Call number
Genres
Collection
Publication
New York: Villard, 1998.
Description
Fiction. Horror. Literature. Humor (Fiction.) HTML:The polarizing literary debut by Scottish author Ian Banks, The Wasp Factory is the bizarre, imaginative, disturbing, and darkly comic look into the mind of a child psychopath. Meet Frank Cauldhame. Just sixteen, and unconventional to say the least: Two years after I killed Blyth I murdered my young brother Paul, for quite different and more fundamental reasons than I'd disposed of Blyth, and then a year after that I did for my young cousin Esmerelda, more or less on a whim. That's my score to date. Three. I haven't killed anybody for years, and don't intend to ever again. It was just a stage I was going through.
Awards
Otherwise Award (Shortlist)
Kurd Laßwitz Preis (Winner — 1992)
British Columbia Historical Federation Lieutenant Governor’s Medal for Historical Writing (Winner — 2014)
The Guardian 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read (Science Fiction and Fantasy)
Waterstones Books of the Century (32 — 1997)
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
1984
ISBN
0037550105
Similar in this library
User reviews
LibraryThing member kidzdoc
Iain Banks' debut novel is set on a small island adjacent to a Scottish town and is narrated by Frank, a 16 year old boy who was greviously maimed as a younger child. He spends his days protecting the island from real and perceived invaders, using embedded poles crowned with skulls from animals he
Frank is not the most dysfunctional member of the Cauldhame family, though. His older brother Eric was institutionalized after a traumatic event as a student led him to torment humans and kill dogs for enjoyment. Frank and his father have learned that Eric has escaped from an asylum, and through regular phone calls to Frank he tells his younger brother that he plans to pay them a visit, which strikes fear in them and the town's residents. As he comes ever closer, Frank bolsters the island's defenses, while knowing that a potentially violent showdown with his brother is all but inevitable.
The Wasp Factory was one of the most depraved, nauseating, and meritless books I've read in a long time. Many readers hold it in high opinion, though, as it has been selected by a group of British readers as one of the top 100 novels of the 20th century. Based on comments I've read, I suspect that readers will either love it or, like me, think that this adolescent fantasy is complete rubbish.
Show More
has killed to mark off the territory around the house that he shares with his father. Frank had murdered three younger members of his family on separate occasions when he was younger, and somehow managed to convince his father and local authorities that each one was a tragic accident, to his great pleasure. He is viewed as a pariah by most people in town, except for a couple of friends with whom he gets stinking drunk on a regular basis.Frank is not the most dysfunctional member of the Cauldhame family, though. His older brother Eric was institutionalized after a traumatic event as a student led him to torment humans and kill dogs for enjoyment. Frank and his father have learned that Eric has escaped from an asylum, and through regular phone calls to Frank he tells his younger brother that he plans to pay them a visit, which strikes fear in them and the town's residents. As he comes ever closer, Frank bolsters the island's defenses, while knowing that a potentially violent showdown with his brother is all but inevitable.
The Wasp Factory was one of the most depraved, nauseating, and meritless books I've read in a long time. Many readers hold it in high opinion, though, as it has been selected by a group of British readers as one of the top 100 novels of the 20th century. Based on comments I've read, I suspect that readers will either love it or, like me, think that this adolescent fantasy is complete rubbish.
Show Less
LibraryThing member brenzi
“Brilliant...irresistible...compelling.” No that’s not my assessment. That’s what the NY Times had to say about The Wasp Factory when it was first published in 1984. This won’t be the first time I have disagreed with the NY paper. My thoughts are more in line with The Times (London) whose
Frank Cauldhame is the unsavory narrator of Banks’ novel. Sixteen years old and he thinks back fondly on the three children he killed before he turned ten. This is in addition to the hundreds of animals he has killed in order to keep everything on his island under control. Control is very important to Frank and his rituals and an arsenal that includes a catapult, flame thrower and pipe bombs, help him maintain it to his satisfaction. Obviously struggling with some kind of mental illness, Frank is obsessed with ritualistic behavior. He lives with his father (who is harboring some secrets of his own in his locked study) after being abandoned by his mother as a baby. The birth was never recorded so it’s as if Frank doesn’t exist and people in town think his father is his uncle.
The action in the story revolves around Frank’s brother Eric, who has escaped from an insane asylum and is heading for the island where who knows what might happen. Eric has not been “right” since an earlier, hinted at “incident,” which resulted in Eric terrorizing the island’s dogs until he was eventually locked up.
With all this going on you would think the book would be gripping and unputdownable but not for me. I had trouble maintaining interest throughout this debut novel. Something, that unidentifiable “it” that allows a reader to become deeply immersed in a satisfying narrative, was completely missing, until the last chapter where the plot twist tries to save the day and explain away why Frank acted the way he did. Too little, too late for me. I’m afraid I can’t get no satisfaction from this one.
Show More
one word description, “Rubbish!” pretty much sums it up. If it had any redeeming quality at all, I am completely stumped to uncover it. Some people compare this to Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love which was published in 1989. But Dunn’s novel had the one thing that was totally absent from The Wasp Factory---a sympathetic narrator. It made all the difference in the world to me.Frank Cauldhame is the unsavory narrator of Banks’ novel. Sixteen years old and he thinks back fondly on the three children he killed before he turned ten. This is in addition to the hundreds of animals he has killed in order to keep everything on his island under control. Control is very important to Frank and his rituals and an arsenal that includes a catapult, flame thrower and pipe bombs, help him maintain it to his satisfaction. Obviously struggling with some kind of mental illness, Frank is obsessed with ritualistic behavior. He lives with his father (who is harboring some secrets of his own in his locked study) after being abandoned by his mother as a baby. The birth was never recorded so it’s as if Frank doesn’t exist and people in town think his father is his uncle.
The action in the story revolves around Frank’s brother Eric, who has escaped from an insane asylum and is heading for the island where who knows what might happen. Eric has not been “right” since an earlier, hinted at “incident,” which resulted in Eric terrorizing the island’s dogs until he was eventually locked up.
With all this going on you would think the book would be gripping and unputdownable but not for me. I had trouble maintaining interest throughout this debut novel. Something, that unidentifiable “it” that allows a reader to become deeply immersed in a satisfying narrative, was completely missing, until the last chapter where the plot twist tries to save the day and explain away why Frank acted the way he did. Too little, too late for me. I’m afraid I can’t get no satisfaction from this one.
Show Less
LibraryThing member richardderus
Rating: 4.95* of five
The Publisher Says: Frank--no ordinary sixteen-year-old--lives with his father outside a remote Scottish village. Their life is, to say the least, unconventional. Frank's mother abandoned them years ago: his elder brother Eric is confined to a psychiatric hospital; & his father
My Review: Much has been said in disgust and even anger about this polarizing book. Some have called for it to be banned. Others have written the equivalent of a silent finger-down-the-throat mime.
