The Scottish saying "crow road" refers to death. If someone is going to the "Crow Road," it means they are not coming back, they are dead.

"The Crow Road" is a novel about a family saga set in Scotland in the early '90s. It starts as a coming-of-age tale, develops into a speculative essay on theology, and concludes as a mystery thriller about a series of sordid murders.

The novel opens with the memorable line: "It was the day my grandmother exploded." As I read, I was struck by the similarities between the main character's life and my own. Prentiss, the protagonist, is like all teenagers in history.

Between 14 and 17, I dreamed of wonderful things but was afraid of doubt. Uncertainty felt overwhelming. From 18 to 21, I thought I'd become "someone." But from 22 to 31, I learned it was hard to keep my dreams alive. And from 33 to 41, I had new responsibilities.

This sums up the core of the book. In some ways, it's also about hope. But hope can be a curse. Schopenhauer saw hope as a "madness of the heart." Banks introduces an essay about atheism and religious beliefs, but if hope is a curse, we're doomed.

We live in ignorance and superstition, believing there's something more. Banks says we're a daft species. We can't accept our mortality, so we believe in something beyond. But if we could accept it, we might behave differently.

I was raised in the scientific school. I believe in evidence and demonstration. But we also have faith and hope. Even Newton was an alchemist. So where is reality?

Banks may be right that we're like a locust plague, but we're also a mystery. I don't believe in aliens, but if they existed, they'd be baffled by us.

Banks is one of my favorite writers. His books use human dynamics to address philosophy, religion, politics, and more.

  It was the day my grandmother exploded.

When you begin a book with such a captivating sentence, you've undoubtedly snagged the reader's attention - and you'll hold her throughout, as long as you can maintain the momentum. Iain Banks accomplishes this seamlessly.

This is the story of the McHoan clan of Gallanch, a talented, eccentric, and seemingly cursed Scottish family, mainly told through the eyes of young Prentice McHoan. As the novel commences, we witness him grappling with the angst of a young man in the early nineties. Estranged from his father, jealous of his successful elder brother Lewis, hopelessly in love with his cousin by marriage Verity, and completely adrift about what to do with his life. Unbeknownst to all, the world is on the brink of the First Gulf War, and the delicate fabric of international relations is about to be torn asunder forever.

The "explosion" of the grandmother, of course, is merely a plot device to draw the reader in. It's explained by the end of the first chapter, and there's nothing fantastical about it, yet it sets the tone for this brilliantly fragmented kaleidoscope of a tale. The eccentric grandma who fell from the tree to her death is just one of the abnormal demises that seem to regularly afflict the McHoans. As Prentice remarks, it seems he only returns home for deaths.

Prentice's father Kenneth is a teller of children's tales. He's an atheist and isn't at all pleased that his son has adopted the strange religion, based on the Bible, invented by his elder brother Hamish. The extremely sensitive Prentice can't tolerate his father's criticism, so he stays away. Prentice's elder brother Lewis is a successful stand-up comedian, and his younger brother James is still in school. Besides the aforementioned uncle Hamish and his wife Antonia, Prentice's immediate family includes one more male member, his uncle Rory (Kenneth's younger brother), who has been missing for years when the story begins. His Aunt Ilsa is a globe-trotter, and Aunt Fiona has been dead since Prentice was eleven years old.

In addition to the McHoans, this is also the story of the Urvills, the landed gentry related to the McHoans by marriage. Fergus Urvill, the Lord of the Castle, was married to Prentice's Aunt Fiona. They have two beautiful daughters, Helen and Diane, and the household also includes Verity Walker, Fergus Urvill's niece, who is the object of Prentice's hopeless infatuation.

The third family that rounds out the cast of characters is the Watt family. Lachly Watt, a childhood friend of Fergus and Rory, his niece Ashley, and nephews Darren and Dean (Darren, like many in this novel, deceased at the beginning from an accident). There's a strong undercurrent of companionship between Ashley and Prentice that could potentially mutate into love - if he can let go of his mooning over Verity.

Up until the midpoint of the book, we're left wondering if there's a story at all - it's all just a series of (mostly eccentric) episodes of the various characters' doings (though the novelist holds our interest with his remarkable turn of phrase and his skill in spinning a yarn). Suddenly, in the middle, Prentice comes across a set of papers that are fragments of a novel the absent Rory was supposedly going to publish. Rory already has a reputation as a travel writer, based on a best-selling book on India he wrote as a young man - but this is something sure to be far more explosive. Unfortunately, all Prentice can find are tantalizing fragments.

