After reading the last page, I wonder, however, seriously how to come to the absurd idea that garbage of unmanageable ideas and endless descriptions of feces, body fluids and eternally recurring depressive slums wrest something good. Find this book in style people have determined the wings demolished as children insects relish slowly and then the misery to delight in this. Or go for a walk in the recreation sewer.
The story begins, although somewhat interesting as the unsympathetic semi-criminal scientist Isaac by a mysterious bird man the wings were removed, the job gets him with the help of science, enabling again the fly.
Psychedelic drugs outgoing vampire moths (!!!) which arises solely from the negligence, or more simply the stupidity unfortunately extremely one-dimensional characters become until then: In the course of the book but then the whole despicable world, threatening crisis developed in order. The rest of the comprehensive 600-page novel follows the patient reader then a bunch of limited characters in an attempt to kill the terror-spreading killer moths might come as well from the morning session of a poorer private broadcaster in its amateurism and ridicule. The ultimately successful strategy has then after countless pesky failed attempts while back a certain appeal but the resulting casualties and idioms are basically at any time simply unnecessary.
It has not helped me the China Mieville has every alley of the decaying city spatially deallocated and named and the repeated rubbing the annoyed reader on almost every page endlessly under his nose. The story could just as well (bad) can be told in half the pages.
I have read this book, unfortunately, until the end because I was still always hoping that happens something really groundbreaking what the screwed-up story could tear over sadists and Unsympathen. What is then, however, actually provided the end is simply an impertinence, and performs the action anyway totally stupid in the absolute unnsinigkeit.
I have the feeling that the author acted according to the principle is always to use the worst and beknacktesten progress of all to tell his story.
After the last page, I have slowly and gleefully ripped the book into its component parts and feel after my table is now riddled with the crumpled remains of this concoction really better!