You are all entitled to your opinion. Here is mine: This book is brilliant. It will be remembered long long after the pleasant entertainments of the day are more forgotten than Restoration drama. (Hands up anyone who knows who Colley Cibber is. And don't front. Or use Wikipedia.)
I'm also an ardent partisan of Lolita, that deeply disturbing and very beautiful book by a pedophile about his pursuit of the perfect lover. I loved Mrs. Dalloway, the chilling, near-perfect narrative of a wealthy woman's desperation and crushing ennui.
So here's the deal: Frank, and his brother Eric, aren't role models, aren't people you'd want to be around, aren't amusing compadres for a jaunt along the path to the Banal Canal. They are, like Hum and Lo and Clarissa and Septimus, avatars (in the pre-Internet sense) of the raw, bleeding, agonic (unangled, in this use) purposelessness of life. They are the proof that salvation is a cruel ruse. These characters rip your fears from the base of your brain and move them, puppetlike, eerily masterful withal, into your worst nightmares.
And all without resorting to the supernatural.
Humanity comes off badly in this book. The truth of what made Frank the person he is will leave you more chilled than any silly evocation of a devil in a religious text. Frank's very being is an ambulatory evil act. But the reason for it, the motivating factor, is the absolute worst horror this book contains. All the animal-torture stuff is unpleasant, I agree. It's not as though it's lovingly and lingeringly described. And it pales in comparison to Frank's raison d'etre.
So yes, this book is strong meat. It's got deeply twisted characters enacting their damage before us, the safely removed audience. It's making a serious point about human nature. And it's doing all of that in quite beautifully wrought prose, without so much as one wasted word.
But it's essentially a warning to the reader: Don't go there. Don't do the pale, weak-kneed versions of the rage-and-hate fueled horrors inflicted on Frank, and even on Eric. Pay attention, be mindful of the many ways we as lazy moral actors condone the creation of Erics and Franks in our world.
Pay attention.
The Publisher Says: Frank--no ordinary sixteen-year-old--lives with his father outside a remote Scottish village. Their life is, to say the least, unconventional. Frank's mother abandoned them years ago: his elder brother Eric is confined to a psychiatric hospital; & his father
Show More
measures out his eccentricities on an imperial scale. Frank has turned to strange acts of violence to vent his frustrations. In the bizarre daily rituals there is some solace. But when news comes of Eric's escape from the hospital Frank has to prepare the ground for his brother's inevitable return--an event that explodes the mysteries of the past & changes Frank utterly.My Review: Much has been said in disgust and even anger about this polarizing book. Some have called for it to be banned. Others have written the equivalent of a silent finger-down-the-throat mime.
You are all entitled to your opinion. Here is mine: This book is brilliant. It will be remembered long long after the pleasant entertainments of the day are more forgotten than Restoration drama. (Hands up anyone who knows who Colley Cibber is. And don't front. Or use Wikipedia.)
I'm also an ardent partisan of Lolita, that deeply disturbing and very beautiful book by a pedophile about his pursuit of the perfect lover. I loved Mrs. Dalloway, the chilling, near-perfect narrative of a wealthy woman's desperation and crushing ennui.
So here's the deal: Frank, and his brother Eric, aren't role models, aren't people you'd want to be around, aren't amusing compadres for a jaunt along the path to the Banal Canal. They are, like Hum and Lo and Clarissa and Septimus, avatars (in the pre-Internet sense) of the raw, bleeding, agonic (unangled, in this use) purposelessness of life. They are the proof that salvation is a cruel ruse. These characters rip your fears from the base of your brain and move them, puppetlike, eerily masterful withal, into your worst nightmares.
And all without resorting to the supernatural.
Humanity comes off badly in this book. The truth of what made Frank the person he is will leave you more chilled than any silly evocation of a devil in a religious text. Frank's very being is an ambulatory evil act. But the reason for it, the motivating factor, is the absolute worst horror this book contains. All the animal-torture stuff is unpleasant, I agree. It's not as though it's lovingly and lingeringly described. And it pales in comparison to Frank's raison d'etre.
So yes, this book is strong meat. It's got deeply twisted characters enacting their damage before us, the safely removed audience. It's making a serious point about human nature. And it's doing all of that in quite beautifully wrought prose, without so much as one wasted word.
But it's essentially a warning to the reader: Don't go there. Don't do the pale, weak-kneed versions of the rage-and-hate fueled horrors inflicted on Frank, and even on Eric. Pay attention, be mindful of the many ways we as lazy moral actors condone the creation of Erics and Franks in our world.
Pay attention.
Show Less
LibraryThing member SqueakyChu
This book is the ultimate "creep-out"! I thought it was great. Its theme (which is only fully revealed at book's end) has been handled before in other novels I've read, but I thought this novel did it in a most bizarre way.
For the sensitive...skip this book. It's full of cruelty to animals and
If you like "weird", this is your book. The main character, Frank Cauldhame, is a teenager who lives on a small island in Scotland with his dad. Frank reports that he himself murdered three children. Frank learns that Eric, his mentally ill older brother who had been formerly accused of setting dogs on fire and feeding maggots to children, has just escaped from the hospital. Both Frank and his dad feel sure that Eric will eventually try to return to their home.
This was a book of family secrets. What I loved most about this story was how the secrets were revealed in interesting ways. I also enjoyed the description of the island setting (the weather, the birds, the sheep, the land) and The Wasp Factory, Frank's very strange altar/retreat.
I feel certain that this book is one that a reader will either love or hate. Count me among the former.
For the sensitive...skip this book. It's full of cruelty to animals and
Show More
children. If you can read this as a novel and not as a reflection of true life, then be prepared for a story that will hold you in its grip directly to the end. Know that the first chapter or two seem not to make any sense. In fact, I read those two chapters twice before I was so taken in by the story that I had to then read it straight through. If you like "weird", this is your book. The main character, Frank Cauldhame, is a teenager who lives on a small island in Scotland with his dad. Frank reports that he himself murdered three children. Frank learns that Eric, his mentally ill older brother who had been formerly accused of setting dogs on fire and feeding maggots to children, has just escaped from the hospital. Both Frank and his dad feel sure that Eric will eventually try to return to their home.
This was a book of family secrets. What I loved most about this story was how the secrets were revealed in interesting ways. I also enjoyed the description of the island setting (the weather, the birds, the sheep, the land) and The Wasp Factory, Frank's very strange altar/retreat.
I feel certain that this book is one that a reader will either love or hate. Count me among the former.
Show Less
LibraryThing member EBT1002
Our first-person narrator is sociopathic 16-year-old Frank who lives with his father on an island just off the mainland near a town in Scotland. Frank is a creepy, meticulous, morally warped, creative, delusional young man. His brother, who has escaped from jail may be making his way "home" and the
"I know who I am and I know my limitations. I restrict my horizons for my own good reasons; fear -- oh yes, I admit it -- and a need for reassurance and safety in a world which just so happened to treat me very cruelly at an age before I had any real chance of affecting it."
