It has been 25 years since China Miéville burst onto the literary scene with his groundbreaking novel “Perdido Street Station,” which seamlessly blended elements of science fiction, fantasy, and horror to introduce readers to the intricate and fascinating world of New Crobuzon.

The novel’s success can be attributed to its unique blend of genres, featuring a vast array of characters, including the insect-headed khepri, the cactus-shaped cactacae, and the terrifying slake moths that feed on their victims’ dreams. This innovative approach sparked a broader interest in what is now known as the “new weird” movement, a genre-bending style that challenges traditional fantasy and science fiction conventions. For instance, Miéville’s work has been praised for its ability to craft immersive and detailed worlds, as seen in the Folio Society’s limited edition release of “Perdido Street Station,” which showcases the novel’s intricate artwork and design.

After the success of “Perdido Street Station,” Miéville continued to push the boundaries of genre fiction with novels like “The City and the City” and “Embassytown.” However, he took a nearly decade-long hiatus from publishing fiction, only to return last year with the New York Times bestseller “The Book of Elsewhere,” co-written with none other than Keanu Reeves. This unexpected collaboration has sparked renewed interest in Miéville’s work, with many fans and critics eagerly anticipating his next project.

In addition to his fiction, Miéville has established himself as a thought-provoking observer and critic of politics, cities, science fiction, and fantasy. His insightful commentary has been featured in various publications, including The New York Times, where he has written about the intersections of science fiction and reality. For example, Miéville has discussed the tendency of tech billionaires to treat science fiction as a blueprint for their future plans, highlighting the importance of critically evaluating the role of science fiction in shaping our understanding of the world.

According to Miéville, science fiction is often misunderstood as a predictor of the future, when in reality, it is a reflection of the present. He notes that science fiction is “always about now” and serves as a “fever dream” that comments on the sociological context in which it is written. This perspective is evident in Miéville’s own work, which often explores the complexities of power, identity, and social justice.

Miéville also acknowledges that the wealthy and powerful tend to be more interested in settling Mars than addressing the problems of the current world, which he sees as a symptom of “societal and personal derangement.” However, he is quick to point out that science fiction is not the cause of this phenomenon, but rather a reflection of the societal ills that plague our world. As he notes, “Let’s not blame science fiction for this. It’s not science fiction that’s causing this kind of sociopathy.” Instead, Miéville argues that the root of the problem lies in the capitalist system, which prioritizes profit and power over people and the planet.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

First of all, congratulations on 25 years of “Perdido Street Station.” I was in high school when it first came out, and I have this very vivid memory of ditching school so I could finish the book, and then being very upset with how it ended.

Thank you for telling me — both that I upset you and that you read it. I must say, it’s still surreal for me to think about the fact that it’s been 25 years since the book was published. Time seems to have passed so quickly, and I often find myself wondering how I’ve reached this point in my career.

The idea that I’ve done anything that could be 25 years old, let alone this book, is still giddying to me. I suppose it’s a natural feeling, given that everyone my age is probably thinking the same thing — “I don’t understand how I’m this age.” But it’s a strange sensation, nonetheless.

In the afterword [to the new collector’s edition], you talk about this being a young man’s book. Was this also a book written in the spirit of, “I don’t like the way commercial fantasy looks right now, let me show you how it’s done”?

I wouldn’t say that I wrote “Perdido Street Station” as a deliberate attempt to intervene in the commercial fantasy genre. Rather, I was driven by a passion for the fantastic and a desire to create something that reflected my own tastes and interests. I loved fantasy, but I didn’t like a lot of the commercially successful fantasies that were popular at the time, which seemed to be highly derived from Tolkien’s work.

Instead, I drew inspiration from other traditions, such as the Dying Earth tradition, science fantasy, and the post-Michael Moorcock tradition. I was influenced by authors like Mervyn Peake and others who were pushing the boundaries of the fantasy genre. My goal was to create something that was true to my own vision, rather than trying to conform to the expectations of the commercial fantasy market.

In retrospect, I suppose you could say that “Perdido Street Station” was a repudiation of certain traditions, but it was not a deliberate act of flag-waving or a attempt to show others how it’s done. I was simply trying to create something that I would enjoy reading, and hopefully, others would enjoy it as well.

Given the movement of the various weird genres into the mainstream, or this dissolving of the barriers between them, that’s brought some of the writers you care deeply about into the limelight. But have there been any downsides?

Yes, there have been downsides. As with any subculture that gains popularity, you tend to get a lot of sub-par stuff coming in, along with the good. The genre becomes commodified, and you end up with a kind of cheapening of the ideas and the aesthetic. You see this happening with the proliferation of Cthulhu plushies and other merchandise, which can be amusing but also banalizes the underlying concepts.

This is not unique to the weird genre, of course. It happens with


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