The novel is provisionally titled Crow Road, an actual address where Rory lived with his girlfriend - and also a euphemism for death, as popularized by Grandma McHoan ("he went the Crow Road" meant the same as "he kicked the bucket"). So Prentice's journey along the path taken by his uncle is a symbolic descent into the netherworld. Rory's death has been accepted by all except Kenneth. As Prentice discovers why, we gradually come to realize that all is not as it seems on the surface. Like the wild countryside that surrounds the protagonists, there are secrets and mysteries hidden within the history of the clan too...

***

This is a confusing novel to read and a very difficult one to review. The structure is deliberately fragmented, and the narrative jumps back and forth in time and space. There is a pattern, which reveals itself very slowly, rewarding the reader who perseveres with the tale.

  These were the days of fond promise, when the world was very still and there was magic in it. He told them stories of the Secret Mountain and the Sound that could be Seen, of the Forest drowned by Sand and the trees that were time-stilled waters; he told them about the Slow Children and the Magic Duvet and the Well-Travelled Country, and they believed all of it. They learned of distant times and long-ago places, of who they were and who they weren't, and of what had and what had never been.

Thus is Kenneth, the storyteller, introduced - and thus too, the story - of things that had been and had never been. Among the Scottish glens, it seems difficult to distinguish the two. It is the spirit of this atheist rationalist who loves to tell tall tales that moves this story as well - combined with that of the wanderer Rory. The chapters alternate between the third-person points of view of Kenneth and Rory and the first-person point of view of Prentice, and the narrative progresses in fits and starts, with the timeline beginning at the end of the Second World War and ending as the Gulf War is ongoing.

Is there a point to it? Maybe not...

  God, what did any of it matter, in the end? You lived; you died. You were as indistinguishable from a distance as one of these blades of grass, and who was to say more important? Growing, surrounded by your kin, you out-living some, some out-living you. You didn't have to adjust the scale much, either, to reduce us to the distant irrelevance of this bedraggled field. The grass was lucky if it grew, was shone upon and rained upon, and was not burned, and was not pulled up by the roots, or poisoned, or buried when the ground was turned over, and some bits just happened to be on a line that humans wanted to walk on, and so got trampled, broken, pressed flat, with no malice; just effect.

Classic nihilism. Yet Prentice does find purpose in being a blade of grass. It is no coincidence that the novel that starts with a funeral ends in a christening.

...and then I just stood there, grinning like a fool, and took a deep, deep breath of that sharp, smoke-scented air and raised my arms to the open sky, and said, 'Ha!'

An enchanting read.

This is the third book of Iain Banks' that I've read, and it's yet another one that has left me consistently pleased.

He has this remarkable ability to take highly diverse and complex genres and mold them to his unique style of storytelling, keeping me fully engaged from start to finish.

The Wasp Factory was a psychological thriller, The Bridge was a mind-bending sci-fantasy, and now The Crow Road is, basically, a soap opera.

The story weaves between our rather pretentious main character, Prentice, and two other major time periods in his family's history, and it's all executed beautifully.

The cast and dialogue are a fascinating blend of the peculiar and the realistic. Even the more outlandish characters come across as genuine, actual people who could conceivably exist.

Most importantly, I never felt bored reading about any of them. In stories with large casts, especially ones as convoluted as these families, one or two characters often stand out as the "good bits" while the others seem like filler. But that never happened for me here.

Everyone felt equally important, and learning about them from the early stages of their lives to the later ones was captivating in a strange, relaxed sort of way.

If I had to compare it to anything else, it wouldn't be a book (since I haven't read many in this vein). Strangely enough, it would be Mad Men. Not in terms of setting, theme, or style, but in the fact that they're both exceptionally well-done character studies with a brisk pace and an interesting behind-the-scenes main plot.

I will say that the tone does make more than one sudden shift near the end of the book, and it was a bit distracting. Elements of a whodunnit mystery started to take over, only to be almost suddenly replaced by a (touching and enjoyable enough) love story that was almost too saccharine for its own good.

The culmination of this love story, where both engaged in sending Morse code with genital flexes, was... strange. It came across as less authentic than the rest of the story.

I still liked how it was resolved, if only for the peculiarities, but it was a little jarring, to say the least.

