Lazy Man's Review: Iron Council

[coalescent]

On the train home this afternoon I finished Iron Council: China Mieville's fourth novel, his third set in Bas-Lag, his second set in New Crobuzon, and the first of his that I've read. In Iron Council, revolution comes to Mieville's city-state.

I haven't decided how I feel about it yet; it hasn't had time to settle in my mind. But I think I think it was impressive but uneven; there were many sections I liked or loved, but probably an equal number that left me stone cold.

I will now be thoroughly lazy and tack my other thoughts onto other people's reviews.

Geneva said:

As well as reigning himself in stylistically, Mieville has also reigned himself in imaginatively. I don't mean to say that Iron Council is unimaginative - it's very far from that and Mieville is still the most creatively inventive writer around - but that Mieville's inventions in this latest book are inventions that substantially contribute to the story he's telling. In earlier works I sometimes got the feeling that his imaginative creations were almost gratuitous; fancies for the sake of fancies. That's not the case in Iron Council, where the flights of fancy and creative world-building are all instrumental to the tale being told.

Oh dear. I thought Iron Council was fairly full of gratuitous imagination. At times it just got a little tiring, like reading through a D&D bestiary in one sitting; at times I thought it genuinely clogged up the storytelling. The first 125 pages or so, in particular, seemed to drag immensely (Adam Roberts felt the same way, it seems). But then we get the Anamnesis, a long flashback that is almost a complete story in itself.

Matt Cheney said:

The anamnesis section of the book is a minor masterpiece, a story that is emotionally affecting, philosophically interesting, well written, inventive, and gripping. It is a pastiche of various types of writing -- most clearly tales of the Old West -- which also manages to maintain its own integrity. It echoes much labor history, utilizing archetypes from strikes and union battles past. (I couldn't help thinking of the role of railroads in the Mexican Revolution, and I'm sure other readers will think of various parallels.) It is, appropriately, filled with the excitement of underdog stories, of good guys versus bad guys, fueled with a naive (but necessary) belief in wondrous progress.

I agree with all of this, and then some. I found the anamnesis an order of magnitude more engaging than the rest of the novel; perfectly paced, extremely well-drawn, and with the restraint I thought was lacking elsewhere. It helps that I found the Iron Council itself fascinating, whereas New Crobuzon (surprisingly) didn't do a whole lot for me. It is perhaps the only time that I've wished a fantasy novel had a map inside the front cover.

Dan said:

Fittingly, the characters in Iron Council are almost all more human than some of the best in The Scar - there is no superhuman Uther Doul here, no preternatural Brucolac. Instead, we have a jealous and lonely shopkeeper-turned-adventurer, an uncertain and easily led, but genuine and ultimately tragic, political dissident, and a menagerie of other flawed but identifiably 'real' characters who struggle to tackle important issues in a way different to the one in which they are told to deal with them.

I found most of the characters remarkably hard to engage with. I have no real sense of who Ori and Cutter are; the only person in the book who stands out as truly memorable is Judah. This is probably not unrelated to the fact that the anamnesis, in which Judah features proiminently, is my favourite section of the book.

Norman Spinrad said:

You think you know how such a story must end, especially within a political and passionately revolutionary novel, but it doesn’t. Far be it from me to give away the ending even if I could, which I can’t, for it involves magic so convoluted and abstract that I can’t even understand it, not that I really believe Miéville intends me to, but the thematic confusion of it at least must be danced around.

[...]

Maybe Miéville has adopted an apocryphal slogan from the Irish Republican Army: "Now is the time for a futile gesture." Maybe this is Mao’s notion of the permanent revolution, that it is the process and zeitgeist of this neverending story that is the true revolution, not the end product.

Whatever my misgivings about the rest of the book, I thought the ending was pretty much perfect--thematically and emotionally right.

Actually, the real reason I mention Spinrad's review is so that I can digress a little, because he goes on to say:

Miéville’s use of magic is of the "he assembled a blaster out of toothpicks and baling wire" variety, just like full-bore post-modern space opera, and his story takes place on an alien planet to boot, so he could just as easily have written Iron Council as science fiction, since the science in a certain species of the stuff is as much pure bullshit as anyone’s magic.

Moreover, it would have better served the revolutionary goal of the novel, for while the game of fantasy is to play with the impossible, the game of SF, even post-modern space opera, is to at least pretend the story takes place sometime somewhen within our own universe. Therefore, if literarily successful, it does more to inspire the reader with the subversive notion that what is advocated is possible and thus can aid in calling it into being.

So why wasn’t Iron Council written as science fiction?

The question is easy enough to answer if one is willing to descend into the down and dirty of publishing economic determinism:

So it wouldn’t be published as science fiction, stupid. So it could be published at all. Advocating a violent collectivist revolution in a disconnected fantasy universe where it can maybe be perceived as just a literary game is dicey enough, but doing it in a science fiction novel where it would cut too close to home reality would, under the present political situation in the United States, probably make it unpublishable, and if published, result in an unfriendly visit from the boys from Homeland Security.