Right.
It's hard to write much about this novel without spoiling it, so I'll just say that I think it's a brilliant depiction of the mind and soul of a sociopath, as well as an interesting exploration of the eternal nurture/nature debate on human development. And there's the thread of fate vs. destiny vs. random life paths (is there a greater being putting obstacles in our way and watching as we navigate the terrain?). As I read the last page, the old Jethro Tull song made its way into my mind: "And he who made kittens put snakes in the grass, he's a lover of life but a player of pawns....." I'm not a believer, but that line has always resonated deeply for me.
This book is not for the squeamish (and I would usually count myself among them, especially when animals are the victims, but for some reason I was able to numb myself to the brutality depicted herein) and there are those who will think it reprehensible. But I give Iain Banks great credit for this courageous novel.
Show More
narrative ostensibly centers around Frank's management of the implications of his brother's potential return. But, of course, the real story is Frank's growing up years, including his very creative murders of three children. He portrays himself as certain and confident: "I know who I am and I know my limitations. I restrict my horizons for my own good reasons; fear -- oh yes, I admit it -- and a need for reassurance and safety in a world which just so happened to treat me very cruelly at an age before I had any real chance of affecting it."
Right.
It's hard to write much about this novel without spoiling it, so I'll just say that I think it's a brilliant depiction of the mind and soul of a sociopath, as well as an interesting exploration of the eternal nurture/nature debate on human development. And there's the thread of fate vs. destiny vs. random life paths (is there a greater being putting obstacles in our way and watching as we navigate the terrain?). As I read the last page, the old Jethro Tull song made its way into my mind: "And he who made kittens put snakes in the grass, he's a lover of life but a player of pawns....." I'm not a believer, but that line has always resonated deeply for me.
This book is not for the squeamish (and I would usually count myself among them, especially when animals are the victims, but for some reason I was able to numb myself to the brutality depicted herein) and there are those who will think it reprehensible. But I give Iain Banks great credit for this courageous novel.
Show Less
LibraryThing member gbill
My, what a wee bit of sunshine this book was.
In a nutshell: an adolescent boy lives with his father on an island in Scotland. His older brother has been locked up in an insane asylum, but has recently escaped. The boy recounts his own dark and violent childhood and various other sadistic exploits
This is a book that explores the darkest part of humanity. Childhood is a time which we often romanticize as innocent, but fail to remember that it’s a time in which young boys find it cool to destroy, blow things up, and torture living things, be they younger siblings or defenseless animals. The cruelty here is taken to an extreme, and this is not a book for the faint of heart. I found it hard to get past the excessive violence and torture to animals, and it’s not a surprise that the book was highly controversial when published in 1984. Banks seems to revel in that. On the back cover, in addition to quotes from positive reviews, he includes a couple of negative ones, such as the succinct “Rubbish!” from The Times in London.
The book does not spend a lot of time pondering deep questions, but one that’s provoked is whether violence in humanity is innate, or whether it’s learned through trauma.
It’s hard to process my feelings and give the book a review score. There is a part of me that wants to knock it down as deliberately playing up violence to gain attention and for appealing to our lowest natures. On the other hand, isn’t this what macabre writers like Edgar Allen Poe have done before – explore our dark sides, while piquing our interest?
The writing here is excellent, and the voice in the first person, while brutal, is honest. One of the parts I loved in particular was when the boy gets drunk with his friend. I also liked the little touches Banks added to his minor characters. The story is taut, focused, and a page-turner. The humor is wry, and I loved the sprinkling of Scottish idioms and slang. I didn’t see the ending coming, though I confess I did find it a little hard to believe.
Bottom line, I suppose the reason for four stars is that there is an absurdity about it all which did allow me to emotionally distance myself and to appreciate Banks for his skill as a writer, while at the same time recognizing the truth in the violent instincts which we all unfortunately have.
In a nutshell: an adolescent boy lives with his father on an island in Scotland. His older brother has been locked up in an insane asylum, but has recently escaped. The boy recounts his own dark and violent childhood and various other sadistic exploits
Show More
in his day to day life, while waiting for his brother’s return. Both boys are sociopaths, and quite possibly psychopaths. This is a book that explores the darkest part of humanity. Childhood is a time which we often romanticize as innocent, but fail to remember that it’s a time in which young boys find it cool to destroy, blow things up, and torture living things, be they younger siblings or defenseless animals. The cruelty here is taken to an extreme, and this is not a book for the faint of heart. I found it hard to get past the excessive violence and torture to animals, and it’s not a surprise that the book was highly controversial when published in 1984. Banks seems to revel in that. On the back cover, in addition to quotes from positive reviews, he includes a couple of negative ones, such as the succinct “Rubbish!” from The Times in London.
The book does not spend a lot of time pondering deep questions, but one that’s provoked is whether violence in humanity is innate, or whether it’s learned through trauma.
It’s hard to process my feelings and give the book a review score. There is a part of me that wants to knock it down as deliberately playing up violence to gain attention and for appealing to our lowest natures. On the other hand, isn’t this what macabre writers like Edgar Allen Poe have done before – explore our dark sides, while piquing our interest?
The writing here is excellent, and the voice in the first person, while brutal, is honest. One of the parts I loved in particular was when the boy gets drunk with his friend. I also liked the little touches Banks added to his minor characters. The story is taut, focused, and a page-turner. The humor is wry, and I loved the sprinkling of Scottish idioms and slang. I didn’t see the ending coming, though I confess I did find it a little hard to believe.
Bottom line, I suppose the reason for four stars is that there is an absurdity about it all which did allow me to emotionally distance myself and to appreciate Banks for his skill as a writer, while at the same time recognizing the truth in the violent instincts which we all unfortunately have.
Show Less
LibraryThing member dczapka
The Wasp Factory is the kind of novel that people warn you about. In fact, the reputation of the book is so strong that the back cover of my edition is covered not only with complimentary reviews, but also with blurbs declaring just how awful and offensive the book is. It's hard to believe that a
The novel tells the story of Frank Cauldhame, a sixteen-year-old who lives on a small Scottish island with few friends, little exposure to the outside world, and a family consisting of a quiet but domineering father and a brother who has recently escaped from a mental institution. While Eric, the brother, traverses his way back to the house, Frank passes the time performing strange rituals, many of which involve animal torture, and exploring some strange and traumatic events in the family's history. As Eric gets closer and closer, the revelation of some major family secrets becomes inevitable.
Despite such a fascinating setup--including a teaser on the back cover of the book explaining how Frank was responsible for the deaths of three people, including two relatives--the book starts out incredibly slowly. And while the pacing is deliberate, it's still drags a bit too much to sustain the high amount of bait-and-switch suspense Banks loads into the novel's first half. There's a lot of alluding to Frank's issues and to what could have affected Eric so traumatically, but it takes quite some time to get there.
