Pollock perhaps missed a trick by not including the Olympic Park, but apart from that his brilliant imagination presents a distorted reflection of all aspects of London – duelling snake-like trains, graffiti-coated tunnels, skyscraper thrones and drunken Russian tramps. In amongst this, though, it is surprisingly the human (or, at least, anthropomorphic) characters which shine through.
Make no mistake; the urban fantasyscape that Pollock creates is breathtaking. The only reason not to describe the novel as cinematic is a doubt that film technology could keep up: this is an example of the descriptive power the written word still keeps, even in the Avatar-era.
