R.I.P. Iain Banks

June 9, 2013 § Leave a comment

I shrugged. ‘Out. Walking and things.’

‘Building dams again?’ he sneered.

‘No,’ I said, shaking my head confidently and biting the apple. ‘Not today.’

‘I hope you weren’t out killing any of God’s creatures.’

I shrugged at him again. Of course I was out killing things. How the hell am I supposed to get heads and bodies for the Poles and the Bunker if I don’t kill things? There just aren’t enough natural deaths. You can’t explain that sort of thing to people, though.

–from The Wasp Factory (1984)

Iain Banks succumbs to gall bladder cancer at 59. More beloved across the pond than here, I think, but any writer who understands that children are cruel and unmerciful savages deserves a legacy.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading R.I.P. Iain Banks at Neil Serven.

meta

%d bloggers like this: