This needless to say interesting collection of sentient beings inhabits New Crobuzon, a squalid metropolis whose sprawl serves the intersecting interests of various criminal and fascistic governing authorities.

A world, in other words, beneath its fantastic trappings somewhat like our own.

The primary protagonists -- Isaac Dan der Grimnebulin, an overweight mad scientist type (and lover of the aforementioned insect) whose unthinking actions result in wreaking terrible havoc upon innocents, and Yagharek, an exiled warrior-bird whose wings were cut-off as punishment for a horrible transgression against his kind -- both seek redemption. And both achieve it, though in startlingly different ways.

China Miéville tackles the big themes here, both theological and secular, in dissecting the corpus of compulsive desire, whether the object of that desire is sublime, as in the case of artistic expression or scientific obsession, or debased, as in sexual depravity or political oppression. What's particularly admirable -- and is one reason why this work rises to literary heights some others folks working the fantasy aisle can only glimpse at -- is that he doesn't flinch away from depicting the harsher realities of the human condition (and, yes, of course, all these grotesque characters are, ultimately, reflected distortions of the human constructed prism). His heroes are flawed, and in owning up to their flaws (which is what makes them heroes), they not only discover horrific things about themselves and others, but must at times inflict -- or ignore -- horrific things to achieve their ends. Enlightenment does not come without considerable physical and psychic costs.

That's not the sort of thing run-of-the-mill, fantasy-by-the-numbers likes to dwell on. And, if what you're looking to do is escape reality, there's certainly nothing wrong with that kind of entertainment. However, if you read fantasy -- or just plain read -- to probe existential meaning, Perdido Street Station is an absolute must.