Review: Surface Detail, by Iain M. Banks

Surface Detail is the ninth novel in Banks's Culture science fiction (literary space opera?) series. As with most of the Culture novels, it can be read in any order, although this isn't the best starting point. There is an Easter egg reference to Use of Weapons that would be easier to notice if you have read that book recently, but which is not that important to the story.

Lededje Y'breq is an Indented Intagliate from the Sichultian Enablement. Her body is patterned from her skin down to her bones, covered with elaborate markings similar to tattoos that extend to her internal organs. As an intagliate, she is someone's property. In her case, she is the property of Joller Veppers, the richest man in the Enablement and her father's former business partner. Intagliates are a tradition of great cultural pride in the Enablement. They are a living representation of the seriousness with which debts and honor are taken, up to and including one's not-yet-born children becoming the property of one's debtor. Such children are decorated as living works of art of the highest skill and technical sophistication; after all, the Enablement are not barbarians.

As the story opens, Lededje is attempting, not for the first time, to escape. This attempt is successful in an unexpected way.

Prin and Chay are Pavulean researchers and academics who, as this story opens, are in Hell. They are not dead; they have infiltrated the Hell that Pavuleans are shown to scare them into proper behavior in order to prove that it is not an illusion and their society does indeed torture people in an afterlife, in more awful ways than people dare imagine. They have reached the portal through which temporary visitors exit, hoping to escape with firm evidence of the existence and horrors of the Pavulean afterlife. They will not be entirely successful.

Yime Nsokyi is a Culture agent for Quietus, the part of Contact that concerns itself with the dead. Many advanced societies throughout the galaxy have invented and reinvented the ability to digitize a mind and then run it in a virtual environment. Once a society can capture the minds of every person in that society from that point forward, it faces the question of whether to do so and, if it does, what to do with those minds. More specifically, it faces the moral question of whether to punish the minds of people who were horrible in life. It faces the question of whether to create Hell.

Vatueil is a soldier in a contestation, a limited and carefully monitored virtual war. The purpose of that war game is to, once and for all, resolve the question of whether civilizations should be allowed to create Hells. Some civilizations consider them integral to their religion or self-conception. Others consider them morally abhorrent, and that conflict was in danger of spilling over into war in the Real. Hence the War in Heaven: Both sides committed to fight in a virtual space under specific and structured rules, and the winner decides the fate of the galaxy's Hells. Vatueil is fighting for the anti-Hell side. The anti-Hell side is losing.

There are very few authors who were better at big-idea science fiction than Iain M. Banks. I've been reading a few books about AI ships and remembered that I had two unread Culture novels that I was saving. It felt like a good time to lose myself in something sprawling.

Surface Detail does sprawl. Even by Banks's standards, there was an impressive amount of infodumping in this book. Banks always has huge and lovingly described set pieces, and this book is no exception, but there are also paragraphs and pages of background and cultural musings and galactic politics. We are introduced to not one but three new Contact divisions; as well as the already-mentioned Quietus, there is Numina, which concerns itself with the races that have sublimed (transcended), and Restoria, which deals with hegemonizing swarms (grey goo nanotech, paperclip maximizers, and their equivalents).

Infodumping is both a feature and a bane of big-idea science fiction, and it helps to be in the right mood. It also helps if the info being dumped is interesting, and this is where Banks shines. This is a huge, sprawling book, but it deals with some huge, sprawling questions and it has interesting and non-reductive thoughts about them. The problems posed by the plot come with history, failed solutions, multi-sided political disputes, strategies and tactics of varying morality and efficacy, and an effort to wrestle with the irreducible complexity of trying to resolve political and ethical disagreements in a universe full of profound disagreements and moral systems that one cannot simply steamroll.

It also helps that the characters are interesting, even when they're not likable. Surface Detail has one fully hissable villain (Veppers) as a viewpoint character, but even Veppers is interesting in a "let me check the publication date to see if Banks was aware of Peter Thiel" sort of way. The Culture ships, of which there are several in this story, tend towards a gently sarcastic kindness that I find utterly charming. Lededje provides the compelling motive force of someone who has no involvement in the broader philosophical questions and instead intends to resolve one specific problem through lethal violence. Vatueil and Yime were a bit bland in personality, more exposition generators than characters I warmed to, but their roles and therefore the surrounding exposition were fascinating enough that I still enjoyed their sections.

I'm sure this is not an original observation, but I was struck reading this book in the first half of 2026 that the Culture functions as an implementation of what the United States likes to think it is but has never been. It has a strong sense of shared ethics and moral principles, it tries to export them to the rest of the galaxy through example, persuasion, and careful meddling, but it tries to follow some combination of pragmatic and moral rules while doing so, partly to avoid a backlash and partly to avoid becoming its own sort of hegemonizing swarm. That is a powerfully attractive vision of how to be an advanced civilization, and the fact that every hegemon that has claimed that mantle has behaved appallingly just makes it more intriguing as a fictional concept. In this book, like in many Culture books, the Culture is painfully aware of the failure modes of meddling, and the story slowly reveals the effort the Culture put into staying just on a defensible side of their own moral lines. This is, in a sense, a Prime Directive story, but with a level of hard-nosed pragmatism and political sophistication that the endless Star Trek Prime Directive episodes never reach.

