Another chronicle of Culture fuckups; this time, trying to reform a caste system and sparking a genocidal civil war. It's tense and unpleasant throughout, because of this moral mud. 'You want to die because your mate is dead and you are pining for her, is that not the truth?' 'I would put it a little stronger than pining. But it was her death that took the meaning out of my life.' 'The lives of your family and your society in this time of need and restructuring; these mean nothing to you?' 'Not nothing, Estodien. But not enough, either. I wish that I could feel otherwise, but I cannot. It is as though all the people I care about but feel I ought to care about more are already in another world from the one I inhabit.' 'She was just... a person, just one individual. What makes her so special that her memory... outranks the more pressing needs of those still alive for whom something can still be done?' 'Nothing, Estodien. It is-' 'Nothing indeed. It is not her memory; it is yours. It is not her specialness or uniqueness that you celebrate, Quilan, but your own. You are a romantic, Quilan. You find the idea of tragic death romantic, you find the idea of joining her - even if it is joining her in oblivion - romantic.' The old male drew himself up as though getting ready to go. 'I hate romantics, Quilan. They do not really know themselves, but what is worse they do not really want to know themselves - or, ultimately, anybody else - because they think that will take the mystery out of life. They are fools. You are a fool.'

One of the slower books in the Culture series, but man does it pack a big emotional punch. I'd put this up there with Use of Weapons for Culture books that are well worth the read.

I just couldn't get into this one like I did the other culture books. Interesting premise, but just too damn slow.