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WINNER OF THE AUGUST DERLETH AND ARTHUR C. CLARKE AWARDS • A masterpiece brimming with scientific splendor, magical intrigue, and fierce characters, from the author who “has reshaped modern fantasy” ( The Washington Post ) “[China Miéville’s] fantasy novels, including a trilogy set in and around the magical city-state of New Crobuzon, have the refreshing effect of making Middle-earth seem plodding and flat.”— The New York Times The metropolis of New Crobuzon sprawls at the center of the world. Humans and mutants and arcane races brood in the gloom beneath its chimneys, where the river is sluggish with unnatural effluent and foundries pound into the night. For a thousand years, the Parliament and its brutal militias have ruled over a vast economy of workers and artists, spies and soldiers, magicians, crooks, and junkies. Now a stranger has arrived, with a pocketful of gold and an impossible demand. And something unthinkable is released. The city is gripped by an alien terror. The fate of millions lies with a clutch of renegades. A reckoning is due at the city’s heart, in the vast edifice of brick and wood and steel under the vaults of Perdido Street Station. It is too late to escape.… (more)
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But, more importantly, Miéville is not a one-trick pony, flaunting a flawless grasp of language; he does have something acute to say about life. Perdido isn't about evil versus good or about any single quest, it's about modern society and its workings. It has something to say about the working man's struggle, about freedom of speech, about racial division, about a totalitarian government's rights and responsibilities, about religious following, about ecological repercussions, and whether it is possible to exist in some sort of harmony with other beings when their history and outlook on life is completely different from yours.
Fortunately, despite bringing up important issues, Miéville manages to do very little preaching. This is in essence a fantasy, inhabited by a living landscape, hideous monsters, and the flawed friends who try to make the best of what's been handed to them. There are no easy solutions offered and no perfect ending, pretty much like life itself. I am, as ever, in awe of the imagination that brought it into being.
This is Mieville's first and foremost talent: worldbuilding. Perdido Street Station takes place in the city of New Crobuzon, a filthy, smoggy, industrial urban wasteland where dozens of different species rub shoulders under the shadow of a fascist government. The city itself is explored through the eyes of a large cast of characters: freelance scientists, artists, convicts, journalists, thieves and adventurers, who come across (or are themselves) a variety of wildly different inhuman races, ranging from the wyrmen, small and stupid gargoyle-like creatures that infest the city's rooftops and slums, to the Weaver, a near-omnipotent gigantic spider that lives beneath the city and speaks in a constant poetic babble. And it's not just monsters - there are a lot of strange concepts jockeying for space here, like the anti-reality energy source called "Torque," the city neighbourhood dominated by an enormous, half-buried skeleton, or the primitive artificial intelligence assembling itself from discarded machines in a city dump. Thankfully Mieville manages to keep them all largely believable and consistent, soothing my fears that I was going to end up reading another clusterfuck of a book like The Court of the Air.
It's unfortunate, given the clear passion Mieville has for his creations, that he often stumbles over his own language when writing about them. Vast swathes of each page are given over to some of the most ridiculously ornate prose I've ever seen. Every sentence is saturated in adjectives, and Mieville seems to rack his brains to think of the most obscure nouns in existence:
There was a suddeon burgeoning swell of foreign exudations. The surface tension of the psychosphere ballooned with pressure, and that hideous sense of alien greed oozed through its pores. The psychic plane was thick with the glutinous effluvia of incomprehensible minds.
It's always frustrating when an otherwise talented writer believes that the best way to paint a picture with words is to cram as many complex ones he can possibly think of into a paragraph. It looks amateurish and slows down the pace of the story, and this is already a book suffering from bad pacing. Let me break down the plot for you: a birdman who has lost his wings comes to New Crobuzon to have them regrown with the help of our protagonist, a scientist named Isaac. In the course of his research Isaac enlists the city's underworld to steal a variety of winged creatures for him to study. One of these is a strange grub that eventually creates a chrysalis and emerges as an extremely dangerous moth-like monster that escapes, frees its brothers from a government lab, and proceeds to terrorise the city with them. Isaac and his cohorts must then try to hunt the moths down.
It takes Mievelle literally three hundred pages to get to the point where the moth emerges from its chrysalis. That's two other novels, right there. And those three hundred pages are not particularly enthralling; Mieville regularly spends pages and pages exploring the minds of characters who are neither relevant to the plot nor particularly interesting. Combined with the aforementioned purple prose, this makes Perdido Street Station an appallingly slow read.
