Book Log 33/2009 - Un Lun Dun
May. 4th, 2009 02:13 pmChina Mieville – Un Lun Dun
I really wanted to read this book. After struggling with Perdido Street Station (a brilliant book, I thought, but not for me) I hoped that I would find something in Mieville’s children’s book to enjoy. I’d heard good things about the rich and quirky imagination and the fast-paced story. Sadly even though the good things were not inaccurate in many ways, I still found I didn’t engage with the characters.
I spent much of my reading time wondering why I didn't really think it the best thing since sliced bread, and feeling guilty for not grokking what is obviously - in many ways - an admirable and accomplished book. Deeba Resham is a brave heroine, Hemi, the half ghost boy is an engaging enough character, but somehow all the myriad parts didn’t mesh into a whole for me.
The basic premise is that all the major cities in the world have an un-city existing on a slightly different plane. They are inhabited by humand and not-quite-humans and stuffed full of all the leavings of the real city, with, for instance, moil houses made of discarded fridges and microwaves. There's an army of unbrellas (broken umbrellas) controlled by the not-quite-what-he-seems Brokkenbroll. When Zanna and Deeba find themselves in Un-London they spend the first almost hundred pages just wandering round meeting quirky folks being stalked by feral rubbish (Deeba adopts a milk carton, Curdle, as a pet), menaced by a semi-ghost, getting rescued by a flying bus manned by Rosa and Jones the conductor (who conducts electricity as well as passengers) and being protected by ninja dustbins (binjas). It seems that Zanna is the ‘shwazzy’ the chosen one, destined to save Un-London from its deadly enemy, the smog using a weapon called the kilinneract (Clean Air Act, geddit?) which saved the real London from the smog in the 1950s and 60s. Finding the Propheseers on the ever moving bridge – the Pons Abscondicus – seems to be the solution to Zanna and Deeba’s problems, but it’s not, of course. Zanna is attacked by the smog and almost killed and it looks like all the prophesies in ‘The Book’ are a load of bunk. Deeba gets Zanna back home to the real London and that’s where the story really starts.
When Deeba realises that all is not what it seems in Un-London and that someone who is supposed to be a saviour is actually the Smog in disguise, she realises she needs to return to the abcity and warn her friends.
So Zanna’s role as the shwazzy was a hundred pages plus of red herring. It’s Deeba, the un-shwazzy, who’s going to make the difference. This is a long book – 520 pages – and I can’t help feeling that it’s too long for the weight of the story. Oh sure, there’s plenty of movement and new weirdnesses on every page, but it all seems to rely on a string of quirky ideas which – neat as they are – don’t make up for the shallow characterisation. We don’t know much more about Deeba after the story finishes than we did beforehand. She’s essentially the same courageous, sensible little person as she was at the beginning. We don’t find out anything much about any of the supporting characters such as Jones the Conductor or Obaday Fing the tailor who sews suits out of waste paper and has pins and needles for hair.
It’s all very self-consciously funny in a way that doesn’t make me laugh. Yes, it’s surreal, inventive and imaginative, bizarre and slightly grotesque, but in a way it seems to be trying too hard with its smombies (smog-zombies) and Black Window (spiders) who bizarrely make off with Jones’ long-time partner, Rosa without upsetting him for more than half a sentence.
I did find that it picked up the pace in the final confrontation between Deeba and the smog, but by that time it was almost too late to redeem the book for me. I so wanted to like this book and I’m afraid I didn’t, though I can fully understand others liking it. I’d like to know what children make of it; whether the daisy-chain of impossible adventures is enough for them to think it a great book or whether, like me, they feel that in 520 pages there should have been room for something more.
I really wanted to read this book. After struggling with Perdido Street Station (a brilliant book, I thought, but not for me) I hoped that I would find something in Mieville’s children’s book to enjoy. I’d heard good things about the rich and quirky imagination and the fast-paced story. Sadly even though the good things were not inaccurate in many ways, I still found I didn’t engage with the characters.
I spent much of my reading time wondering why I didn't really think it the best thing since sliced bread, and feeling guilty for not grokking what is obviously - in many ways - an admirable and accomplished book. Deeba Resham is a brave heroine, Hemi, the half ghost boy is an engaging enough character, but somehow all the myriad parts didn’t mesh into a whole for me.
The basic premise is that all the major cities in the world have an un-city existing on a slightly different plane. They are inhabited by humand and not-quite-humans and stuffed full of all the leavings of the real city, with, for instance, moil houses made of discarded fridges and microwaves. There's an army of unbrellas (broken umbrellas) controlled by the not-quite-what-he-seems Brokkenbroll. When Zanna and Deeba find themselves in Un-London they spend the first almost hundred pages just wandering round meeting quirky folks being stalked by feral rubbish (Deeba adopts a milk carton, Curdle, as a pet), menaced by a semi-ghost, getting rescued by a flying bus manned by Rosa and Jones the conductor (who conducts electricity as well as passengers) and being protected by ninja dustbins (binjas). It seems that Zanna is the ‘shwazzy’ the chosen one, destined to save Un-London from its deadly enemy, the smog using a weapon called the kilinneract (Clean Air Act, geddit?) which saved the real London from the smog in the 1950s and 60s. Finding the Propheseers on the ever moving bridge – the Pons Abscondicus – seems to be the solution to Zanna and Deeba’s problems, but it’s not, of course. Zanna is attacked by the smog and almost killed and it looks like all the prophesies in ‘The Book’ are a load of bunk. Deeba gets Zanna back home to the real London and that’s where the story really starts.
When Deeba realises that all is not what it seems in Un-London and that someone who is supposed to be a saviour is actually the Smog in disguise, she realises she needs to return to the abcity and warn her friends.
So Zanna’s role as the shwazzy was a hundred pages plus of red herring. It’s Deeba, the un-shwazzy, who’s going to make the difference. This is a long book – 520 pages – and I can’t help feeling that it’s too long for the weight of the story. Oh sure, there’s plenty of movement and new weirdnesses on every page, but it all seems to rely on a string of quirky ideas which – neat as they are – don’t make up for the shallow characterisation. We don’t know much more about Deeba after the story finishes than we did beforehand. She’s essentially the same courageous, sensible little person as she was at the beginning. We don’t find out anything much about any of the supporting characters such as Jones the Conductor or Obaday Fing the tailor who sews suits out of waste paper and has pins and needles for hair.
It’s all very self-consciously funny in a way that doesn’t make me laugh. Yes, it’s surreal, inventive and imaginative, bizarre and slightly grotesque, but in a way it seems to be trying too hard with its smombies (smog-zombies) and Black Window (spiders) who bizarrely make off with Jones’ long-time partner, Rosa without upsetting him for more than half a sentence.
I did find that it picked up the pace in the final confrontation between Deeba and the smog, but by that time it was almost too late to redeem the book for me. I so wanted to like this book and I’m afraid I didn’t, though I can fully understand others liking it. I’d like to know what children make of it; whether the daisy-chain of impossible adventures is enough for them to think it a great book or whether, like me, they feel that in 520 pages there should have been room for something more.