By the time we do get those revelations, it's hard to know exactly what to make of things. Frank is your typical unreliable narrator, so while the reader is able to develop a good sense of character, the other characters get a bit of short shrift. Frank's father, in particular, is such a crucial character, but we don't get to know very much about him because Frank holds such specific and pointed opinions of him, it's hard to really get to know him too well. And by the end, when most of what we know about Frank gets turned on its end, it's hard to get a sense of what we've known about ANY character encountered in the book.
The bottom line, in my view, is that the attraction of The Wasp Factory appears to have become more about its reputation for controversy than about any kind of controversial content itself. Don't get me wrong: there are moments in this book that are difficult, and the ultimate revelation of "what happened to Eric" is both disturbing and stomach-churning. But it all seems, by the end, in service of little more than shock value, and that renders much of the book shallow and empty. The Wasp Factory is an odd and unique novel, but not necessarily one that will stay in your mind for as long as the critics might make you think it will.
Show More
book can live up to such wildly outrageous claims, and I'm here to tell you that, in my view, it doesn't.The novel tells the story of Frank Cauldhame, a sixteen-year-old who lives on a small Scottish island with few friends, little exposure to the outside world, and a family consisting of a quiet but domineering father and a brother who has recently escaped from a mental institution. While Eric, the brother, traverses his way back to the house, Frank passes the time performing strange rituals, many of which involve animal torture, and exploring some strange and traumatic events in the family's history. As Eric gets closer and closer, the revelation of some major family secrets becomes inevitable.
Despite such a fascinating setup--including a teaser on the back cover of the book explaining how Frank was responsible for the deaths of three people, including two relatives--the book starts out incredibly slowly. And while the pacing is deliberate, it's still drags a bit too much to sustain the high amount of bait-and-switch suspense Banks loads into the novel's first half. There's a lot of alluding to Frank's issues and to what could have affected Eric so traumatically, but it takes quite some time to get there.
By the time we do get those revelations, it's hard to know exactly what to make of things. Frank is your typical unreliable narrator, so while the reader is able to develop a good sense of character, the other characters get a bit of short shrift. Frank's father, in particular, is such a crucial character, but we don't get to know very much about him because Frank holds such specific and pointed opinions of him, it's hard to really get to know him too well. And by the end, when most of what we know about Frank gets turned on its end, it's hard to get a sense of what we've known about ANY character encountered in the book.
The bottom line, in my view, is that the attraction of The Wasp Factory appears to have become more about its reputation for controversy than about any kind of controversial content itself. Don't get me wrong: there are moments in this book that are difficult, and the ultimate revelation of "what happened to Eric" is both disturbing and stomach-churning. But it all seems, by the end, in service of little more than shock value, and that renders much of the book shallow and empty. The Wasp Factory is an odd and unique novel, but not necessarily one that will stay in your mind for as long as the critics might make you think it will.
Show Less
LibraryThing member David_David_Katzman
A well-written intriguing inner monologue but eventually neither complex nor deep as a whole work.
I went into this novel expecting it to be science fiction. Dead wrong. Once I have an inkling that I want to read a certain book—such as if I hear about the author, read the beginning of the summary,
The Wasp Factory is a moderately realist (if extreme) drama set in the near past (90s?) on an isolated island off a small town in the U.K. It is a first-person drama of a psychopathic protagonist with a psychopathic brother.
In a nutshell, we get a character study with a twist ending
In fact, this book is primarily a character study with a modest plot attached. Most of the book consists of the political and cultural musings, strange obsessions, and amoral cruelties of the main character, Frank, with a few set pieces designed to make him seem more likeable. The cultural and political musings were the most interesting elements to me, and as such garned this the three stars. Were they brilliant revelations? Certainly not but they were at least intriguing. The scenes related to Frank and his friend Jamie—called a dwarf—do not really serve to advance any plot threads. I’m not one who typically demands plot, but as I pondered this book, I started to realize that since the dwarf was not integral to any forward movement in the story, the scenes with him were extraneous and existed only as set pieces to “show us another side” of the main character. Not only that, but I would argue they serve to soften the sociopathology of the main character, to make him seem less despicable, and to give us a little relief from the cruelty. They seem inserted to make him not entirely unlikable. This struck me as manipulative. Something about the “he’s a good friend who just happens to like torturing animals” wasn’t convincing.
Both brothers torture animals. As a vegetarian, I wasn’t offended per se. As a writer, I feel it is perfectly acceptable to present characters who are immoral/amoral or just plain reprehensible in a variety of ways and even make them likeable. I wasn’t offended by the author’s choice. On the other hand, as a reader, I admit it was rather unpleasant to read descriptions of animal torture. Repeated instances of it leave a very unpleasant taste in my mouth. I would, no doubt, feel the same about repeated scenes of rape or torture of humans in a book as well. I would choose not to read such a book if I knew in advance that it was coming because … well, so little time to read and such is not my priority. Do I like books that are difficult or unpleasant to read? Yes, I certainly do. Shocking or extreme, yes, sometimes. But a truly realist drama that features torture or rape or other abuses to the extreme, well, I don’t find such things interesting or valuable to expose myself to. Reading Marabou Stork Nightmares swore me off ever reading Irvine Welsh again, it made me so angry. I tend to think of violence as the easy way to shock people. I’d rather be shocked in some other less mundane fashion.
So do we get a sense for why the two brothers were psychotic? In one sense, we get a very generic answer: moderately fucked up childhoods. Their mother abandoned them when they were young, and the father was generally distant. One could easily say that they acted as absentee parents, and the story wrote them as such as well. Banks does not provide much detail about them. Why Frank’s brother went insane is not clear. I often think explanations just leave more mysteries. Which is okay. But then an authors needs a reason to write something, don’t they? I think it’s the hardest question to answer. Why am I writing this? Most authors who write realist fiction with interior monologues want us to understand the characters. So let’s assume we are intended to understand what drives Frank. In The Wasp Factory, we are lead to believe that a moderately fucked up childhood plus a very specific hidden twist revealed at the end leads to sociopathy. Did I believe it? Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t truly believe it, but I didn’t disbelieve it either. This is a question for psychologists to answer, in a sense. I thought … okay … sure? In the end, The Wasp Factory was an oblique cautionary tale with a moral lesson. Better not do X or you create sociopaths. All right. Not a bad point but I guess it felt like a long way to go for a ham sandwich. Twist endings can have that effect because suddenly everything in the story hinges on the ending. And that is why I do not think this was a very deep or complex novel.
There was also something about the ending that bothered me. There is something about the sense of relief that comes at the end of the book that felt false. It seemed to imply [What follows is a critical spoiler, but it does not give away the twist ending]that despite the clear insanity of the brother and the sociopathy of Frank that … everything might actually work out in the end. It shows some light at the end of the tunnel, that they could overcome their craziness. I didn’t buy it. People that set dogs on fire and put dynamite in rabbits and kill three children (this is described on the back cover the book) do not turn their lives around with a single epiphany.