Now, once the story does get going - again, you have to wade through three hundred pages of set-up first - it's actually pretty damn good. Mieville combines elements of fantasy, science fiction and horror to create a very unique story, playing off the strengths of each genre and discarding elements that don't work. His characters, for example, are extremely resourceful and intelligent, devoting themselves to learning as much as they can about the creatures they have unleashed - and Mieville does not hesistate in giving them answers when they deserve them, unlike in most horror novels, when the element of fear relies on the unknown. I was happy to overlook some of the typical problems found in speculative fiction (stilted dialogue, overly rational characters, in-depth explanation of emotions as though they're some kind of bizarre phenomenon) because Mieville was telling an entertaining monster-hunt in an original way in a brilliant fictional city.
Perdido Street Station is, overall, a good book - just not good enough to justify 867 pages and four weeks of my life. I'll certainly read The Scar, but I hope that after his first novel Mieville threw away his thesuarus and got a better editor.
This is a book thick with an atmosphere so vividly drawn that you can smell the slums and rivers and feel the thick dream-gloom settle over you. In some ways, this book's greatest triumph is its ability to create the story
Meiville's world-building is astounding, with cultures and races and history and geography and a hundred other tiny details weaving together into a gorgeous tapestry that is hard not to admire. His mind must be a wonderful place to be.
His monsters are top-notch and terrifying, his characters mostly engaging and complex, his city fantastic.
Peridido Street Station does have its faults.
His plot is a little weaker. It takes quite a long time to get going at all, and once we get there the pacing seems weak. I'm pleased that he's able to tie seemingly unconnected bits from the first half of the book back in, but it would have been better for the first half of the book to not seem unconnected at all. Some of the problem-solving that goes on feels a little too easy and coincidental given what we've seen his monsters to to others, and the government feels a little too incompetent given how easy some of the problem-solving is. That said, I spent the final few chapters racing to see what happened, with my heart beating in my throat.
Meiville is dense, and although I enjoyed it, his book was slow going for me. It was one of those books that I enjoyed while I was reading it - I liked being in New Crobuzon - but it had little draw when I wasn't. Save for the last few chapters, I had no need to know what happened next, and so this book only got read on lunch breaks.
He also has an obsession with the disgusting and the filthy. As I mentioned earlier, this works for me sometimes - his slums are vivid and interesting. But he's so attached to the concept that 'shit' or 'shat' become descriptors in nearly every chapter of the book, and something that was clever the first time becomes a distracting sign of 'look how revolting I can be!'
This is a book that should absolutely be read by anyone who's a fan of genre fiction - steampunk, sci fi, fantasy - simply because it /is/ so baffling and bizarre. And wonderful. It's problems are there, but Meiville does something here that few other authors do, and it's worth it to immerse yourself in his world just to experience it.
The plot line of this books careens through a heavily layered world. You feel like perhaps Mieville is showing off his particular dark and detailed view of example of socio-enconomic impact of industrialization on a magic based multi-cultral city state. I wondered if this is all there is to the book. Is it just a massively detailed world built to show of the talents of the author? I was happy to discover, when the book final winds down into its last few pages, a message, a moral even.
If you are tired of every fantasy book being about a young boy/girl/rabbit's heroic struggle to save the world from the old and evil wizard/Demon/witch/dog, pick up this book. You never regret reading about a cranky engineer's struggle to return a bird man's ability to fly, while fighting his insect artist girl friend's demon drug pushing patron in the Bas-lag city state plagued by soul devouring butterflies. With stops along the way in cactus men's terrarium city within a city, a junkyard magic cult's artificial intelligence, the aesthetic of art, architecture and urban renewal. If there isn't something in this book for you to like, you just haven't been paying attention.
The story revolves around a male human, Isaac Dan der Grimnebulin, an eccentric scientist and his artist girlfriend, Lin, who is a bug-like creature known as a Khepri. It’s not surprising that Mieville has created this wondrous couple, but what is surprising is how fully fleshed out these characters and many others in the book are. But always remember that in Perdido Street Station the strange and repulsive, the sickening and dangerous are often lurking, just around the corner. Is this book a romance? A thriller? Or is it a highly charged, emotional tragedy.
At times Perdido Street Station was a difficult read with it’s dense and complicated prose studded with strange languages and scientific terms. But at the same time, this was also part of the lure of this book. This was my first China Mieville book, but I can assure you that it won’t be long before I pick this author up again.
