Perhaps this is unkind, but I wonder if he knew about his impending death by the time he was writing this and so decided to throw every random idea or character he'd ever had somewhere into this story just to get it on the page. Little else seems to justify this exercise, and the reveal of how Subliming works is Midichlorian-like in the way it sucks all mystery and aura out of the process. It nevertheless seems strange that the people about to sublime are so...unenlightened. Are they going to be squabbling and scheming like this in the Great Hereafter? RIP Mr. Banks.