To demonstrate how clearly this novel is a character study, one only need to recognize that the twist ending is a character twist and not a plot twist. I would even claim that the main plot linethe return of Frank’s brother rather fizzles out and turns into a red herring of sorts, and becomes merely a sounding board to learn about our main character.
If I was doing a Cliff Notes review of this book, I would summarize it as follow [I’m hiding this again but still not giving away the twist ending]
It’s about a demented, cruel nasty character who isn’t all bad. Why is he so demented and cruel? It’s due to his unloving childhood combined with a surprise twist. He also has a brother that makes him seem like the more sane of the two. The end.
I went into this novel expecting it to be science fiction. Dead wrong. Once I have an inkling that I want to read a certain book—such as if I hear about the author, read the beginning of the summary,
Show More
or skim a review by one of my Goodreads friends—then I dig no further. I prefer to read the book cold so that no promotional chatter interferes with my impression of the work itself. In the case of The Wasp Factory, I had some GR friends who liked Iain Banks and another GR friend wanted to trade books, so I swapped with the mistaken impression that Banks was a science fiction writer. Apparently, he does write some science fiction but adds his middle initial “M.” to his science fiction novels. Is this like color coding? He must do it because he’s jealous of George R.R. Martin who has two middle initials.The Wasp Factory is a moderately realist (if extreme) drama set in the near past (90s?) on an isolated island off a small town in the U.K. It is a first-person drama of a psychopathic protagonist with a psychopathic brother.
In a nutshell, we get a character study with a twist ending
In fact, this book is primarily a character study with a modest plot attached. Most of the book consists of the political and cultural musings, strange obsessions, and amoral cruelties of the main character, Frank, with a few set pieces designed to make him seem more likeable. The cultural and political musings were the most interesting elements to me, and as such garned this the three stars. Were they brilliant revelations? Certainly not but they were at least intriguing. The scenes related to Frank and his friend Jamie—called a dwarf—do not really serve to advance any plot threads. I’m not one who typically demands plot, but as I pondered this book, I started to realize that since the dwarf was not integral to any forward movement in the story, the scenes with him were extraneous and existed only as set pieces to “show us another side” of the main character. Not only that, but I would argue they serve to soften the sociopathology of the main character, to make him seem less despicable, and to give us a little relief from the cruelty. They seem inserted to make him not entirely unlikable. This struck me as manipulative. Something about the “he’s a good friend who just happens to like torturing animals” wasn’t convincing.
Both brothers torture animals. As a vegetarian, I wasn’t offended per se. As a writer, I feel it is perfectly acceptable to present characters who are immoral/amoral or just plain reprehensible in a variety of ways and even make them likeable. I wasn’t offended by the author’s choice. On the other hand, as a reader, I admit it was rather unpleasant to read descriptions of animal torture. Repeated instances of it leave a very unpleasant taste in my mouth. I would, no doubt, feel the same about repeated scenes of rape or torture of humans in a book as well. I would choose not to read such a book if I knew in advance that it was coming because … well, so little time to read and such is not my priority. Do I like books that are difficult or unpleasant to read? Yes, I certainly do. Shocking or extreme, yes, sometimes. But a truly realist drama that features torture or rape or other abuses to the extreme, well, I don’t find such things interesting or valuable to expose myself to. Reading Marabou Stork Nightmares swore me off ever reading Irvine Welsh again, it made me so angry. I tend to think of violence as the easy way to shock people. I’d rather be shocked in some other less mundane fashion.
So do we get a sense for why the two brothers were psychotic? In one sense, we get a very generic answer: moderately fucked up childhoods. Their mother abandoned them when they were young, and the father was generally distant. One could easily say that they acted as absentee parents, and the story wrote them as such as well. Banks does not provide much detail about them. Why Frank’s brother went insane is not clear. I often think explanations just leave more mysteries. Which is okay. But then an authors needs a reason to write something, don’t they? I think it’s the hardest question to answer. Why am I writing this? Most authors who write realist fiction with interior monologues want us to understand the characters. So let’s assume we are intended to understand what drives Frank. In The Wasp Factory, we are lead to believe that a moderately fucked up childhood plus a very specific hidden twist revealed at the end leads to sociopathy. Did I believe it? Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t truly believe it, but I didn’t disbelieve it either. This is a question for psychologists to answer, in a sense. I thought … okay … sure? In the end, The Wasp Factory was an oblique cautionary tale with a moral lesson. Better not do X or you create sociopaths. All right. Not a bad point but I guess it felt like a long way to go for a ham sandwich. Twist endings can have that effect because suddenly everything in the story hinges on the ending. And that is why I do not think this was a very deep or complex novel.
There was also something about the ending that bothered me. There is something about the sense of relief that comes at the end of the book that felt false. It seemed to imply [What follows is a critical spoiler, but it does not give away the twist ending]
To demonstrate how clearly this novel is a character study, one only need to recognize that the twist ending is a character twist and not a plot twist. I would even claim that the main plot line
If I was doing a Cliff Notes review of this book, I would summarize it as follow [I’m hiding this again but still not giving away the twist ending]
Show Less
LibraryThing member KidSisyphus
Sigmund Freud falls asleep in his least favorite chair while reading Edward Gorey's Gashycrumb Tinies. He awakens hours later to find that he's slept through two-thirds of Trainspotting as it plays on television. That’s a fair approximation of this book.
LibraryThing member AlisonY
This is the first Iain Banks novel I've read, and, well... wow! It's dark, macabre and violent, yet totally enthralling and thrilling at the same time. I believe that this was Banks' first published novel many moons ago, and what a debut.
I think many people are familiar with the story, but if
These heinous crimes form an interesting comparative with the dreadful activities his brother Eric was locked away in a mental asylum for. Frank is disgusted by his brother's awful (but lesser) crimes, considering his own offences as sadly necessary to keep life on an even keel. For me, this was the real hook when reading this book - Bank so successfully handles the complex different layers of insanity and violence. His character Frank can be touchingly kind in one situation, and yet premeditatedly violent in another. His balance point of what is right and wrong, just and unjust, is totally out of calibration, and through Frank's eyes we understand how, to someone suffering from a severe psychological disorder, something terribly immoral and evil is seen from a disturbingly polar opposite perspective.
