Use of Weapons (Culture)

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Banks is a master of narrative structure and character complexity, and Use of Weapons is a prime example of both. It reads like a psychological thriller disguised as space opera. I found myself riveted not only by the tension and action, but by the slow, almost surgical unpacking of a man who is trying, and failing, to outrun his past. The novel unfolds in two timelines, each circling the same man, a mercenary named Zakalwe, whose talents for strategy and improvisation are put to use again and again by the Culture. One timeline traces his latest mission, a task that seems both urgent and strangely elusive, while the other winds backward through previous assignments and moments of personal history. Together, these two threads form a narrative architecture that feels at first like a puzzle box, but eventually reveals something closer to a trapdoor. Banks doesn’t simply tell a story. He constructs it in such a way that we experience its consequences before we understand their causes. This isn’t a conventional character arc. Zakalwe isn’t built up to be understood or forgiven. He is fragmented, contradictory, and often opaque. But what makes the novel so compelling is how deftly it inhabits the interior spaces of someone who is not just hiding from others, but from himself. The book raises difficult questions about memory, guilt, and the stories we choose to tell ourselves—questions that linger long after the plot has resolved. Banks doesn’t moralize or lecture. He simply invites us to sit with the discomfort and draw our own conclusions. That he does so with such control and restraint makes it all the more powerful. What elevates Use of Weapons beyond a tale of war and regret is the context in which it unfolds: the Culture, that galaxy-spanning utopia of infinite resources and good intentions. Banks gives us a protagonist caught in the crosshairs of his own haunted past, but he also positions that personal torment within a larger moral question. The Culture claims to intervene only when necessary, always with noble goals, but they are willing to use people like Zakalwe as blunt instruments. And when the weapon breaks, they simply pick up another. That cool, distant utilitarianism stands in contrast to the searing humanity at the heart of Zakalwe’s story. It’s unsettling in the best way. Clever, harrowing, and structurally brilliant, Use of Weapons earns every bit of its reputation. And for me, a full five stars.

DNF @ 32%

The order of the chapters is a total disaster especially if you're a little OCD. The idea is that there are two timelines. The future one is in order, and the past one is progressing backwards. I got so frustrated with the whole order that about halfway through, I decided to read it "chronologically" but it still wasn't really in order. And there were some parts that still didn't make a ton of sense. But I liked reading about the characters and there's an interesting (disturbing) ending.