liveblogging a book: The City and the City

I was a little disappointed when the Potlach book of honor turned out to be a China Mieville one. I bounced so hard off the one books of his I tried to read that I was fairly certain I didn't want to go there again. So I've been dragging my feet about getting The City and the City -- if I thought hard about it I suppose I could say I left it till late so it would be fresh in my mind -- and I just got it today. My first thought when I had it in my hand was "good, it's not as long as that other one," not so much because it's a busy week for me all told but because that meant I wouldn't have to spend too much time in a Mieville book . . .

Dear dog and all that is canine, this is a disgusting way to begin a book. And yeah, I get that it's supposed to be harsh and awful, but you know, the dead naked woman with smeared makeup and horrible wounds found under a discarded mattress in a squalid crime-ridden neighborhood?

Not edgy. Not daring. Not revelatory. It's trite and I don't like it and it disposes me ill towards what follows. I have contracted to read it and take it seriously, but I really resent it and I resent my fellow potlatchers who voted for it instead of any number of other books.