On Perdido Street Station

Miéville’s creativity is insane. It’s as if he took the Dungeons and Dragons manual, dropped it into a steampunk dystopia, shook it up, and looked at the result through Marxist eyes. The world here is something else. The pacing, on the other hand, gave me trouble: the first act is slow as a snail, the second moves at lightning speed, and the third gradually hits the brakes. There’s some truth to the idea that Miéville is bad at endings, but there’s an alternative reading too — that endings just aren’t very important to him. The story stands well on its own without being tied up; it only makes it hard to draw any conclusions. The interstitial sections from Yagharek’s perspective, set between the parts, contain some of the most beautiful writing in the book, and the Weaver is such a memorable character. I love it so much.