lords and nobles, a caste system, women expected to be only wives and mothers, and the poor treated with disdain by the ruling classes and used for menial labour like farming. Some of these ingrained prejudices are shown through Oelph, as he insults the poor, is subservient to the nobility, and is highly judgmental when the doctor does something considered unladylike.
On the other hand, it's revealed that the King Vosill serves has a very progressive attitude for the time. He enacts reforms that take power from the country lords and give it to the people, allowing them to own their own land, create city councils, and have greater independence from the tyranny of the nobility. Additionally, the King has employed a female doctor, whom he trusts immensely and treats openly as an equal, asking her opinion on politics, cartography, and, of course, medicine, which supposed experts in these matters scoff at with overt scorn, believing women have no place having any opinion. Because Vosill is held in such high regard by the King, she has many enemies in the Court, and as Oelph narrates the story, a conspiracy unfolds in which dukes, high-ranking officials, and other characters plot to dispose of her.
Whenever one of these figures comes close to carrying out such actions, however, they are conspicuously murdered, and it becomes clear that Vosill is actually an agent of Special Circumstances, working on behalf of the Culture. It can be deduced that, given the King's progressive direction, the Culture has placed Vosill in Haspidus to keep the King alive as he brings about radical changes and drives the state towards a more equal society, something that would be greatly hindered if the existing nobility were allowed to exert their influence or, more likely, dispose of the King as he begins to change the status quo they hold so dear.
The fact that the characters who seek to harm Vosill are all killed leads to the assumption that, although never actually appearing in the novel, Vosill is accompanied on her mission by some sort of Culture device that can provide aid and protection as needed. Our attention is frequently drawn to a battered old dagger that the doctor carries everywhere. The hilt of the dagger is embedded with several small jewels, as well as many empty spaces where jewels once were. Since it's never explicitly stated what this dagger is, we must draw our own conclusions, but it seems fairly obvious that it's some sort of drone or knife missile, able to quickly dispatch any threats on command, and that the jewels could be bugging devices the doctor uses to spy on the various conspirators. Indeed, there are a couple of sections written as a transcript, hinting that some sort of recording device has been used to uncover the plots being made by Vosill's enemies.
The other story tells of DeWar, the chief bodyguard to Urleyn, the Protector of Tasassen, a ruler who gained control of the land after the downfall of the previous Empire. DeWar is a loyal servant to Urleyn in every sense, and it's frequently mentioned that he never lets his guard down, remaining alert and suspicious at all times, staying close to Urleyn to step in whenever a threat presents itself. DeWar is obsessive to the extent that he can't even play simple board games without his duty being reflected in his gaming style.
It would initially seem that the Protector is the more progressive of the book's two rulers, disposing of titles like King and Emperor in favour of more positive or neutral titles like Protector, and being responsible for the downfall of the previous Empire. However, it becomes apparent that Urleyn is not the entirely benevolent leader he appears to be, still retaining various militaristic and oppressive stances. Notably, in direct contrast to the King of Haspidus, when the leaders of a nearby land named Ladenscion desire greater autonomy from Protectorate control, Urleyn responds by denying their requests and threatening war. The barons of Ladenscion initially supported Urleyn's revolution, apparently wishing for freedom from the previous monarch, and now wish for complete independence.
A large number of DeWar's chapters present new problems and threats to the Protector. An assassin almost manages to kill Urleyn but is closely prevented from doing so by DeWar; the Protector's son Lattens is stricken with a mysterious and debilitating illness; the war in Ladenscion escalates, forcing Urleyn to leave the capital and lead the attacks against the enemy. And overshadowing all this is DeWar's suspicion that there are spies within the court, betraying the Protector's plans to Ladenscion and helping them win the war.
Another character who appears frequently throughout the book is the Protector's confidant, an ex-Concubine named Perrund. Her relationship with Urleyn and her deep friendship with DeWar signify that Perrund is an important figure in the narrative, not least because she once saved Urleyn from assassination and was crippled as a result. There's also another contrast here between Urleyn and the King, as while King Quience has a degree of respect for women, Urleyn is depicted as a womaniser, frequently visiting the palace brothel and having a son but no mention of a wife. These subtle hints at Urleyn's character serve to generate a growing dislike for him, a man who had such potential for greatness at the start of the book but frequently displays unfavourable opinions and actions.