Surface Detail does tend to sprawl, and I'm not sure Banks pulled together all the pieces of the plot. For example, if there was a point to the subplot involving the Unfallen Bulbitian, it was lost on me. (There is always a possibility with Banks that I wasn't paying close enough attention.) But the descriptions are so elaborate and the sense of politics and history are so deep that I was never bored, even when following a plot thread that meandered off into apparent irrelevance. The main plot line comes to a satisfying conclusion that may be even more biting social commentary today than it was in 2010.

A large part of the plot does involve Hell, so a warning for those who haven't read much Banks: He adores elaborate descriptions of body horror and physical torture. The sections involving Prin and Chay are rather grim and horrific, probably a bit worse than Dante's Inferno. I have a low tolerance for horror and I was able to read past and around the worst bits, but be warned that Banks indulges his love for the painfully grotesque quite a bit.

This was great, and exactly what I was hoping for when I picked it up. It's not the strongest Culture novel (for me, that's either The Player of Games or Excession), but it's one of the better ones. Highly recommended, although if you're new to the Culture, I would start with one of the earlier books that provide a more gradual introduction to the Culture and Special Circumstances.

Followed, in the somewhat disconnected Culture series sense, by The Hydrogen Sonata.

Content warnings: Rape (largely off-screen), graphic violence, lots of Bosch-style grotesque torture, and a lot of Veppers being a thoroughly awful human being as a viewpoint character.

Rating: 8 out of 10

Review: Collision Course, by Michelle Diener

Collision Course is the sixth novel in the Class 5 science fiction series and the first that doesn't use the Dark X naming convention. There are lots of spoilers in this story for the earlier books, but you don't have to remember all the details of previous events. Like the novella, Dark Ambitions, this novel returns to Rose, Sazo, and Dav instead of introducing another Earth woman and Class 5 ship.

In Dark Class, Ellie discovered an interesting artifact of a previously-unknown space-faring civilization. Rose, Sazo, and Dav are on their way to make first contact when, during a routine shuttle flight between the Class 5 and Dav's Grih military ship, Rose is abducted. The aliens they came to contact have an aggressive, leverage-based negotiating strategy. They're also in the middle of a complicated war with more sides than are readily apparent.

What I liked most about Dark Horse, the first book of this series and our introduction to Rose, was the revealed ethical system and a tense plot that hinged primarily on establishing mutual trust when there were excellent reasons for the characters to not trust each other. As the series has continued, I think the plots have become more complicated but the ethical dilemmas and revealing moments of culture shock have become less common. That is certainly true of Collision Course; this is science fiction as thriller, with a complex factional conflict, a lot of events, more plot reversals than the earlier books, but also less ethics and philosophy.

I'm not sure if this is a complaint. I kind of miss the ethics and philosophy, but Diener also hasn't had much new to say for the past few books. The plot of Collision Course is quite satisfyingly twisty for a popcorn-style science fiction series. I was kept guessing about the merits of some of the factions quite late into the book, although admittedly I was in the mood for light entertainment and was not trying too hard to figure out where the book was going. I did read nearly the entire book in one sitting and stayed up until 2am to finish it, which is a solid indication that something Diener was doing worked.

I do have quibbles, though. One is that the ending is a bit unsatisfying. Like Sazo, I was getting quite annoyed at the people capturing (and recapturing) Rose and would have enjoyed somewhat more decisive consequences. Also, and here I have to be vague to avoid spoilers, I was expecting a bit more of a redemption arc for one of the players in the multi-sided conflict. The ending I did get was believable but rather sad, and I wish Diener had either chosen a different outcome (this is light happily-ever-after science fiction, after all) or wrestled more directly with the implications. There were a bit too many "wait, one more thing" ending reversals and not quite enough emotional payoff for me.

The other quibble is that Collision Course was a bit too damsel in distress for this series. Rose is pregnant, which Diener uses throughout the book as a way to raise the stakes of the plot and also make Rose more annoyed but also less capable than she was in her earlier novel. Both Sazo and Dav are in full heroic rescue mode, and while Diener still ensures Rose is primarily responsible for her own fate, there is some "military men attempt to protect the vulnerable woman" here. One of the things I like about this series is that it does not use that plot, so while the balance between Rose rescuing herself and other people rescuing her is still tilted towards Rose, I would have liked this book more if Rose were in firmer control of events.

I will mostly ignore the fact that a human and a Grih sexually reproducing makes little to no biological sense, since Star Trek did similar things routinely and it's an established genre trope. But I admit that it still annoys me a bit that the alien hunk is essentially human except that he's obsessed with Rose's singing and has pointy ears. Diener cares about Rose's pregnancy a lot more than I did, which added to my mild grumpiness at how often it came up.

