I discovered The Wasp Factory in the early 1990s and was stunned by its original story and dark humour. I’d not read anything like it before and haven’t since. It wielded that raw energy of a first novel but at the same time was confident and accomplished, carving a tricky line between gritty reality and surreal comedy. It gave me a sense of unease over whether I was immersed in truth or fantasy, while at the same time knowing I was being guided by a masterly storyteller… most of all this book floored me with its astounding twists – that feeling of not having seen something that was there all along has never left me

A gothic horror story of quite exceptional quality… macabre, bizarre and… quite impossible to put down. There is a control and assurance in the book, an originality rare in established writers twice the author’s age. This is an outstandingly good read

Iain Banks has written one of the most brilliant first novels I have come across for some time. His study of an obsessive personality is extraordinary, written with a clarity and attention to detail that is most impressive. One can only admire a truly remarkable novel

If you are squeamish or easily frightened, then leave The Wasp Factory severely alone. The novel is saved from sheer beastliness by its black humour and its message. Read it if you dare

If a nastier, more vicious or distasteful novel appears this spring, I shall be surprised. But there is unlikely to be a better one either. You can hardly breathe for fear of missing a symbol, or a fine phrase, or a horror so chilling that your hair stands on end. Infinitely painful to read, grotesque but human, these pages have a total reality rare in fiction. A mighty imagination has arrived on the scene

One of the top 100 novels of the century

A brilliant book, barmy and barnacled with the grotesque

Brilliant… irresistible… compelling

A first novel of such curdling power and originality that whether you like it or not – and you may hate it – the arrival of its author Iain Banks must mark the literary debut of the year. It’s astonishing, unsettling and brilliantly written

A first novel not only of tremendous promise, but also of achievement, a minor masterpiece, perhaps. There is no label. It is an obsessive novel, a bad dream of a book. Death and blood and gore fill the pages, lightened only by the dark humour, the surreal touches, and the poetry of the thing. There is something foreign and nasty here, an amazing new talent

There is no denying the bizarre fertility of the author’s imagination: his brilliant dialogue, his cruel humour, his repellent inventiveness. The majority of the literate public, however, will be relieved that only reviewers are obliged to look at any of it

As a piece of writing, The Wasp Factory soars to the level of mediocrity. Maybe the crassly explicit language, the obscenity of the plot, were thought to strike an agreeably avant-garde note. Perhaps it is all a joke, meant to fool literary London into respect for rubbish