It isn't long after the Protector leaves to take control of the war that he's forced to return home as his son's condition worsens. Urleyn completely fails in his leadership as he locks himself away and refuses to speak to any of his advisors and generals, who begin to question and mock his position. In the final chapters, the suspicions that DeWar has had throughout the book come to fruition, as he figures out that Lattens is being poisoned, and the great twist is revealed: Perrund is responsible and has also killed Urleyn. In a tense confrontation, the negative attributes of the Protector's character and leadership come together as Perrund explains how he and his squadron once raped her and her family, killing her parents but allowing Perrund to escape. Banks very cleverly presents a complete evolution of both Perrund's and Urleyn's characters, as the Protector, who appears at the beginning as an idealistic harbinger, then shows signs of being prejudiced and somewhat despotic, is now revealed to be a rapist and murderer wearing a guise of altruism.
There's a point in Vosill's story where the King learns about the Protectorate's war with Ladenscion (which dispelled some of my suspicions that the two narratives might actually have happened at different times). Although the King clearly doesn't support the Protectorate, he states that he must make every effort to seem to while taking the opportunity to move against Urleyn as it presents itself. I thought nothing of these comments when reading them, I'll admit, thinking it was just simple political banter. But as Perrund reveals her history, we learn that she is in fact the opportunity the King is referring to, having escaped to Haspidus after Urleyn killed her family and acting on the orders of the King to kill Urleyn, but not before bringing about his utter ruin. I'm beginning to thoroughly enjoy the enormous twists that Banks employs in most of his novels. It isn't quite on par with Use of Weapons, but it was certainly a good one.
As Banks stated, this is his Culture novel that wasn't really a Culture novel, and I admit that I was actually expecting at least some explicit clarification toward the end, with a drone or a ship appearing, or one of the characters explaining who they are and who they work for. None of this happens, and after a little thought, I've decided that I actually prefer this ambiguity and subtlety. The fact that Inversions is so completely different from the other Culture novels, and in fact, that each Culture novel is so unique, establishes Banks as a brilliant writer. Rather than just give it all away at the end, he uses a tale that DeWar tells concerning two children who lived in a country far away and who disagreed on whether an advanced society should handle primitive cultures, the girl believing in intervention and the boy believing they should be left to their own devices. It's clear the children are Vosill and DeWar, and that Vosill joined Special Circumstances to continue with her philosophy of instigating change within primitive cultures, whereas it can be guessed that DeWar is a kind of exile from the Culture working by his own means.
Inversions is a beautifully written novel, expertly constructed and never giving away more than it needs to keep the reader guessing, using subtle hints and references to maintain that this is in fact a Culture novel while exploring a world with a totally different aesthetic. Since the previous book I read was Excession, Inversions was a welcome relief from the intense concentration required by that book while still being incredibly thought-provoking, tackling certain issues of equality and prejudice with wit and humour.
One of the most memorable scenes involves a ball where Vosill and Oelph are invited to mingle with the upper echelons of society. One noble lady suggests that when the King grows bored of Vosill, she may hire her as a wet-nurse (or something similar), and Oelph reacts by saying that this would be demeaning to the doctor's talents. The lady is gravely offended that her opinion has been questioned, and when she discovers that Oelph was an orphan, she is further mortified. The entire scene explores the notion that the privileged classes believe themselves deserving of respect, better than the poor, no matter how useless they may be by comparison. The lady, I gathered, is the wife of some lord, has no education, no career, and nothing better to do than attend society balls, but still believes herself better than the doctor, despite the doctor being a highly educated and intelligent medical professional. Amusing as this scene is, it's still a distressingly accurate portrayal of society even in the 21st century.
Overall, Banks succeeds in creating a non-Culture Culture novel that is every bit as exciting, intriguing, and memorable as the others, and may well stand out even further for being so unique.