Cloak of calm

Clarity" is the first word-sentence in Iain Banks's newest novel, Stonemouth. And clarity of thought processes and of storytelling is what he provides throughout the wonderful book. Our protagonist Stewart Gilmour — Stu to both who like and dislike him — is the narrator of the tale. He is 25, and has been made junior partner in a firm that has made a lot of money lighting up skyscrapers, especially in China. Settled in London after being driven away from dreary Stonemouth due to past events that are at the centre of the tale, we first find him trying to make a negotiated return after being away for five years. The occasion is a funeral.

Stonemouth, in northern Scotland, is run by two crime families — the Murstons and the MacAvetts. Between them, they keep the peace in the town, thereby aiding the police in doing their jobs. And herein lies the realism, the believability of Banks's book.

Stonemouth is a gangster town like most gangster towns actually are. There are no gangland killings, no brandishing of weapons, no kidnappings for ransom. Nothing too dramatic. Just the dominant clans quietly going about their "business", and the townspeople knowing what lines not to cross. Except, of course, Stewart.

It is the Murstons — the father, four sons, two daughters — that are the cause of his present predicament. They are the reason why, five years ago, he had to run for his life. It is not until late in the novel that we find out what exactly Stewart has done to warrant the Murston ban. But at the beginning of the book, a temporary reprieve has been granted to enable him to attend the funeral of the Murston family patriarch, Grandpa Joe.

We find Stewart near a bridge, which has seen more than its share of "suicides", confirming with a Murston enforcer if it is really OK to come back. Thoughts of the impossibly beautiful Ellie Murston, the love of Stewart's life and the reason he is still alive, overwhelm him.

He goes to pay his respects to Donald Murston — aptly called Don — but the meeting doesn't go as planned. Nor does he win over the three remaining Murston brothers (his old schoolmate Callum Murston having jumped over the bridge). Did the MacAvett angle to the novel's central indiscretion contribute to the gravity of Stewart's situation?

The narrator soon discovers that only he is taking the truce really seriously. He delves into his past, and that of others around him, only to uncover darker secrets. He contemplates suicide.

Banks's characters are memorable; he spends considerable effort developing them. And much of the novel's appeal lies in Stewart's memories of the town, where time seems to have stood still. "This is so much like the old days," he reminisces. "And I have mixed feelings, frankly. In some ways it is good and comfortable to be fitting straight back in like I've never been away but, on the other hand, I'm getting this constrictive feeling as well. It's the same places … the same people, the same conversations, the same arguments and the same attitudes. Five years away and not much seems to have changed. I can't decide if this is good or bad."

It is a classic Bildungsroman, a fiction genre concerned with the education and future development of the protagonist — a coming-of-age story.

StonemouthBy Iain Banks, Little, Brown, 356 pages, £13.99