Brilliantly disturbing. 4 stars
I think many people are familiar with the story, but if
Show More
you're not the novel is told by 17 year old Frank, who lives on a Scottish island with his father. He is, in a nutshell, seriously unhinged, and has more than a few terrible skeletons in his closet. Bank unfolds the story of Frank's life on the island, living with his oddball father and spending his days carrying out numerous shamanistic rituals of his own invention. Many of these involve violent acts against animals, which can be difficult to read in parts, but even they pale into insignificance once you learn about his actions from the past, which are horribly cruel yet terribly clever and wildly inventive. These heinous crimes form an interesting comparative with the dreadful activities his brother Eric was locked away in a mental asylum for. Frank is disgusted by his brother's awful (but lesser) crimes, considering his own offences as sadly necessary to keep life on an even keel. For me, this was the real hook when reading this book - Bank so successfully handles the complex different layers of insanity and violence. His character Frank can be touchingly kind in one situation, and yet premeditatedly violent in another. His balance point of what is right and wrong, just and unjust, is totally out of calibration, and through Frank's eyes we understand how, to someone suffering from a severe psychological disorder, something terribly immoral and evil is seen from a disturbingly polar opposite perspective.
Brilliantly disturbing. 4 stars
Show Less
LibraryThing member wyvernfriend
I can understand why some people really liked it but it left me ambivalent and rather glad I read it in full sunshine on a summer's day. Frank Culdhane is a deeply unpleasant teen who runs wild on a scottish island, whose father harbours secrets and brother has just run away from a psychiatric
I am left deeply ambivalent about this story. The three stars more reflect the fact that I read this almost like a train wreck, each page making me more and more creeped out by the character. The skill to make me that creeped out is probably more a 4 or 5 star skill of the writer and I do want to explore more of his works, I just never want to go back to this book, I found most of the characters deeply unpleasant and found it like watching a horror movie, I was extremely glad it was all over when it was.
I did read this because of his recent death, I realised that I hadn't read any of his books and was wondering what resonated so deeply with people. This book has etched itself in my brain but he hasn't leapt to the top of my favourite authors, I think I will have to try some others.
Show More
institution. Throughout the story you have phone calls from Eric as he makes he way home, deeply disturbed phone calls. And confessions of Frank of what he did during his life, including murdering three people. He also goes for binges of drinking with a dwarf friend. I am left deeply ambivalent about this story. The three stars more reflect the fact that I read this almost like a train wreck, each page making me more and more creeped out by the character. The skill to make me that creeped out is probably more a 4 or 5 star skill of the writer and I do want to explore more of his works, I just never want to go back to this book, I found most of the characters deeply unpleasant and found it like watching a horror movie, I was extremely glad it was all over when it was.
I did read this because of his recent death, I realised that I hadn't read any of his books and was wondering what resonated so deeply with people. This book has etched itself in my brain but he hasn't leapt to the top of my favourite authors, I think I will have to try some others.
Show Less
LibraryThing member kvrfan
Iain Banks is a fine writer, but I can't honestly say I liked this book because its characters are so distasteful. They're at least warped, if not psychopathic. Furthermore, I didn't find them very convincing. The narrator's brother has suffered a psychotic break which turns him into a monster who
I don't know to whom I would possibly recommend this book. Perhaps to a professional psychologist to see whether these characters sound plausible to him.
Show More
seems to carry none of the vestiges of his former self. As far as the narrator himself goes . . . Well, animal torturer, murderer of his younger family members, for which the great "reveal" doesn't really add up.I don't know to whom I would possibly recommend this book. Perhaps to a professional psychologist to see whether these characters sound plausible to him.
Show Less
LibraryThing member punkypower
As always, my reviews are non-spoilery and as vague as possible to keep them that way.
I'm a vegetarian due to my love of animals...
I did not like this book.
Frank lives with his weak in body/strong in mind father. Out of a family of five, they're all that's left. There's the off-chance that big
I can deal with dark, disturbing and graphic--heck, that's usually one of my criteria for a great book. :p However, this felt more like Banks was going for shock, or trying to create a snuff novel.
The last chapter was pure brilliancy, but I don't think that one chapter should earn this book a spot on the 1001 list.
I'm a vegetarian due to my love of animals...
I did not like this book.
Frank lives with his weak in body/strong in mind father. Out of a family of five, they're all that's left. There's the off-chance that big
Show More
brother Eric might be on his way home. Frank fills his days with rituals--far from the usual play of the other boys. Frank's father wants in his son's loft; Frank wants in his father's study. What secrets are hidden and who will triumph?I can deal with dark, disturbing and graphic--heck, that's usually one of my criteria for a great book. :p However, this felt more like Banks was going for shock, or trying to create a snuff novel.
The last chapter was pure brilliancy, but I don't think that one chapter should earn this book a spot on the 1001 list.
Show Less
LibraryThing member LovingLit
Our narrator here is a teenaged boy. He is an enforced recluse and having not been registered at birth by his parents he makes his appearances in the nearby town as the nephew/cousin of his real father and brother. One consequence of his solitude is that he likes to play elaborate games, by
Young Franks older brother is more obviously mentally unwell, and has recently escaped from a mental institution. The story of Franks childhood comes out tit for tat with the story of his brother, Eric's, journey both into the institution, and back home, post-escape. This latter part of the story is told through the various phone calls Eric makes to Frank on his way.
Both Frank and Eric are dangerous boys who delight in harming living things, Frank being intelligent, is able to rationalise and account for why he "has to do it". It is this aspect of the story that makes me love it. The author is able to give insight into what is going on inside the head of someone whose actions you simply cannot imagine anyone understanding the reasons for. The story is spilled out in an unhurried way that makes you very very keen to keep reading, but that doesn't taunt you with clues and then leave you hanging. Brilliant.
Show More
himself, out on the small island where he lives, right off the coast of Scotland. His games involve dam building, blowing things up, and killing small animals. He is not right in the head.Young Franks older brother is more obviously mentally unwell, and has recently escaped from a mental institution. The story of Franks childhood comes out tit for tat with the story of his brother, Eric's, journey both into the institution, and back home, post-escape. This latter part of the story is told through the various phone calls Eric makes to Frank on his way.
Both Frank and Eric are dangerous boys who delight in harming living things, Frank being intelligent, is able to rationalise and account for why he "has to do it". It is this aspect of the story that makes me love it. The author is able to give insight into what is going on inside the head of someone whose actions you simply cannot imagine anyone understanding the reasons for. The story is spilled out in an unhurried way that makes you very very keen to keep reading, but that doesn't taunt you with clues and then leave you hanging. Brilliant.
Show Less
LibraryThing member mathrocks
Frank Cauldhame is a troubled teenager leading an isolated like on an island with his father. He is, in fact, *very* troubled. He loves torturing animals, including decapitating mice, birds, wasps, etc. He is highly adept at making home made bombs, and revels in building miniature dams and models
But, as Frank repeatedly assures us in this first person narrative, he is sane. It is his older brother, Eric, who likes to set dogs on fire and feed maggots and worms to children who is actually insane. And, now Eric has escaped from the mental institution and is on his way back home.
Frank does have some extenuating circumstances. He has been home schooled by his domineering and eccentric father, educated in a in-depth fashion but with some obvious gaps in his development. His father never registered his birth, and so Frank has no official governmental recognition of his existence; his fear of being found by the government is part of what keeps him on the island. Finally, Frank has a genital mutilation that has maimed him seriously: one wonders how this has affected his development.