Perdido Street Station is bizarre, inventive, and fascinating. The streets of New Crobuzon twist and turn with characters from all walks of life, from humans to bug-people to sentient cacti. Old, tired fantasy archetypes have no place in this book. Mieville’s imagination is sweeping in its scope but it extends not only to the big gears of his world, but also to the small, everyday details. There is a fresh, alien quality to New Crobuzon that I haven’t seen in an imaginary world for a long time. Mieville is a smart, versatile writer. He combines a good story with dabblings in philosophy, politics, computer technology, mathematics, and aesthetics. If there’s one thing that might turn people off Perdido Street Station, it’s that the language can be very dense at parts and in the first part of the book, very little happens. But I found that personally, even while I noticed these things, I didn’t mind them much.
SPOILERS, LOTS OF THEM
1) Too much description of place in the
2) I read lots of fantasy and I'm more than willing to suspend disbelief, but I had trouble with this one. It's cheating, and not very imaginative, to create races by just mixing humans with other species. Human/bird or human/frog or human/cactus(!) The most ridiculous example is a human female body with, apparently, an entire scarab beetle for a head. Give me a break!
3) Plot had some serious problems. Would Isaac really buy that "Lin is already dead" argument? It was 50/50 at best. If he really loved her he would have gone after her.
4) They just happen to witness the moth laying eggs.
5) Any idiot would have killed the big scary monster and THEN dealt with its cache of eggs. Please.
6) You spend weeks working beside someone who personally saved the life of your girlfriend and you don't even bother to TALK to them when you find out something you have spent months avoiding knowing?
7) The handlingers can fly. Huh?
8) The crisis engine is supposed to accomplish "anything." Why don't you use it to fix your girlfriend?
9) My favorite: they lay miles & miles of scrounged up cable in about 45 minutes and the system boots up and works perfectly the very first time!!! hahahahahaha That's the most fantastic thing in the whole book!
10) Deux ex machina spider wasn't enough, he had to come up with another one for the final scene. Je.Sus.
While this looks like a lot of issues, I did actually enjoy reading this book a lot. The prose is nice most of the time and there's lots of fascinating ideas. Some of them just don't pan out. I think there was so much fantastic detail that many people have just overlooked the stupid plot, and that's fine if it works for you. It wasn't quite enough for me.
Isaac is an
Slake-moths are flying, nocturnal creatures, whose wings show an ever-changing color pattern, hypnotizing anyone instantly. This gives the slake-moth the chance to feed on a person’s thoughts, feelings and fears, leaving them in a permanent vegetative state. The Ambassador from Hell is asked to help in stopping the moths (there are now 5 of them terrorizing the city) and declines. The Weaver, a giant spider that can easily move between dimensions and has a liking for scissors, joins the hunt. How does one stop, or even slow down, creatures who can hypnotize anyone instantly?
This is a great steampunk novel. Put Charles Dickens, Franz Kafka and Neal Stephenson together in a blender, add a dash of Neal Gaiman and H.P. Lovecraft, and this is the result. It’s a long novel, about 700 pages, and the body count gets rather high by the end, but this novel is very much recommended.
There are several things that keep me from finding Perdido impressive without comparison to the genre at large, however. The setting is likely the highpoint to the book for many people, and it certainly is impressive, giving us a city with a plethora of differing neighborhoods, most of which with a distinctive and memorable flavor, populated by a menagerie of creatures. Unfortunately it never felt like a cohesive location to me because of Mieville's tendency to throw in new aspects of the world without any warning, even late into the story. The book starts by setting out the various "common" types of inhabitants of the city, but as the story goes on Mieville drops in demons, then weavers, then sentient robots, handlingers, undine, and more. The handlingers are the most extreme and problematic example of this- while the book tells us there have been rumors about their existence, it only tells us that after they've already been introduced. Thus instead of foreshadowing their eventual appearance they come out of the blue. Then they appear for a few chapters before being dispatched and not mentioned again for the rest of the story. It's a strange episode that doesn't feel integrated with the rest of the book, or even purposeful besides giving us one more action sequence and emphasizing the danger of an enemy we already knew was dangerous from a dozen previous examples. I'd guess that this was a symptom of Perdido being one of Mieville's first books, with him still getting comfortable with a longer medium instead of a short story.
Another problem I had with the book is the dialogue. As I already mentioned, Mieville is able to get at emotions better than most fantasy authors, but that's more thanks to his ability to put characters into realistic relationships and naturally tense situations and less to do with him being able to capture a realistic conversation. The main character Isaac, for instance, is presented as a brilliant scientist and proves himself to be one, but when he's talking to other characters he always sounds like more of a con-man than someone who actually knows what he's talking about. Having read later Mieville like Kraken, I can unfortunately say that the weak dialogue wasn't just due to Perdido being one of his first longer works of fiction.
