Matter

Book cover of Matter.
Book 8 of the Culture series

Review

Matter, by Iain M. Banks, is the eighth Culture book. It begins with a tale of betrayal in an early-industrial kingdom housed within a shellworld, and ends with the unleashing of a cosmic horror.

Matter opens with the murder of the king of Sarl by his right-hand man, Mertis tyl Loesp, just as the king’s forces defeat an invading Deldeyn army. The story follows the king’s three children—the playboy Prince Ferbin, the young scholar Prince Oramen, and the Princess-turned-Culture-agent Djan Seriy Anaplian—as they deal with their father’s betrayal and death.

One of the strongest aspects of Iain M. Banks’s writing is the sense of place he brings to his stories. His books feature unique locations that feel real and which I remember long after putting the book down: the colossal megaships in Consider Phlebas, the fiery fortress in The Player of Games, the landlocked battleship in Use of Weapons, the glacial mass-grave in Excession, and the wind-powered cable cars and airsphere in Look to Windward. Matter continues this tradition.

The story largely takes place on the shellworld Sursamen, a megastructure made of concentric spherical shells. The kingdom of Sarl exists on the eighth level down from the surface, while their enemies, the Deldeyn, occupy the ninth. The shellworld is jointly administered (and disputed) by two advanced civilizations: the Oct and the Aultridia, who both manipulate the inhabitants for their own purposes. The Oct believe themselves to be descendants of the shellworlds’ builders, the Involucra, and search Sursamen for proof of this connection.

The Oct and Aultridia themselves are monitored by the more powerful Nariscene, who in turn are monitored by the even more advanced Morthanveld—a species the Culture has taken interest in as they approach “Culture-like” status. This introduces one of Matter’s central themes: hierarchy. The novel explores multiple hierarchical structures: the technological ladder of galactic species, the physical levels of the shellworld, the organization of various governments, and the layers of manipulation and scheming between species.

The book’s first section superficially resembles George R. R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones, with its political intrigue, betrayal, and power struggles set in a chivalrous society. However, this proves to be misdirection. After the political machinations conclude, the story shifts closer to H. P. Lovecraft’s The Nameless City: the massive Hyeng-zhar waterfall (another of Iain M. Banks’s memorable locations) reveals an ancient, nameless city containing advanced artifacts, including one that is conscious and has remained sleeping for eons, waiting to awaken.

The cosmic horror—revealed to be a creation of the Iln, an ancient race that destroyed many shellworlds before vanishing—ultimately falls short of its setup. It appears in the final tenth of the book, causing an abrupt shift in focus. Although the Culture versus a super-advanced power sounds exciting, it feels both too rushed and at the same time too drawn out. A large part of this section is describing Djan and Ferbin walking down passageways and opening doors as they traverse the shellworld heading towards its core. The final confrontation ends (intentionally) very suddenly. I had expected something quite different: a story of Djan using her advanced training and technology to guide the development of Sarl, but the narrative takes a sharp turn away from that.

Still an enjoyable book with some unforgettable places. Next up is The Left Hand of Darkness for my book club, before I continue the Culture series with Surface Detail.