Miéville is a master at creating twisted, unspeakable abominations against reality - which he will then spend some length speaking about, seemingly just to spite their very nature. Ranging from horrific to amusing, touching and tender to lovecraftian, his characters are visceral and immediate - in some cases made all the more so by their complete inhuman, alien nature.

The plot of Perdido Street Station is almost more impressive than its formidable setting and cast. Ignoring, for the moment, the otherworldly players and sets, the narrative deals with topics ranging from taboo relationships, definitions of personhood, to the fear of the unknown and the nature of what it means to be human. This is all exposed through a mystery/thriller/adventure that serves as the core of the narrative.

The only real shortcoming of the book is that at points the machinations and horror pass the tipping point and move from horrific to humorous or from frightening to flabbergasting. These moments are infrequent, but occasionally crop up, and are common enough that the book as a whole is marred - albeit very slightly.