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Iain Banks

Walking on Glass

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Graham Park is in love. But Sara Ffitch is an enigma to him, a creature of almost perverse mystery. Steven Grout is paranoid — and with justice. He knows that They are out to get him. They are. Quiss, insecure in his fabulous if ramshackle castle, is forced to play interminable impossible games. The solution to the oldest of all paradoxical riddles will release him. But he must find an answer before he knows the question.

Park, Grout, Quiss — no trio could be further apart. But their separate courses are set for collision…

«A feast of horrors, variously spiced with incest, conspiracy, and cheerful descriptions of torture… fine writing» The Times

«The author’s powerful imagination is displayed again here every bit as vividly as in his debut» Financial Times

«Establishes beyond doubt that lain Banks is a novelist of remarkable talents» Daily Telegraph
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306 printed pages
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Impressions

  • b9213506742shared an impression4 years ago
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    🎯Worthwhile
    🚀Unputdownable

  • Alexandra Serebryakovashared an impression6 years ago
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    💡Learnt A Lot
    🎯Worthwhile
    🚀Unputdownable
    💧Soppy

Quotes

  • Alexandra Serebryakovahas quoted6 years ago
    It swelled in him then, like some wildfire cancer; a rapid disgust, a total allergy syndrome directed at everything around him; at the filthy, eviscerated mundanity of it all, the sheer crawling awful-ness of existence; all the lies and the pain, the legalized murder, the privileged theft, the genocides and the hatreds and the stupefying human cruelties, all the starveling beauty of the burgeoning poor and the crippled in body and brain, all the life-defying squalor of the cities and the camps, all the sweltering frenetics of the creeds and the faiths, all the torturingly ingenious, carefully civilised savagery of the technology of pain and the economies of greed; all the hollow, ringing, bullshitting words used to justify and explain the utter howling grief of our own cruelty and stupidity; it piled on him, in him, like a weight of atmosphere, that awful mass of air above for those moments no longer balanced by a pressure within, so that he felt at once crushed, smashed inside, but swollen too; bursting with the sickening burden of a cheap and tumid revelation.
  • Alexandra Serebryakovahas quoted6 years ago
    "Q: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? A: The unstoppable force stops, the immovable object moves."
  • Alexandra Serebryakovahas quoted6 years ago
    "Have fun, be nice, veer left, and never stop thinking, is what it boils down to,"

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