It should go without saying that reading fantasy requires that the reader actually has fantasy. Even so, a lot of fantasy seems to revolve around pages upon pages of lengthy descriptions of creatures, races and phenomenon that - given the presupposition that the author has a story to tell -leaves little to no room for the reader's own ability to fantasize.
Given this sad fact, it's quite refreshing to read a book that chooses to introduce a whole new world without bothering to explain more than absolutely has to be known to make sense of the story. It does make me want to read more, just to know more about the garuda - or whatever, actually. I like how Miéville takes it for granted that his world (Bas-Lag) is perfectly well known to the reader, even though he's perfectly aware that it's not. It's humbling, in a way. Like being a stranger in a strange land, not a visitor with a guidebook like in so many colourless Lord Of The Rings-ripoffs that have been written over the years. It keeps the reader on his/her toes.
I sort of lose interest in the story after a while, though. It's like there's no real room to get to know and care about the main characters before getting to know the city and the world. Of course even a sightseeing tour needs a guide, and I understand fully well that 800+ pages of New Crobuzon facts wouldn't work. But I expected a little more from Miéville and the book, than a fantastic (because it is fantastic, even though I said I lost interest in it) story that ends in what can only be described as an anticlimax with a handful of loose threads.
The ride was nice enough, though. I just might read one more.