This book began with such great promise. It appeared to be incredibly exciting. The dystopian future it presented was believable. The descriptions of the once magnificent houses and castles were amazing, and the people's attempts to vainly hold onto their familiar ways of life were vividly portrayed.

However, as the story progressed, something seemed to go wrong. Somewhere along the line, the plot lost its momentum and became convoluted. The characters' actions and decisions became increasingly illogical and unconvincing.

In the end, I was left with a feeling of disappointment and frustration. I thought it was a revolting waste of time. The book had so much potential, but it failed to deliver on its promise. It was a letdown that I would not recommend to others.

While I have perused a dozen science fiction novels penned by Iain M. Banks, this particular work marks the first literary, non-science fiction one that I have delved into.

My overall perception is that it is truly astonishing to think that this is the same author. Bank's literary prose is nothing short of remarkable and frequently reads more like poetry. In fact, my only genuine criticism of the book is that at times the prose appears to be overly indulgent, to the extent that the story becomes somewhat obscured by the abundance of words.

And when it comes to the story itself, it is extremely dark and brutal. I would not recommend reading this unless you are able to stomach the atrocities associated with modern civil wars. It delves deep into the harsh realities and moral ambiguities that often accompany such conflicts, making for a thought-provoking yet challenging read.

A truly execrable novel, it seems as if Banks had a perverse desire to see just how unpleasant he could make a story before driving the reader to abandon it in frustration.

This particular work is by Iain Banks, not Iain M., and thus it falls within the mainstream. Despite being set in a near-future scenario where Britain has descended into anarchy, it fails to engage on a meaningful level.

Abel and his wife/sister Morgan attempt to flee their ancestral home but are unfortunately captured by bandits. These bandits subject them to periodic humiliation. Abel, a pompous and self-important fop, is difficult to empathize with. However, no one deserves to be treated as he is, being hurled down a well and having the captors urinate and defecate upon him at their whim.

By the end of the novel, one can't help but wonder, "So what?" It leaves the reader with a sense of dissatisfaction and disappointment.

This is a major letdown, especially considering that I had loved "The Crow Road." Normally, I wouldn't waste my time writing a review about such a lackluster work, but I feel compelled to issue a warning to others about this dismal novel.

Winter was always my favourite season. Is this yet winter? I do not know. There is some technical definition, something based on calendars and the position of the sun, but I think one simply becomes aware that the tide of the seasons has irrevocably turned; that the animal in us smells winter.

The war is ending, but for the castle and its occupants, the troubles are just beginning. Armed gangs roam a lawless land, and taking to the roads seems safer than remaining in the ancient keep. However, the captain of an outlaw band has other ideas.

Iain M Banks has created a diverse body of work. His "The Wasp Factory" is an interesting piece. "A Song of Stone" and "Whit" also add to his literary repertoire. "Espedair Street" and "The Business" have their own unique charm. "The Steep Approach to Garbadale" and "Stonemouth" are among his notable works as well.

As Iain M Banks, he has written several books in the Culture series. "Consider Phlebas" is the first in the series, followed by "The Player of Games". "The State of the Art" and "Use of Weapons" are also part of this engaging series. "Surface Detail", "Matter", "Look to Windward", and "The Algebraist" further expand the Culture universe. "Against a Dark Background" is another of his works that showcases his creativity and imagination.

I don't think I'm gonna attempt to read much more by Iain Banks without the M. His writing is of high quality, perhaps a bit overly flowery in this particular work. However, it simply fails to capture my interest. There is even some overlap in certain aspects, but still... it's just distinct. For me, the dark moments in his Culture novels resonate in a different way compared to the darkness present in these books.

To me, it didn't feel like a proper story at all. It seemed more like just presenting unpleasantness for the sake of it. There was a lack of a cohesive narrative that could draw me in and make me care about the characters or the events. It was as if the author was more focused on creating a certain atmosphere or exploring certain themes rather than telling a compelling story. Maybe it's just my personal taste, but I found myself unable to engage with this book on a deeper level.

Less than one star due to the most hated editions of Oxy.

