Ah what delicious sludgy, dark, human texture. China Miéville’s descriptive language and world building is unparalleled. This is book two (after reading Perdido Street Station last year). These books are long and luxurious so perhaps not the best entry point if you’re new to his writing but if you like this kind of thing there’s nothing better. My only quarrel with this book was the ending… It felt somewhat unsatisfying, or rather unfinished - where a typical book resolves this felt like the open sea was still in front of you? But it’s a very minor comment as mostly the strength of this book was that every page told a lifetime of texture. Definitely going to read book three of this trilogy after a break.