Underdog fantasy at its finest

This book is not for everyone. It is a very unconventional novel that accesses unconventional stylistic devices and deals with unconventional characters. The world in which these plays Fantasy, is not thriving, harmonious pseudo medieval surrounded by green hills and forests Elves, there is a swampy, dirty, withered, neglected city in the middle of a desolate, hostile continent. Everything seems to work, however, that there is life.

"Perdido Street Station" is a story of bitter charm that certainly does not open up to anyone. But for me, does exactly that from its appeal.

The plot can be summed up hard, without breaking away too much. It is also questionable whether the focus of the story really is on this action - rather than on the development that goes through every single character by fighting with all his strength fails, and up again a decision summarizes. , Often hardly comprehensible moralities and ideologies meet instead on the brain sensuality this very complex world in which so many different and for people. Instead of the wild, enigmatic beauty that New Crobuzon, the place of action, surrounding a. Instead of philosophical questions posed by a book - or to make a reading itself. Perhaps every reader has to find its focus for themselves.
This is not to say that the act would be of no interest, not. It is written at a rapid, but not hasty ahead hurrying pace, sits on each side - hell, maybe even in each paragraph - continues and has everything you could ever want in the plot of a fantasy novel: there are intrigues, suspense, action, danger, misunderstandings, magic, sheer horror and even a love story. Constantly on doing new, unexpected turns, Mr. Miéville exploits the possibilities of New Weird subgenre from full.

The prose is simply enchanting. Not Zuckerfeen Unicorn Rainbow enchanting, on the contrary. Nothing is concealed, nothing is glossed over, you stare at the page and everything is horrible, but these braids of words that together writhe to ornate patterns, are beautiful to look the other way can, however much all moldy, smelly, in misery sinks. It's like watching how a baby is still alive dissected. One can not look the other way, so terrible it may be. China Miéville is the one who slitting this baby. And he sings. It's disgusting - but, heavens, it's beautiful! This prose does not please everyone. She's wild, cramped, complex like a spider web. I am told that even had speakers up in the dictionary one or the other word. There is no real pink prose; Although it is peppered with lots of descriptive adjectives, interjections, descriptions that are lost in themselves and rip the reader, but it is not cheesy, nothing seems unnecessary. It's like New Crobuzon built this way from words: All these "ugliness" Bordet so much that she buries the reader under and effortlessly brings to the stage the characters.

The World Building is one of Mr. Miévilles great strengths. New Crobuzon is one festering, rotting mass, in which the people (and Cactacae, Khepri, Vodyanoi ...) live like maggots in the garbage, dominated by the titulären Perdido Street Station. All this - the entire set up of human or at least sentient, thinking hand monstrosity of a city - collapses under its own weight. The atmosphere is oppressed, desperate, resigned. No one is trying to make this dirty hole better place all is clear that it is impossible and most have between poverty, corruption, violence, racism, drug traffic and the loss of their own integrity probably no longer the energy, to raise his fist to the sky, no more than to curse the gods to which they might once believed.
But New Crobuzon lives. New Crobuzon as setting has more character, seems to breathe and speak more than some protagonists of a less well-written novel. This city, which is made apparent from nightmares, which unites all the sins of big cities in densely crowded room in itself, vibrates, pulsates, is revealed to the reader, and explained to him. It's loud and scary and sometimes one wishes that they would only be half as fascinating because it shows a so many things that do not want to see you. But in the end I do not regret anything - absolutely nothing!

The characters are wonderful. None of them is a hero in real sense, none of them is someone who wants to be one, perhaps not even someone you want to know. Since it is all the more astonishing that one mitfiebert a reader, because you want to find out at all costs, as it continues with Isaac, the thick, not quite legally working scientists with perverse inclinations, with his girlfriend Lin, an embittered artist, on their humanoid body instead of a human head, a giant scarab seated, with Yagharek, the anthropomorphic bird, which has cut off the wings and talks like an old book, with Derkhan, the middle-aged, militant left lesbian. They are all so incredibly ... human. Their stories go under your skin, because they are people you could meet in the pedestrian zone. (That being said, that two of them are not human beings, of course.)
Ever, Yagharek. He is perhaps the most important, the definitive key character in the novel. Some sections are written from his first-person perspective, ornate, poetic and sad. Yagharek is, in my opinion, the most sympathetic character of the entire novel, the one that you like can most easily, which makes the reason for the loss of his wings all the more frightening. Nothing is revealed now, of course, although many readers will probably pull out its allusions a grim foreboding.
Even Lin is a character I could have quickly liked. The story of her unhappy childhood does not work due to the Un-humanity, the sheer otherness of their culture initially very easy to see through, but actually it takes up issues that may play an equally large and terrifying role nowadays in this culture. And hurray for artists-characters, which are also authentic represented as such! Generally, it is wonderful that Mr. Miéville "humanizes" the views and ideas of non-human races nor as excessively opaque represents. The theme of anthropocentrism is directly addressed: Lin noted that she does not find that Khepri as people with beetles look like heads - she finds that people like Khepri look with their heads shaved apes.

And then everything goes to hell (not to be taken literally: It is so explosive that it makes even the fear of hell) and the few characters who do not die, suffer fates, which death would be preferable.

What happened, how and why it happens, is of course not reveal. Said was just that it all started with the fact that the government of New Crobuzon has embarked with a drug lord (here and at several other places you recognize good Miévilles strong socialist inclinations, but it must be said that these tendencies never gain the upper hand) that next to the city also play moths, spiders and huge dreams and roles that most people have never read a fantasy that even resembles this masterpiece.
People who by conventional Fantasy muzzle have fully or simply want to overthrow only in a reading adventure in which you never know what to expect next, I can "Perdido Street Station" just put your heart. This book needs more love.