This is not, nor should it be, a book for everyone. It meanders, it plods a bit, and it focuses on giving depth to characters who don't necessarily play a role in the endgame narrative, simply to make them feel real. And I love it for that. It's impressive and enjoyable throughout.

This one starts off slowly, gradually gains momentum, and then ultimately fizzles out. The story revolves around an English family. Banks presents two generations, consisting of a senior group of three brothers and one sister. The two older brothers are accomplished authors. The youngest of these brothers is the leader of an alternative religious order. The main character and narrator, Prentice, is the son of the middle brother, Kenneth, who is a successful author of children's books.

Banks constructs three story lines. There is the mysterious disappearance of his father's oldest brother, Rory. Prentice has an infatuation with his childhood friend, Verity. And there is the tragic automotive death of his aunt Fiona. Introspective and not your typical whodunit, Banks employs the Rory mystery as a connecting thread as Prentice becomes increasingly involved in uncovering a possible motive and explanation for his disappearance. Along the way, we are treated to brilliant scenes of father-son memories as Prentice flashes back to his childhood. Prentice's interest in the disappearance of his Uncle Rory is kindled when he discovers excerpts from the lost manuscript of Rory's never-completed novel, "Crow Road". In these excerpts, Rory implicates Fiona's husband, Fergus, in a serious charge.

This is the high point of the novel. However, the story begins to fall apart as Banks ties up loose ends in a fantastical manner. The puzzle pieces fit all too conveniently. The story transitions from being complex and realistic to formulaic. Banks has a preconceived plan from the outset and refuses to deviate from his outline, despite his characters seemingly yearning for freedom from their predetermined path. It is a pity that the setup and characters are forced back into an overly restrictive mold.

The writing is solid. The scenes are vivid. The plot is initially engrossing. However, the organic nature that initially drives the plot gets strangled. An opportunity for a great psychological work is squandered as the author opts to neatly dot the i's and cross the t's rather than allowing for a more messy and challenging conclusion.

This is the 25th Anniversary Edition of The Crow Road.

It was the day my Grandmother exploded. I sat in the crematorium, listening to my Uncle Hamish quietly snoring in harmony to Bach's Mass in B minor. I couldn't help but reflect that it was always death that brought me back to Gallanach.

The Crow Road is the first book I have read by the author, Iain Banks. The story is predominantly told by the protagonist Prentice McHoan. I found myself unable to decide if this book was a family drama or a murder mystery. The characters are truly interesting, especially Kenneth. It is a fascinating mixture of sibling rivalry, politics, and religious beliefs. The pace of the story is fast, which keeps the reader engaged. There are a plethora of characters, but each one has a significant part to play.

I would like to express my gratitude to NetGalley, Little Brown Book Group. UK, and the author Iain Banks for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. This edition of The Crow Road is a must-read for fans of Banks and those who enjoy complex and engaging stories.

A great book (and also a very good TV series) by one of the writers who inspired me to pursue a career in fiction.

I usually shy away from anything related to romance, but this is so much more, just like all of Banks' books. I adored the characters, the entire story, and especially all the idiosyncrasies and traits of the individuals involved, which are very characteristic of Iain Banks, if you understand what I mean - and fans will surely know!

It has been a while since I read "Crow Road" - a friend gave me her well-worn copy and I couldn't put it down for weeks - but it's one of those books that remains with you for a very long time.

It's also a great conversation starter. I worked in India for a while and met some Scottish people there. One of the first things we discovered common ground on was "Have you read anything by Iain Banks?" "Yes, 'Crow Road', do you know it?" "Yeah, of course. It's the one where they drive across the white lines on the road...."

It's strange what you remember from a book!

This book was a precious gift bestowed upon me by an old friend from university. She claims it to be her all-time favorite book.

I can clearly understand why it would be a worthy contender. It was an incredibly rich and rewarding read, and I truly relished every moment of it. I can't believe that I have never delved into any of Iain Banks' works before. Oh well, as they say, it's better late than never.

The book is composed of numerous vignettes that offer a glimpse into the life of Prentice McHoan and his outrageously eccentric and diverse family, who reside in a small town on the west coast of Scotland. Some of the locations are fictional, while others are real, yet all are exquisitely described, making it effortless to envision them in one's mind. Prentice returns home from university to attend his grandmother's funeral, and from that moment on, a series of events unfolds as he discovers more about his Uncle Rory, who had vanished several years earlier.

