A review by ianbanks
Surface Detail by Iain M. Banks

5.0

(This review first appeared in the sadly-missed website The Specusphere in 2010.)

It seems to the casual observer that Iain M. Banks’s Culture novels have been around forever and have made an indelible mark on modern SF. But the first was published in 1987 and this is only the eighth in the series. There have been a few short stories as well, but really, it seems like such a small offering to have created such a stir… doesn’t it?

Well no, because each of the novels in the sequence has expanded on the universe of the Culture in such a way that it has become a very real kind of fictional place. And there is so much fun to be had in the hedonistic, carefree world of the Culture that readers are always eager for more. And the fun is very real, from the obvious pointers like the Ship names, down to the manipulations and dealings of the various Minds and the breathtaking technology that Banks seems to have so much fun in setting up and (quite often) destroying. That this setting often takes place in stories of almost depressing violence and brutality only highlights what the Culture stand for: the right for people to have a life in which they do not fear for themselves or their loved ones.

And in this latest novel the Culture is fighting for the right for all peoples to have the right for the afterlife that they choose for themselves. Should you choose to die, that is: for you may choose to be reborn with your memories intact into a new body, or just be repaired back to life should bits of you wear out or suffer an accident. Or, as some societies are doing, you can embrace the singularity and upload your personality into a virtual afterlife. Which is all well and good, but some unscrupulous sorts are sending uploads into a reality based on whatever their version of Heaven or Hell is. The Culture are not having this as they believe that the afterlife should be a matter of personal choice and do not care for the torturing of anyone, artificial or otherwise.

Into this story comes Lededje Y’Breq, a woman born into indentured slavery. She has had her entire DNA sculpted with fractal patterns that proclaim her status as property to the world. She is murdered in the first chapter of the novel but wakes up in a fresh body courtesy of an eccentric Culture ship. Naturally she wants revenge…

Also in this story are Prin and Chay, volunteers for Hell. Their plan is to infiltrate the virtual afterlife that punishes uploaded personalities for the sins of their life and escape to tell the universe of the madness and futility of it all. But their plans go awry…

Then there is Vateuil, an uploaded soldier who seems to spend an awful lot of time fighting and dying for an authority he is not sure has his best interests at heart…

And there are many other characters, each propelling the story onwards to its denouement, each vivid and telling a vital part.

The scenery is, as usual, one of the characters as well: vivid and awe-inspiring, coming across as more than a backdrop for a space opera.

It is also a thoughtful novel, asking why, in a universe that teems with life and complexity, we feel the need to punish people with Hell, or reward them, for that matter, with Heaven. It also asks, what - in a society that has the capacity to provide you with immortality if you wish it, or multiple digital versions of yourself - is the point of an afterlife?

Of course, Banks isn’t really talking about aliens and AIs here, and if this were one of his mainstream novels there would no doubt be loads of people complaining that he has taken time out from a cracking yarn to insert one of his typically left-wing diatribes about the state of the world today.

Fortunately this is the Culture, where society has a default setting for individual freedom, so these sorts of rants are directed at the tyrants and despots who deserve it.

Occasionally, though, you come way from the novel thinking that the Culture is becoming one of the huge monolithic forces Banks often rails against: it occasionally seems that there isn’t really anything that the Culture can’t handle and that they are turning into the sort of cultural warriors that they often fight against. However, given the suspicion that even the people who work for the Culture’s secret services display to their employers, this may be a deliberate ploy by Banks.

But throughout the novel, Banks plays against this idea, with the various Minds and Ships displaying a rare mercy to characters who don’t deserve it, playing against the Dirty Harry-ish ideals displayed by other writers. The Culture value life and don’t believe in excessive vengeance or violence, believing that it makes them as bad as their enemies. Unfortunately, this sometimes makes the villains seem almost cartoonish and two-dimensional.

It’s hard to compare this to other Culture novels because they have each dealt with different aspects of life and history in the galaxy-spanning society. I wouldn’t recommend this to a newcomer to the series because it does reference several other novels in a way that might make you think you’re missing something (especially the squee-inducing final line) but it has many of its own special merits, climaxing with a massive space battle and a duel to the almost death in an ornamental garden. As with the conclusion to Matter (the most recent in the series) this may annoy some fans because it seems a little out of kilter with the breakneck pace of the last quarter of the book, but this is because – I think – Banks is trying to make a point about the Culture and the way they treat their friends and enemies.

It’s something I’ll be looking out for when I reread it. Because I will be rereading it.

(2015 note: it stands up amazingly well, five years later, and my thoughts on the Culture as a monolithic, ethical superpower still hold. It's almost as though, for the early books, Banks was looking at his creation antagonistically, trying to work out what was wrong with such a creation or culture, and in these later books, he's come to terms with their viewpoint and approves, however, even their dirty tricks department has to be held to unbelievably high moral standards. Ah, the joys of fiction).