Originally I also had a problem with how so much of the story relied on coincidence, as that's usually a sign of weak storytelling in my book, but
My other complaints are minor. The book was longer than it had to be, mostly due to the unnecessary episodes I've already mentioned, and so it could have been tighter. One of the main antagonists disappears from the story for maybe two hundred pages, to the point where you wonder if he's even important anymore. Crisis energy is a deus ex machina and far too much time is spent on Isaac talking about fake science. The title isn't very good. These complaints aren't that important. Nevertheless, they contribute to the reason why at the end of the day I only consider the book pretty good, and not any better than that. Again, if you like the genre, then definitely check it out.
For all that it's over the top, and has few too many balls for Mieville to keep in the air, it's still a worthwhile read. Characters have to make very hard decisions, and live with the consequences. Something new is always happening. The locale is not quite like any you've seen before, unless you've read the The Scar.
Recommended, as long as horror is OK by you.
One of the things that's so wonderful about this book is that it defies attempts to declare it as belonging to a particular genre; it has elements of science fiction, fantasy, steampunk, crime fiction, dystopia, and horror. And that's just to name a few.
Miéville's prose is another element that I find absolutely superb about this novel. The phrasing, and particularly his choice of word, is extraordinarily well done and particularly evocative. Some readers might find his writing heavy-handed, but I happen to enjoy descriptive writing. His descriptions of New Crobuzon (the rather nasty city in which the story takes place) are so vivid that they honestly make my skin crawl. He creates a gritty, realistic atmosphere and runs with it. I know for a fact this is a place I never, want to visit. Ever.
The world he conceives is extraordinary, complex, and not at all a nice place. The novel swept me along, adding creative element upon creative element. A somewhat lengthy book with a winding plot-line, he builds up to what should be a fantastic ending, but it unfortunately falls flat and I was rather disappointed, especially after what was such a fantastic read.
Experiments in Reading
Isaac Grimnebulin is not your typical scientist, dealing with unorthodox, sometimes illegal experiments that others would claim was borderline science. His newest commission becomes an obsession of
How do you definite a book that refuses to adhere to any labels? Perdido Street Station is a fascinating mixture of both fantasy and science fiction. Like a surreal dream, the world building is impressive to say the least, filled with creatures and species of various kinds, making New Crobuzon a melting pot of life and death, existing side by side. The characters, both main and supporting are completely strange and foreign and yet familiar at the same time, demonstrating the roles and structures of a society filled with its own customs and traditions. It takes patience to fully immerse yourself in this dark, gritty, queer, and completely off the beaten track world, but once you are in, it does not let you go. Mieville displays with a flourish his ability to take command of the written word and presents to the readers a story that is beyond definition, filled with inhuman monsters and creations, yet in the end telling a very human story. Highly recommended.
The basic plot and world building is excellent Issac is a scientist in a twisted world, a distorted mirror of what ours may have been once before some
However the downside is the prose. This is written in a slow overly wordy literary style that is just dull and hard work to read. 800 pages are a struggle, this prose makes them much much harder. I ended up skimming swathes of text without losing any plot points or the overall grasp of the magnificent city. The characters are also, despite all the words, thin. Issac gets some attention, mainly paragraphs of drifting verbiage, all the others are thin constructs. This is acceptable for the robots, but the aliens require far more crafting to make them believable.
The second problem with this tome is that it is often unnecessarily dark. There are dark themes, but there is frequently gratuitous dwelling on the specific acts and descriptions which again are better skipped through.
All in all it is a fascinating work imbued with stunning imagination, but it really needs a much heavier hand on the editing.
I won't be re-reading this for some time.
His evocation of the city is so overwhelming and powerful that you can feel that you know this place. It is seedy, run down and dangerous. It stinks, it is decrepit and corrupt and yet it is intriguing and
The story going on here is one of fiction, parable and love. It is a formidable piece of work that either you will cope with or not, it will not be the fiction that fails. It may not be for everyone either. If he used different races instead of species it would have subtly changed the essence and made it maybe too recognisable, too near to home. One species killing another may be palatable but one race killing another not so. Empathy changes when we cross that barrier. And yet, at the same time, the main female character is so sexy and desirable even though she is not human.
At one point I wondered if this was science fiction or fantasy or dystopian, or maybe all of these but by then it didn't matter one iota. By that time I could already see the characters and knew them well. The advantage of stories constructed like this is that ideas can be introduced that would flounder in other forms of fiction and the total difference from our "normal" is a more effective mirror than realistic fiction.
I loved it and devoured it steadily.
At around 640 pages it is big enough to get your teeth into, go on treat yourself.
