[REVIEW]: This Census-Taker by China Miéville

this-census-taker

Del Rey, 2016, 206 pp.

Reviewed by Giselda Aguiar

 

China Miéville’s novella, This Census-Taker, starts with the narrator retelling the story of when he, as a nine-year-old, ran away from his uphill home to the town below and announced to the gathered crowd: “‘My mother killed my father!’” All this within the first three pages of the book.

From the moment of that utterance to the end, Miéville crafts a story of shock after shock: disappearances, unexplained behaviors, murky pasts, and mystical elements.

Before continuing with the current narrative, Miéville (and the narrator) use(s) flashbacks to set up the boy’s relationships with his parents prior to the incident. The narrator tells of his father’s unusual and frightening behaviors concerning animals and, perhaps, humans; of his friendship with the town’s homeless children; of the oddities of the place and its inhabitants; and of snippets his mother tells him of his parents’ pasts.

Through these flashbacks the narrator establishes the setting and his personal history with some of the other main characters before returning the story to the present action.

After the boy readjusts his account of what he witnessed and after a brief investigation by the downhillers, no evidence of foul play is discovered and the young boy must stay with his remaining parent. The rest of the novella is of the weeks that followed.

Just as some of the towners dismissed the boy’s story, the reader starts to question how reliable the narrator is. He is a grown man looking back at his childhood. While the amount of time that has lapsed is not clear, years have passed, which might have muddled his memories. In addition, his nine-year-old self has all the confusions and misunderstandings of a child, making the retelling not completely dependable.

However, these uncertainties are what make the novella a compelling read that has one guessing what is true and trying to figure it out with the clues available: what the boy knew or thought he knew.

The book starts with a mystery and while it is “solved” in the boy’s mind, halfway through the reader might start doubting the boy’s explanation of what must have happened after he ran from home the first time. Perhaps the remaining parent is being honest or is indeed a psychopath. The introduction of a mysterious stranger adamant in completing his job, even though everyone in his position “‘were recalled,’” adds to the reader’s doubts and misgivings as to what really happened and where the adult narrator is now.

Many other unsolved mysteries abound and are not resolved by the end: the town’s history and certain people’s backgrounds, motives, and whereabouts. Readers are left thinking that something internationally horrible happened between several nations before the start of the story that has left the town in an almost post-apocalyptic world with orphan children running the streets and people forced to use candles for lighting.

The time it takes the narrative to return to the present action is a bit long for such a short book: about a third into the novella. After it returns to the boy telling the downhillers about the crime he supposedly witnessed, the narrative is easier to follow than the flashbacks that preceded it and the real interest is in this later two-thirds. Had the entire novella been organized in chronological order—starting with the events in the flashbacks instead of the boy running down the hill—it would have made a boring start and the reader might not have had the incentive to keep reading without the cliffhanger created by the insertion of the flashbacks into the present action.

A stylistic or narrative issue the reader will encounter may be the added hints concerning the narrator’s current whereabouts and situation. These hints—given throughout the book, starting first in the flashback section—might confuse readers with its vague indications and hard-to-follow timeline, and they include shifts in point of view from first to third or first to second. These switches might create confusion or an ephemeral feeling as the first-person narrator disconnects himself from his younger self.

If you cannot handle a book that leaves unanswered questions, then perhaps this book is not for you as it will leave you with an unsatisfied curiosity. But if you want a puzzle that leaves you wondering days, weeks after finishing the book, then pick this novella up. It can lead to a great discussion with friends who also want to figure out the mysteries in This Census-Taker.

 

Giselda Aguiar has an MFA in creative writing from Florida International University. When she is not teaching English Composition to college freshmen, she is reading or writing in the mystery and fantasy genres. Her writing and photography has appeared in The Florida Book Review, MIami, TUami podcast, and AngryGOTFan.com.