Oxy has had a series of editions that have left many consumers extremely dissatisfied. These editions seem to lack the quality and innovation that was once expected. The features may be outdated, the performance may be subpar, and the overall user experience is far from ideal. As a result, it has received a very low rating of less than one star. This is a significant setback for Oxy, as it needs to reevaluate its approach and make significant improvements to regain the trust and loyalty of its customers.

Perhaps Oxy should focus on listening to the feedback of its users and conducting in-depth market research to understand their needs and preferences. By doing so, it can develop new editions that are more in line with the expectations of the market and provide a better user experience. Additionally, Oxy should also invest in research and development to improve the quality and performance of its products. Only in this way can it hope to turn the situation around and achieve better results in the future.

This is truly phenomenal.

A Song of Stone takes us back to the bleak and rather perverse world of 'The Wasp Factory', yet it presents a much more distressing story. Among all the Iain Banks novels I have read (and I have read quite a number, with still many more left to explore), this one stands out as being extremely heavy, deep, philosophical, and yes, quite ugly in some aspects.

Set in a post-apocalyptic future, similar to what we might envision in Mad Max or Children of Men, it描绘了 a fallen society. The book revolves around a landowner who owned a Castle (estate), which is then taken over by rampaging bandits. The narrator, Abel by name, is the inheritor of this estate. As he witnesses his property being ravaged by the bandits, his musings throughout the book become increasingly darker.

The book contains many different themes. It delves into soul-searching topics, touching on his wife/sister, Morgan (as I believe), and the amount of love he had for her. I won't give away too much here as you really need to read it for yourself, but the ending left me speechless and deeply distressed, almost numb.

The prose is in first-person narrative and is incredibly dense and literate. It deals with Abel's reminiscing about his past, which is linked to the future. To be honest, there is more reminiscing than actual plot. The last two chapters were a bit of a struggle to get through, not because it was boring, but because the narrator's philosophizing made me re-read paragraphs multiple times. In fact, the whole book demands to be re-read.

The ending is upsetting and very tragic, which I guess was to be expected considering the whole build-up throughout the book leads to a sad, tragic, and ugly conclusion. I will give this 5 stars, but to truly understand where Iain Banks is coming from, it will really take another reading, and having a dictionary at hand wouldn't hurt either. I think I'm going to have a lie down for a moment.

If you're going to read this book, it's essential to understand that it isn't a universal appeal.

This work leans more towards the nature of a novella or a short story rather than a full-fledged novel. Its scope is extremely narrow, encompassing only a limited number of named characters and a setting that scarcely extends beyond a few miles. It presents a post-apocalyptic world, yet the cause of the apocalypse and the state of the remaining civilization are never even broached. However, this isn't what most people might find objectionable.

The tone of the story is extremely dark. By that, I mean it's REALLY dark. It's as dark as 'The Road' and 'The Wasp Factory'. Anyone who has read either of those (or seen the movie adaptation of 'The Road') knows precisely what to anticipate while delving into this. There is no glimmer of happiness, no silver lining, no light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, the darkness seems to intensify as the story progresses.

Despite the overwhelming darkness of the narrative, the writing is astonishingly poetic, perhaps some of the finest I've encountered from Mr. Banks. It is penned in the unique second perspective, and the main character has some exquisitely written inner monologues that, one could argue, serve as the silver lining in the otherwise gloomy cloud. The descriptions alternate between being soft and gentle at times and hard-hitting and gritty at others. Additionally, there are two memorable action scenes that feature some of the most intense descriptions I've ever come across.

So, why did I award this novel a mere 3/5? Because even I have my limits when it comes to darkness. As powerful as 'The Wasp Factory' and 'The Road' may be, I merely have a liking for them, just as I do for this book. Would I recommend that the author modify his story to incorporate some happiness or even a bittersweet ending? Absolutely not. This is the way he intended it to be, and as I stated at the outset of this review, it is not for everyone.

Set in a contemporary or recent-past, vaguely Eastern European country, torn asunder by civil war, this is an insular and even claustrophobic tale that artfully blends philosophy and perversion.

In its non-specificity, it almost gives the impression of a fantasy setting, yet there are no supernatural elements within the book.

