Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #119523 in Books
• Published on: 2003-07-03
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 436 pages

Customer Reviews

Where's the story ?
I've read all of Iain Bank's works, so I guess I'm a fan, but I found this book disappointing. The main character - as in Complicity - is left-wing, works in the media, takes drugs, is sexually active. Unlike Complicity, there is little or no real story, instead the vast majority of the book is spent listening to the narrator's views on what is wrong - and right - with the world.
Now, I'm a Guardian-reading liberal who would agree with over 80% of the polemic in this book, but listening to the main character's diatribes becomes tiring. I was turning the pages looking for a story, a twist, a revelation, and ultimately I was not rewarded.
Iain, if you read this, I think you are a wonderful writer and I share your viewpoints but please next time bring more of your story-telling arts and capacity for drama and humour to the party, and leave the rants at the state of the world behind.
Finally, why do I appear to be the first person reviewing this book ?

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I have a strange relationship with the books of Iain Banks. Some of them I love, others I really dislike. "The Bridge" is one of my favorite books by any author, and "A song of stone" I couldn't even finish reading.

I was pleasantly surprised to read "Dead Air". I had seen some reviews being rather lukewarm to the book, but I found myself really liking it. The dialogue is as sharp as ever, and the plot twists nicely and keeps you guessing what's going to happen next.

If you like books like "The Bridge", "The Crow Road", "Complicity" and "Whit", my guess is you'll also like this one. I highly recommend it.

Gripping at the end
The plot of this book is actually very tricky to sumarise because for the vast majority of the novel it doesn't actually have one. Instead we are invited to sit back and enjoy the ride as shock-jock DJ Ken Knott freefalls through his life. Actually, it is a reflection the quality of Iain Banks' writing that you imediately do, enjoying yourself every step of the way. He slips in and out of situations and predicaments, often funny, often deadly serious, often both at the same time. It is only in the last two chapters or so (out of ten) that the book suddenly aquires the momentum of an express train, bombing along to a teeth clenching, nerve jangling conclusion that will have you literally unable to tear your eyes away from the book.
The book isn't perfect; it occasionally meanders a little too much and some themes aren't really explored properly, but by the end you won't careone iota. A great book, flawed, but brilliant.