All this might seem disturbing or off putting, but Frank narrates everything with an engaging and buoyant voice; in fact, you tend to agree him that maybe he is sane. He has a real enthusiasm for life, and real talents for things like manufacturing bombs. Even his murders seem like a distant past thing, and he writes "It [murdering] was just a stage I was going through."
Many mysteries remain as you read. What is hidden in the study his father so carefully keeps locked? Why is there a huge amount of cordite in the basement of the house? (Frank is unable to reach it and cannot use it for his bomb making, however.) Why triggered Eric's insanity? And what will happen when he arrives home? It is clear through out the book that the story is heading towards a climatic event, but the nature of the event cannot be explained here. Of course, one expects it to be dramatic and unexpected, but the ending is unexpected in a completely different way than one expects. Certainly, the book is filled with clues foreshadowing the final revelations, but I personally completely missed them.
At times the book rises to social satire. There is a short rant against the insanity of politicians and financial leaders, that was probably meant as an echo from the sixties but seems very relevant to present times. Likewise, when evaluating Frank's sanity, one might reflect that his energy, his mechanical abilities at bomb making, and his pleasure in destruction might make him a valued member of society, for instance, an ideal member of an elite tactical fighting force. The bar scenes and drinking scenes, not to mention the way Frank is raised, are clear indictments of the way society treats young adults and denies them opportunities, or on second thought, perhaps indictments of the way young people fritter away their lives. (It makes one think of today's high unemployment rates for young adults.) Finally, Frank's misogyny is a caricature of stereotypes about women's roles, presumably as reflected in TV shows.
The book was not as shocking as I expected from the reviews on the book jacket. In real life, Frank would be a sick and monstrous person; in the book he comes off as relatively pleasant. Many other reviewers have mentioned the shocking nature of the the event of "What happened to Eric" that drove Eric insane. But even this is milder than expected. Nor is it an implausible event. In fact, a similar event happened to a close friend of mine in college while he was working in a hospital as a computer programmer. In his case, it involved an old man instead of a baby: my friend just completely fainted away.
I might have given this five stars, but I deducted one star as a bit of warning that some readers may find the book too distressing.
Show More
of villages downstream, and then blowing up the dams to flood the villages and kill their (imaginary) inhabitants. His father is very controlling, and also distant. And, as we learn, Frank has committed three cold-blooded murders as a child without being caught; having carried out these murders at the tender ages of six, eight, and nine, killing children who are his relatives. But, as Frank repeatedly assures us in this first person narrative, he is sane. It is his older brother, Eric, who likes to set dogs on fire and feed maggots and worms to children who is actually insane. And, now Eric has escaped from the mental institution and is on his way back home.
Frank does have some extenuating circumstances. He has been home schooled by his domineering and eccentric father, educated in a in-depth fashion but with some obvious gaps in his development. His father never registered his birth, and so Frank has no official governmental recognition of his existence; his fear of being found by the government is part of what keeps him on the island. Finally, Frank has a genital mutilation that has maimed him seriously: one wonders how this has affected his development.
All this might seem disturbing or off putting, but Frank narrates everything with an engaging and buoyant voice; in fact, you tend to agree him that maybe he is sane. He has a real enthusiasm for life, and real talents for things like manufacturing bombs. Even his murders seem like a distant past thing, and he writes "It [murdering] was just a stage I was going through."
Many mysteries remain as you read. What is hidden in the study his father so carefully keeps locked? Why is there a huge amount of cordite in the basement of the house? (Frank is unable to reach it and cannot use it for his bomb making, however.) Why triggered Eric's insanity? And what will happen when he arrives home? It is clear through out the book that the story is heading towards a climatic event, but the nature of the event cannot be explained here. Of course, one expects it to be dramatic and unexpected, but the ending is unexpected in a completely different way than one expects. Certainly, the book is filled with clues foreshadowing the final revelations, but I personally completely missed them.
At times the book rises to social satire. There is a short rant against the insanity of politicians and financial leaders, that was probably meant as an echo from the sixties but seems very relevant to present times. Likewise, when evaluating Frank's sanity, one might reflect that his energy, his mechanical abilities at bomb making, and his pleasure in destruction might make him a valued member of society, for instance, an ideal member of an elite tactical fighting force. The bar scenes and drinking scenes, not to mention the way Frank is raised, are clear indictments of the way society treats young adults and denies them opportunities, or on second thought, perhaps indictments of the way young people fritter away their lives. (It makes one think of today's high unemployment rates for young adults.) Finally, Frank's misogyny is a caricature of stereotypes about women's roles, presumably as reflected in TV shows.
The book was not as shocking as I expected from the reviews on the book jacket. In real life, Frank would be a sick and monstrous person; in the book he comes off as relatively pleasant. Many other reviewers have mentioned the shocking nature of the the event of "What happened to Eric" that drove Eric insane. But even this is milder than expected. Nor is it an implausible event. In fact, a similar event happened to a close friend of mine in college while he was working in a hospital as a computer programmer. In his case, it involved an old man instead of a baby: my friend just completely fainted away.
I might have given this five stars, but I deducted one star as a bit of warning that some readers may find the book too distressing.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Soulhaven
It would do this book a great injustice to say that one of my favourite parts (of my edition, anyway) is the selection of reviewers' comments in the opening pages - especially the negative ones! They are hilarious, and are followed up by a highly enjoyable, if controversial, story. Yes, it is a
Show More
challenging read. But, heck, I am a total animal lover, a pacifist and totally unimaginative when it comes to human cruelty, and I love this book. Somehow, Iain Banks writes a character who regularly sets wasps up to kill themselves in his little "factory" (sometimes with a helping hand), and has no trouble setting alight a rabbit or a sheep, and is, yet, not a total turn-off to read (and it's written in first person!). I don't know that I would say that I could identify with Frank, but I could handle going along with him on his misadventures. And that last page makes it all worth it...You know what? I haven't read this book in YEARS... I think it may have to go back on the "to-read" list... Show Less
LibraryThing member DeltaQueen50
Written in the first person singular, The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks tells the story of Frank, who lives with his father on a small island in Scotland. You quickly come to realize that Frank is a deeply disturbed young person, and as he continues telling his story of murder, sacrifice poles, and
Of course, his brother Eric has just escaped from the Mental Hospital and is making his way home, and with his habits of burning dogs and feeding maggots to children, perhaps he is also a human monster. And what is the deal with Frank’s father, holding so many secrets, he is definitely not all there as well.
As the book develops, you eventually come to realize that this is the story of an extremely strange family, and none is stranger than the father, and yes, he truly is the monster. The way he raised both of his children, especially Frank was cruel, unusual, and depraved.
This is a book that certainly isn’t for everyone, in fact, I would recommend that the faint of heart avoid it. There are many scenes of extreme violence towards animals. I am not sure exactly what I will take, if anything, from this gruesome book. The author seemed to be touching on a few themes such as religion and the use (or abuse) of power. All in all, I wonder if the author meant this to stand as a actual story, or was leaning toward this being a fantasy, nightmare piece. All I know that I couldn’t stop reading it, and that it will linger on in my mind for some time.
Show More
the Wasp Factory, a strange device that he uses to predict the future, you eventually realize Frank could very well be a true monster.Of course, his brother Eric has just escaped from the Mental Hospital and is making his way home, and with his habits of burning dogs and feeding maggots to children, perhaps he is also a human monster. And what is the deal with Frank’s father, holding so many secrets, he is definitely not all there as well.
As the book develops, you eventually come to realize that this is the story of an extremely strange family, and none is stranger than the father, and yes, he truly is the monster. The way he raised both of his children, especially Frank was cruel, unusual, and depraved.
This is a book that certainly isn’t for everyone, in fact, I would recommend that the faint of heart avoid it. There are many scenes of extreme violence towards animals. I am not sure exactly what I will take, if anything, from this gruesome book. The author seemed to be touching on a few themes such as religion and the use (or abuse) of power. All in all, I wonder if the author meant this to stand as a actual story, or was leaning toward this being a fantasy, nightmare piece. All I know that I couldn’t stop reading it, and that it will linger on in my mind for some time.
Show Less
LibraryThing member ohernaes
Do not really know what to think of this book. It is very creative, but I somehow felt that it lacked something driving the story forward and I did not get drawn into the action, despite all the good things I have heard about it. Maybe another time.
Centered on the psychopathic child Frank, who is
"A death is always exciting, always makes you realize how alive you are, how vulnerable but so-far-lucky; but the death of somebody close gives you a good excuse to go crazy for a while and do thing that would otherwise be inexcusable. What delight to behave really badly and still get loads of sympathy!"
Centered on the psychopathic child Frank, who is
Show More
partly captured by the following: "A death is always exciting, always makes you realize how alive you are, how vulnerable but so-far-lucky; but the death of somebody close gives you a good excuse to go crazy for a while and do thing that would otherwise be inexcusable. What delight to behave really badly and still get loads of sympathy!"
Show Less
LibraryThing member Carol420
"I had been making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped. I already knew something was going to happen; the Factory told me."
Those lines begin one of the creepiest Scottish characters and novels that I have read in some time. Frank Cauldhame, is a weird and scary
Those lines begin one of the creepiest Scottish characters and novels that I have read in some time. Frank Cauldhame, is a weird and scary
Show More
16 year old who lives on a tiny island connected to mainland Scotland by a bridge. He maintains grisly "Sacrifice Poles" to serve as his early warning system and deterrent against anyone who might invade his territory. Those that choose to push their luck soon find that any luck they had had run out. If the author was going for shock value he achieved it with flying colors creating characters carrying out some really sick and violent acts... the ultimate dysfunctional family. This book is NOT for the faint of heart or stomach. Show Less
LibraryThing member Lanark81
Staggering, dark, direct and at times worryingly hilarious The Wasp Factory is now at this shamefully late stage in my life, firmly set amongst my favourite novels. Whilst of course not for the easily offended or sensitive of demeanour, the unmistakabley genuine voice of Frank has to rank among the
Whilst it has come under constant fire since its publication in the 80's, for its bleak storyline and often graphic violence there is not a gratuitous thought, word or act to be found within this gem of a book. Banks explores the roots of sympathetic magic and primitve religious belief, whilst simultaneously exploring a unique coming of age story, all the while challenging the reader at every turn. In the end, not only deft but entertaining.
At all times neat and absorbing , The Wasp Factory stands as testament to how a great writer can explode into the world with a debut of awe inspiring skill. Hats off!
Show More
most effective examinations of a flawed and self absorbed personality that I've come across in fiction. Whilst it has come under constant fire since its publication in the 80's, for its bleak storyline and often graphic violence there is not a gratuitous thought, word or act to be found within this gem of a book. Banks explores the roots of sympathetic magic and primitve religious belief, whilst simultaneously exploring a unique coming of age story, all the while challenging the reader at every turn. In the end, not only deft but entertaining.
At all times neat and absorbing , The Wasp Factory stands as testament to how a great writer can explode into the world with a debut of awe inspiring skill. Hats off!
Show Less
LibraryThing member richardtaylor
I think "disturbing" sums this up quite well. The only thing I really enjoyed was reaching the end - and I might not have bothered to do that if it had been a longer book. That said, it's not a bad book. It is well written and has some interesting ideas, but all the characters are so unlikeable
Show More
that I kept wondering "why am I reading this?" Show Less
LibraryThing member allsorts
Recently some friends and I played the James Dean game. James Dean premature death could be seen as a good career move. Who else should have died young so people could say: what brilliance! what promise! cruelly snatched away (rather than being sullied by later mediocrity)? We came up with Orson
Show More
Welles and Joseph Heller almost immediately. I said Iain Banks - and they didn't disagree. Nothing in his later work has matched this superb novel. Dark, disturbing and original. (Sorry Iain) Show Less
LibraryThing member miketroll
This is a book that people either love or hate. I love it! It is written as a first person narrative through the eyes of a boy who is (to use the medical jargon) stark, staring mad. It is an extraordinary feat of imagination. As the story progresses, the narrator’s weird perspective on the world
The novel is only flawed for me in its conclusion, where Banks jarringly tries to wrap it up in rational terms with a couple of chapters of cute Freudian analysis. I never found Freud very plausible anyway, so this was all de trop. Fortunately, it all comes at the end, so one can ignore it without losing the powerful impression made by the main narrative.
Show More
becomes increasingly familiar. Finally you wonder whether the men in white coats may be on the way for you too!The novel is only flawed for me in its conclusion, where Banks jarringly tries to wrap it up in rational terms with a couple of chapters of cute Freudian analysis. I never found Freud very plausible anyway, so this was all de trop. Fortunately, it all comes at the end, so one can ignore it without losing the powerful impression made by the main narrative.
Show Less
LibraryThing member brianinbuffalo
It’s rare when I end up loving a book that is branded by so many as weird, macabre and outlandish. In fact, these are descriptions that typically deter me from picking up a book in the first place. I’m glad I wasn’t dissuaded from reading “The Wasp Factory.” Although it certainly lives up
Show More
to its macabre label, it is also a stunning and beautifully told tale that paints vivid portraits of some of the most memorable characters you’re likely to encounter. True, some of the twists in this compelling story require the reader to suspend reality – or at least look at reality through a different prism. But Banks delivers a terrifying and immensely entertaining work. Show Less
LibraryThing member Move_and_Merge
Brilliant and nearly flawless, with the exception of the novel's final moments. In this, his debut, Banks makes the mistake of telling us things he could've shown more artfully, though this is restricted to the denouement.