The themes are also classic – the potential but also the risks of advancing technology, the battle of good v. evil, bravery and loyalty, but also betrayal (once or twice I thought I had strayed into a George R.R. Martin book!). Yet there were also two themes which I see as more modern (and, I think, perhaps primarily urban) – the connectivity of everything, physically and psychically, and the increasing need and ability of humans to utilize this, and the way in which different cultures share space and time, specifically crowded cities, interacting yet not really integrating, with some shared values yet very alien to each other in other ways.
The characters, of course, are not classic ones. Mieville has created a range of species, some more human-like and some less, and he uses their different characteristics to support the story in some unique ways. Isaac is a great character, as is Yag, his client, and there are many other interesting characters, some of which drive the main plot and others of which are more minor. The city itself is also a key character, and the descriptions of various buildings and parts of town are some of the most enjoyable sections of the book. And I love that there is a map at the front. Occasionally, though, Mieville just gets carried away with his love for his creations, and there are various sidetracks and subplots and even quite major characters which I felt didn’t enhance the story in any way and just made me feel the book was too long.
On balance, I am giving this book 4 stars, because the story is great, there are some excellent characters, and the writing is very good most of the time, but it is too long, and some of it is too self-indulgent. Having said that, I will certainly be reading more of Mieville’s books next year.
Like I said - fascinating stuff. And the worldbuilding in the novel is really worth the price of admission. But somehow... it loses momentum towards the end. Plot threads are carefully established and then quietly dropped; character arcs, similarly. The prose loses momentum, too - amateurish stuff like the use of the same adjective twice in two sentences, and there's a point where I seriously considered putting the book down if he used the word "faecal" one more time - and the end when it comes is a bit unsatisfying.
But that said, it's worth the price of admission for the worldbuilding. I may read his others and see what I think of those before passing judgement.
I'm not quite sure what I expected, but this wasn't exactly
What a wonderful book. Mieville has demonstrated again what a great storyteller he is, his vivid and imaginative
step into the vastness of New Crobuzon, this towering edifice of architecture and history, this complexitude of money and slum, this profane steam-powered god."
My fave character in this book was Yagharek the garuda. Punished for a despicable crime, by taking away his ability to fly. He comes to New Crobuzon to find someone who can help him to gain the ability of flight again. To observe his journey from a quiet and ashamed creature, obsessed only with his own predicament and then to turn into a friend and a hero - and in the end to turn into something completely new. Even so that his crime was horrible, I felt for this creature throughout the whole story. I especially liked the ending as it sort of was unexpected, but very fitting.
"I turn and walk into the city my home, not bird or garuda, not miserable crossbreed.
I turn and walk into my home, the city, a man.”
Highly recommended to anyone, who enjoys Mieville's complicated, but imaginative writing and who doesn't mind grabbing a dictionary at times for clarification of words.
Halfway through though something bad happens, and it gets worse. Then it gets terrible; and then even worse. I think it is a fine and wonderful thing to put your characters through some fresh hell but slowly the narrative flow started to change. For whole chapters there was no dialogue. We were told what was going on rather then shown. I was still enjoying myself but it took me outside the book a bit. I’d love to read some of Miéville’s later works to see if he has avoided being written into a corner like this. Another fold in the soft, vulnerable underbelly of this novel is the inclusion of TWO otherworldly deus ex machina characters who are vital to concluding the finale. While this sort of thing happens in science fiction, fantasy and horror stories (Perdido Street Station is a bit of all three); all the time I suppose it is mildly acceptable yet a tad glaring.
It seems as if an important plot element from the start of the book is forgotten, but it comes back quite spectacularly in the finale. There is an epic monster-hunting standoff then only slight reprieve as the antiheroes go underground fearing for their lives wanted dead by both the police state apparatchicks and the powerful criminal underworld at-the-same-time. The story ends in a gut punch of a reveal. Very nice.
Perdido Street Station is like a photography exhibit of some alien ghetto. It is horrid and beautiful. It is lush and repellant. I don’t’ think this is a novel for everyone but certainly for fans of the macabre. It seems like a sophomore effort but with considerable potential to thrill.
You will never look at a certain night-flying insect the same way.
like most of China's work, we're given a plate steaming with elements of fantasy, Magic Realism, dystopian society, sci-fi, horror, and fascism. most deliciously, all of this is combined with rogue physics gone awry. PERFECT for us nerds who also appreciate a fine literary endeavor, that's still full of guilty pleasures like shoot-outs with government agents, psychics, running in the sewer from bad guys (c'mon... it's the best literary device in the world!), high romance with insect-people, egotistical Garudas, and clumsy electronic devices that allow you to speak with Satan.
read it.