Stylistically and thematically, it powerfully reminded me of Hermann Hesse, but it is much, much nastier. The writing, however, is also filled with hilariously clever and witty turns of phrase.

The book commences with an aristocratic couple fleeing their castle along with a horde of more plebeian refugees. Alas, escape is not in the cards. A female military lieutenant halts them and decides to commandeer their services and their home as barracks for her men.

The story is presented solely through the eyes of the lord of the manor, Abel. No other point of view is offered, and he is rather odd psychologically, which imparts a strangely 'flat' feel to the other characters. Some reviewers criticized this as a failure of characterization, but it is definitely an intentional aspect of the writing. It's not that the people lack character or voice, but rather that Abel does not fully perceive them.

As might be anticipated when a motley crew of guerilla-type fighters are garrisoned in a beautiful medieval estate, unpleasant things occur. But are the aristocrats innocent victims of a brutal conflict? Are their self-centered and perverse secrets somehow, indirectly responsible? Is the violence and crudity of the soldiers a symbol for the state of the common man?

Or are all these things just incidental, presented for shock value? After a slow build-up of unpleasantness, it concludes with a quite entertaining and twisted religious allegory...

There is much to ponder... but it is also quite enjoyable.

The Song of Stone is Iain Banks' 9th novel, which was published in 1997. However, he had already penned another 8 Science Fiction novels under the name Iain M Banks. This shows a consistent output of almost two books a year for at least over ten years.

As with most of his non-Science Fiction works, this book has a fairly political tone. I read it in the year of its paperback publication. It was evident to everyone that this novel was referring to the unimaginable brutality and horror of the Bosnian war of 1992 - 1995. Due to a split in the EU, with the Germans siding with their historic allies the Serbians and the rest of Europe wanting to help the Bosnian Muslims, this was the war that Europe witnessed every night on its televisions. But little was done to intervene except by its absence. The carnage and cruelty were like nothing Europe had ever seen before. Still, nothing was done.

In A Song of Stone, Iain Banks reflects on the culpability of Europe by setting a similar conflict in his homeland, the lowlands of Scotland. He focuses on a crumbling stately home and its useless, over-educated but under-skilled aristocratic yet likeable owners, and then throws them into the path of pure cruelty.

I won't disclose much about the story, except that it is horrific in its slow-paced, incremental daily increase in needless violence. The kind that only goes unchecked when all forms of the state have evaporated. In the end, this small castle and its occupants come to represent the entire state of Bosnia, and their cruel, needless suffering is similar.

It's difficult to recommend this book. Iain Banks is, as always, creative, and the inventive horror lingers with you long after you've closed the pages.

Still, once you start, it's unputdownable. You have been warned.

I'm giving this book a rating of two stars.

There are indeed some truly wonderful paragraphs within its pages. These paragraphs have the power to engage the reader and draw them in, making them forget about the world around them.

However, when looking at the book as a whole, it simply doesn't measure up. It fails to bring all of its individual parts together in a cohesive and satisfying way.

The story may have its亮点, but the overall structure and pacing are lacking. It feels disjointed and unfinished, as if the author didn't quite know how to tie everything together.

Despite the presence of those great paragraphs, the book as a whole falls short of expectations. It's a disappointment, really, because it had so much potential.

Maybe with a little more work and polish, it could have been a truly great book. But as it stands, it's just average.

You would indeed be fortunate to come across any other author who would dare to take such a bold step as to publish a novel as ambiguous and philosophical as this one. And then, to add to the mystery, there are the dark themes that gradually surface towards the conclusion. I shall refrain from saying too much to avoid spoiling the story. However, this is one of those novels where the plot takes a backseat. It is the inner dialogue of our narrator that propels us forward. The story delves into some rather dark and shadowy places, leaving a great deal unspoken. But Banks' prose is exquisitely crafted and thematically rich in a manner that never becomes overbearing. It left me with the sense that I had engaged with something of significance, despite the fact that, when compared to his other novels, it may seem relatively disposable. By no means is it essential reading, but it is undeniably a pleasure to peruse.