Interesting plot and fascinating premise, though the writing was a bit hard sometimes due to some extremely bizarre and random grammatical errors. The foundational idea of the book--how two bordering city-states co-exist in a state of recognition/non-recognition resonates so powerfully with a number of geo-political hot spots from Yugoslavia to Palestine and Israel. For most of the book I was convinced it was a commentary on the latter, but by the end it seemed a more generalized statement. ( )

The premise: two cities, two countries that occupy the same physical space, but the inhabitants of each are prohibited from seeing or interacting with the other. Makes no sense at all, right? This was honestly the weirdest story I've ever read, which I also happened to really like. It's a police procedural and a noir thriller, but also batshit-strange urban fantasy. Impossible to categorise and hard to recommend, but hard not to. Read this if you feel like having a master storyteller lead you somewhere that you've never been. ( )

This book gets 3 stars because it is an obvious experiment and it almost succeeds. It explores the idea that two cities can exist separately in the same space 'grosstopically' without resorting to the typical alternate dimension bromide. In order to accomplish this, the separation of the two cities is itself a thought experiment that has been maintained and nurtured by the people for centuries. A murder intrudes and seems to threaten the future of the separation.

But 'almost' does not get it a recommendation. I found the writing to be almost haphazard throughout. That may have been a stylistic choice. I found it hard to stay with. After a while, the idea that at least two complete cultures could live so intermingled, yet so separate, for so long did not resonate as even remotely feasible.

Ultimately, the story, though was about Inspector Borlu and his investigation. Did he change by the end of the novel? Yes. Did he solve the crime? I won't spoil it. At least he was a reasonably amiable partner in the journey. Trouble is, he is so well written, in a way, that it was often difficult to distinguish between people and places. He was too close to it. To familiar with it all. So description was mostly glossed over and muddled. I found it hard to visualize most of the secondary characters and none of the tertiary. And only a couple of places stick out in my memory and even they are muddled. Perhaps, again, that was a stylistic choice.

In the end, I can only applaud the author for his attempt and for his managing to keep me with him through the whole thing. But that's about it. I wanted to like this book so much more. ( )

China Mieville is the author when it comes to cities. I've found some of his other works tedious going because he puts so much love and adoration into his settings that he can't help but nudge the plot out of the way to show you his cool setting. Luckily, when it comes to The City & The City, Mieville had a brilliant idea: the detective novel provides a perfect frame for him to show off his city without it fighting for attention with his plot. Because there's a mystery to investigate, the details of the setting become critical to the plot, and can be properly showcased. Inspector Borlu is perfect for the job of tour guide -- the archetypal detective, he neither truly inhabits his life, but clinically examines his surroundings, and his arms-length remove from the city sets up the theme nicely.

Of course, where The City & The City shines is in the titular cities and there are (at least) three: Beszel: a prototypical Eastern European Olde Country; Ul Qoma: nouveau riche and glitzy; the combined physical reality that contains both, transposed on top of each other, not to mention Orciny -- the mythical third city that lies in the interstitial space. The idea is just so cool. And then the more I thought about it, the more I reflect on life, and that, my friends, is what makes a good book into a great book.

The central conceit is this: Ul Qoma and Beszel occupy the same space. I at first thought that this requires science fiction or fantasy, but Mieville employs neither here. Instead, he simply invents a political system where Ul Qoma and Beszel refuse to notice each other, even when physically located in the same place. They speak different languages, follow different rules and have different cultures. This was a stretch for me at first -- more of a stretch than imagining a magical system, to be honest. But then I started thinking of real-life split cities, like Jerusalem, where adjoining spaces belong to different governing bodies, speak different languages and in general refuse to acknowledge each other (even though in the book this exact example is brought up and belittled). And then I started thinking more generally and more close to home: I live in a neighborhood that walks the fine line between diversity and gentrification. Could it not be said that there are the neighbors, whether I know them or not, that I acknowledge more -- that, because I see similarity in the way they dress, talk and hold themselves, I am more likely to make small talk? When I talk about buying a house, there are blocks -- right next to highly desirable blocks -- where I would never live, because of the style of the houses and the presumed personalities of the neighbors (and the imaginary line dividing real people from the loathed undergrads.) And then I reflect on the recent political events and it's hard to argue that the same laws apply to everyone in the city, even in one physical location. So I spent a lot of time thinking about what these imaginary-but-real divisions in my life are, and what to do about them, since there is no all-powerful Breach in real life.

This ability to write a book that is intriguing prima facie, but that has used speculative fiction to explore deeper truths about real life is the exact reason that I read speculative fiction. The back of my copy of the City and The City compares it to Orwell and Kafka, but honestly, I think it transcends that and can only be compared to the true master: [a:Ursula K. Le Guin|874602|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1244291425p2/874602.jpg]. And to say it holds up well in the comparison is a compliment of the highest order. ( )

How much does perception shape reality? Inspector Tyador Borlu of the Extreme Crime Squad finds a deadly conspiracy beneath a routine murder, and joins Detective Qussim Dhatt of his sister city Ul Quoma in trying to untangle the sordid web of nationalism and unificationism in twin cities that just happen to occupy the same space.

This was an incredibly China Mieville novel, if that makes sense -- and its concept, while interesting, was incredibly confusing for a good long while. It was both fascinating and overwhelming, and it absolutely overshadowed the story in a lot of ways. ( )