Overall, this was fine. I prefer a bit more of a protagonist discovering how powerful she is by making ingenious use of the ethical dilemmas her captors have trapped themselves in, and a bit less of Rose untangling a complicated political situation by getting abducted by every player serially, but it still kept the pages turning. Any book that is sufficiently engrossing for me to read straight through is working at some level. Collision Course was highly readable, undemanding, and distracting, which is what I was looking for when I read it. I would put it about middle of pack in the series. If Rose's pregnancy is more interesting to you than it was to me, that might push it a bit higher.

If you have gotten this far in the series, you will probably enjoy this, although it does feel like Diener is running out of new things to say about this universe. That's unfortunate given the number of threads about AI sentience and rights that could still be followed, but I think tracing them properly would require more philosophical meat than Diener intends for these books. Which is why the next book I grabbed was a Culture novel.

Currently this is the final book in the Class 5 series, but there is no inherent reason why Diener couldn't write more of them.

Rating: 7 out of 10

Review: The Teller of Small Fortunes, by Julie Leong

The Teller of Small Fortunes is a cozy found-family fantasy with a roughly medieval setting. It was Julie Leong's first novel.

Tao is a traveling teller of small fortunes. In her wagon, pulled by her friendly mule Laohu, she wanders the small villages of Eshtera and reads the trivial fortunes of villagers in the tea leaves. An upcoming injury, a lost ring, a future kiss, a small business deal... she looks around the large lines of fate and finds the small threads. After a few days, she moves on, making her solitary way to another village.

Tao is not originally from Eshtera. She is Shinn, which means she encounters a bit of suspicion and hostility mixed with the fascination of the exotic. (Language and culture clues lead me to think Shinara is intended to be this world's not-China, but it's not a direct mapping.) Tao uses the fascination to help her business; fortune telling is more believable from someone who seems exotic. The hostility she's learned to deflect and ignore. In the worst case, there's always another village.

If you've read any cozy found-family novels, you know roughly what happens next. Tao encounters people on the road and, for various reasons, they decide to travel together. The first two are a massive mercenary (Mash) and a semi-reformed thief (Silt), who join Tao somewhat awkwardly after Tao gives Mash a fortune that is far more significant than she intended. One town later, they pick up an apprentice baker best known for her misshapen pastries. They also collect a stray cat, because of course they do. It's that sort of book.

For me, this sort of novel lives or dies by the characters, so it's good news that I liked Tao and enjoyed spending time with her. She's quiet, resilient, competent, and self-contained, with a difficult past and some mysteries and emotions the others can draw over time. She's also thoughtful and introspective, which means the tight third-person narration that almost always stays on Tao offers emotional growth to mull over. I also liked Kina (the baker) and Mash; they're a bit more obvious and straightforward, but Kina adds irrepressible energy and Mash is a good example of the sometimes-gruff soldier with a soft heart. Silt was a bit more annoying and I never entirely warmed to him, but he's tolerable and does get a bit of much-needed (if superficial) character development.

It takes some time for the reader to learn about the primary conflict of the story (Tao does not give up her secrets quickly), so I won't spoil it, but I thought it worked well. I was momentarily afraid the story would develop a clear villain, but Leong has some satisfying alternate surprises in store. The ending was well-done, although it is very happily-ever-after in a way that may strike some readers as too neat. The Teller of Small Fortunes aims for a quiet and relaxed mood rather than forcing character development through difficult choices; it's a fine aim for a novel, but it won't match everyone's mood.

I liked the world-building, although expect small and somewhat disconnected details rather than an overarching theory of magic. Tao's ability gets the most elaboration, for obvious reasons, and I liked how Leong describes it and explores its consequences. Most of the attention in the setting is on the friction, wistfulness, and small reminders of coming from a different culture than everyone around you, but so long ago that you are not fully a part of either world. This, I thought, was very well-done and is one of the places where the story is comfortable with complex feelings and doesn't try to reach a simplifying conclusion.

There is one bit of the story that felt like it was taken directly out of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign to a degree that felt jarring, but that was the only odd world-building note.

This book felt like a warm cup of tea intended to comfort and relax, without large or complex thoughts about the world. It's not intended to be challenging; there are a few plot twists I didn't anticipate, but nothing that dramatic, and I doubt anyone will be surprised by the conclusions it reaches. It's a pleasant time with some nice people and just enough tension and mystery to add some motivation to find out what happens next. If that's what you're in the mood for, recommended. If you want a book that has Things To Say or will put you on the edge of your seat, maybe save this one for another mood.

All the on-line sources I found for this book call it a standalone, but The Keeper of Magical Things is set in the same world, so I would call it a loose series with different protagonists. The Teller of Small Fortunes is a complete story in one book, though.

Rating: 7 out of 10