This is, er, an interesting perspective, to say the least. He continues for a bit, and eventually offers somewhat unusual definitions of sf and fantasy, and what they can and cannot do, culminating in this:

In literary terms, fantasy requires no suspension of disbelief because no belief is required. Whereas science fiction must create suspension of disbelief.

Uh-huh. See also this thread on David Moles' blog, and in particular this comment by Benjamin Rosenbaum.

Lastly, there is a 'virtual seminar' on Mieville and Iron Council available at Crooked Timber (or at least there was, and I hope there will be again when the site comes back up).

Comments

[veggiesu.livejournal.com]

"In literary terms, fantasy requires no suspension of disbelief because no belief is required. Whereas science fiction must create suspension of disbelief."

I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the guy is talking total bollocks.

[coalescent.livejournal.com]

Well, within his unique definitions of 'science', 'fiction', 'fantasy' and 'suspension of disbelief', what he says is entirely true. I just don't think his definitions have much real-world correspondance. :) He's awfully hung up on the importance of science fiction being plausible ...

My Review

[lpetrazickis.livejournal.com]

Iron Council by China Mieville
Steampunk
Secularity: 10 Technophilia: 10
Quality: 8 Xenophilia: 10
Personal Tilt: 7 Average: 9

"I want to die for the engine I love -- one hundred and forty three"
- a folk song

Two decades after the dreamplague of Perdido Street Station, the industrial metropolis of New Crobuzon bubbles with discontent. Guilds strike. Revolutionary cells meet and blabber. Militia patrol in grim uniforms.

The suffrage remains very limited. Power is still in the hands of the Fat Sun Party, with the xenophobic Three Quillers holding the balance of power. New Crobuzon is at war with the city-state of Tesh, and crippled veterans fill the streets.

New Crobuzon's industrialists have launched the construction of a railroad to span the continent. Hills have been levelled, swamps have been filled, mountains have been bored. Thousands of vodyanoi, human, cactus, and Remade workers have died.

In the meantime, an insurrectionary by the name of Cutter has set out on a journey to find a comrade -- or, as Mieville artfuly prefers -- a chaver called Jonah who is in turn looking for the legendary Iron Council.

The first part of the book is bone-fast. The search for Jonah rushes in a manic whirlwind of activity across Bas Lag. Mieville eventually lets up the pace and slows down to a point that lets the majesty of the universe shine through.

The usual playful nomenclature of Mieville is in full force. Exotica suprises and delights. Events echo real world ones without lapsing into allegory.

Terry Pratchett likes to mumble about the narrative imperative, but he doesn't really grasp it. Pratchett's wars end with the sides realizing that they know each other's first names or that they'd much rather play some footie or something trite like that. Everyone's a jolly swell bloke. Uhm, okay. Very gripping. Not.

Mieville, on the other hand, is possessed by the imperative. Iron Council has, in a way, run away from him. At times, the plot stops being a novel and becomes a tall tale or a Biblical myth. Hyperrealism mixes with airbrushed archetypes. China failed to add enough water to the concentrate and the result is a mix of juice and juice powder.

I recommend it, but not as much as I recommed The Scar.

http://www.utsc.utoronto.ca/~02petraz/reviews.shtml

[tefkas.livejournal.com]

I have struggled with Mieville's Perdido Street Station several times. I like it, but it's just so huge, and you get the feeling that each and every sentence has at least three adjectives too many in it, to pad it all out a bit...

So, if I manage to crack Perdido Street Station, I may well end up reading the rest... but for the time being I've not got there yet.

[coalescent.livejournal.com]

every sentence has at least three adjectives too many in it, to pad it all out a bit...

More annoying for me was the fact that every thing has at least three sentences too many used to describe it. It's like he thinks up five brilliant ways of describing something but can't decide which he likes best and so uses them all. Makes for some very vivid images, but it can be a bit of a struggle sometimes. :)

[swisstone.livejournal.com]

Actually, whilst I was put off starting Perdido Street Station by the size, once I did, it all rather shot past, and it didn't seem as long as it was. Unlike other works, such as those by N*** S*********, which seem much longer ...

[greengolux.livejournal.com]

Oh dear. I thought Iron Council was fairly full of gratuitous imagination. At times it just got a little tiring, like reading through a D&D bestiary in one sitting; at times I thought it genuinely clogged up the storytelling. The first 125 pages or so, in particular, seemed to drag immensely

Hoo boy. Be very intewrested to see what you think about Perdido Street Station then, because Iron Council is the very model of streamlining in comparison.

[veggiesu.livejournal.com]

within his unique definitions of 'science', 'fiction', 'fantasy' and 'suspension of disbelief', what he says is entirely true.

I think if you have to redefine three words and a phrase to make what you say true, then "talking bollocks" is still an adequate description of what you're doing :-p

[coalescent.livejournal.com]

That's a fair point. :)

(And on an entirely different note, you might enjoy this.)

[veggiesu.livejournal.com]

Thanks, I did :-) As you might imagine, I have several thoughts on that story, but sadly no time to organise them, let alone write them up now. Prod me again on Wednesday or Thursday? I'll make an attempt at coherence then :-)

[coalescent.livejournal.com]

*prod*