"I had been making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped."

So begins Iain Banks's remarkable The Wasp Factory. The action of the book occurs entirely in one small island and a neighboring town, but while the setting may be prosaic, the main character is not. Frank is a strange, sadistic, messed-up kid ("the Sacrifice Poles" are not metaphorical items) but, by telling the story through Frank's point of view, Banks lets us understand what inspires Frank, what frightens him, what moves him. It is remarkable how plausible Frank seems, even though his external actions are repugnant and his inner motivations are alien (far more alien than the "real" aliens of Banks's sci-fi novels). Indeed, the joy of reading this book lies in gradually gaining sympathy for a young man who has already murdered three family members and who tortures wasps in order to predict the future.

The action, despite its paucity, isn't half bad either.

Be forewarned, gentle reader: the book is extremely and dispassionately violent. Fortunately, Frank does not revel in death (for the most part); instead, he sees it merely as a natural phase of life, or, at best, a tool he can use in his own quasi-religious rituals. The book is disturbing less for its graphic descriptions than for its ability to make you care, just a little bit, for a sociopath

Copyright © 2001 Steven Wu