The book gives the impression of a pile of jigsaw pieces haphazardly scattered on a table, and reading it is like piecing them together. All the parts seem somewhat random until very close to the end, when everything starts to fit perfectly and make complete sense. Each of the scenes is humorous and entertaining in its own unique way, but the way they all come together at the end is truly brilliant.

It's difficult to say much more without revealing too much, but suffice it to say that it is wonderfully complex and absorbing, and I'm certain that I won't be reading this just once.

I truly wish that I could claim that I read this book纯粹for its own inherent value. However, the reality is that I read it because Neil Gaiman prominently featured it in the second season of Good Omens. And that fact implies that it is... a Clue.

Here is an image related to it:

For those among you who are curious about what this might signify, I have a hunch that it has something to do with secret messages encoded in Morse code. These messages, I suspect, are exchanged during an intimate moment that occurs right towards the very end of the book. You can draw your own conclusions and interpretations from this. It's an interesting aspect that adds an air of mystery and intrigue to the whole reading experience.

There is something that I don't truly understand yet it has a strange allure that draws me towards his novels.

As I am reading them, I am never entirely certain if I like them. However, whenever I take the time to mull them over after finishing, I always experience a certain sense of satisfaction.

'The Crow Road' is no different in this regard. It is yet another one of Banks's novels that is rich with multiple layers.

It delves into the themes of family, of growing up, and of coming of age. And to add an extra element of intrigue, there is a murder mystery thrown in for good measure.

Of course, when it comes to this novel, the murder mystery is actually the least important part.

Overall, I would rate this novel as four solid stars.

It has managed to engage me on multiple levels and left me with a lasting impression.

I look forward to exploring more of Banks's works in the future.

The Crow Road is magnificent as it balances the elements of a coming-of-age novel and a family drama. For two-thirds of its length, it alternates between first-person chapters where the protagonist, Prentice, relates his encounters with his father, the void left by his uncle's disappearance years ago, his infatuation with a cousin, and other chapters where an omniscient narrator develops the family's past, especially the relationship between his father and uncle. The contrast between these two planes is accentuated by the development of each. In contrast to the neat and objective style of the latter fragments, Prentice's accounts have an emotional voice that the author of The Wasp Factory uses to unleash his renowned language skills. There are continuous word games, ingenious grammatical constructions, abundant jargon, and different language registers depending on the interlocutor, which would be a real headache in a possible translation.

Prentice fancies himself a championship miser at the age of almost twenty, but his way of being and how he explains himself is another of the qualities of The Crow Road. How two generations confront each other through him, the second of which is overprotected, and how both face the changes in life and, above all, death. A death that is omnipresent throughout the story like a major guiding thread.

Where the novel derails a little is when Prentice becomes the sole narrator. A small genre component, the mystery of his uncle's disappearance, comes to the forefront and dominates the delicate balance maintained by Banks. This shift in the composition's weight also affects Prentice's qualities when telling his story. He loses his inventiveness and, to a certain extent, his freshness, and The Crow Road becomes something much more conventional and, in my opinion, less interesting. But that's what happens when you mature.

Another surprising 4 star rating. It seems to be a recurring pattern for me whenever I delve into an Iain Banks story.

I find myself spending the initial three-quarters of the book on the verge of giving up on the entire affair. The story might seem a bit slow or convoluted during that phase.

However, then comes the moment when BAM! Suddenly, I'm completely hooked and unable to put the book down for the last 150-ish pages. It's as if Banks has some sort of magic trick up his sleeve that he unleashes just when I'm about to lose interest.

Also, an unrelated thought popped into my head. I really need to learn Morse code. It could be a useful skill to have, and I'm curious about the whole concept. Maybe it'll come in handy someday, or perhaps it's just another interesting thing to add to my list of knowledge.

Who knows? But for now, I'll continue to enjoy the unexpected twists and turns of Iain Banks' stories and keep the idea of learning Morse code at the back of my mind.

Guys, I don't think I got the gist of it.

Maybe I'm just not understanding something crucial.

It feels like there's a big piece of the puzzle that I'm missing.

Should I just give up and die?

That seems a bit extreme, but I'm really frustrated right now.

I've been trying so hard to figure it out, but it's just not clicking.

Maybe I need to take a step back and look at it from a different perspective.

Or maybe I need to ask someone for help.

But who would I ask?

I don't want to seem stupid or incompetent.

Ugh, this is so confusing.

I really hope I can figure it out soon.