So, emphasising the unhuman aspects of intelligent lifeforms may be one way to charge fantasy with the weird. Suppose we extracted Language from #Embassytown, and gave it to a sessile race of mushroom folk? In a nod to Miéville, let’s call them the Altshiitake. We know, for instance, that some species of mushroom hook up to plants in the local area to exchange nutrients and (potentially) communicate:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-48257315

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mycorrhizal_network#Potential_signaling_and_communication_between_plants

I’ve seen videos where people attach electrodes to a fungus’ fruiting body, and translate the changes in electrical resistance to synth notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYPhCFmtyX4

Some research has been done as to whether mushrooms have ‘language’ or not – as is the case with a lot of fringe science that gets hyped (and criti-hyped) by science journalism, the real answer is, “we don’t know enough yet:”

https://theconversation.com/do-mushrooms-really-use-language-to-talk-to-each-other-a-fungi-expert-investigates-181079

I’m skeptical. In fantasy, however, we can fill the gaps. We can say, yes, Altshiitake folk both communicate and perceive the world through their mycelium, and humans have figured out that their communications can be intercepted and repeated using certain materials. How the altshiitake work the underground to their needs, we don’t know – but dwarves won’t go near them.

Of the #ChinaMiéville books I’ve read, #Embassytown comes closest to showing how fantasy writers can keep it weird. (It’s technically sci-fi, and I am sure #PerdidoStreetStation would serve as a better example, but I haven’t read it yet!) The novel is set in the titular outpost on the planet Arieka, on the remotest edge of space. Humans living in Embassytown (and anthropomorphic ‘exots’) have learned to coexist with the indigenous Ariekei (aka “Hosts”). These fellas get a lot of visual descriptions, but still end up being tricky for the mind to imagine (at least if you’re me), but artists have tried:

https://outtherebooks.wordpress.com/2014/02/27/what-do-the-hosts-ariekei-from-embassytown-look-like/

Their appearance is uncanny, sure. What makes them truly weird is Language. Spoken with two mouths, Language is communication and cognition; entirely objective, with some caveats. Any creature who lacks the anatomy needed to speak Language are perceived as unintelligent (humans liaise with Ariekei through Ambassadors, genetically-modified identical twins). More importantly, the Ariekei struggle to understand symbolism and abstraction. Similes can only exist in Language if the thing they compare themselves to is literally true. For instance: some Embassytowners have been asked to become figures of speech by repeating a ritual, like swimming with fishes once a week. If they don’t keep up the task, then the simile falls out of Language.

Ariekei understand Language only when it is spoken with intention. And because they perceive intention objectively, it is nearly impossible to lie in Language. You can replicate Language with a computer, but there is no mind in the machine to talk to, so the Ariekei don’t understand a word.

Just as humans have transformed nearly every inch of land on Earth, the Ariekei are the universe’s only experts in “biorigging.” Embassytown’s Ambassadors teach the Ariekei how to lie, and in exchange, they get access to organic architecture, power sources, weapons, breathing apparatus, etc..

They have technology, the Ariekei. They have agriculture. They have culture, in their Festivals of Lies. But no ordinary human mind can meet theirs, and we can’t even begin to read their intentions from body language, because that’s a human abstraction. Imagine though we might, that feeling of not-belonging – the weird – permeates most of the novel. It is decidedly uneerie, however, because (without spoiling too much of the novel’s middle parts) – we recognise their agency, and we know when said agency is deprived.

If you’ve read literally any sci-fi story published in recent memory, you’ve seen #incluing at work. Here’s the opening paragraph to #ChinaMieville's #Embassytown:

> The children of the embassy all saw the boat land. Their teachers and shiftparents had had them painting it for days. One wall of the room had been given over to their ideas. It’s been centuries since any voidcraft vented fire, as they imagined this one doing, but it’s a tradition to represent them with such trails.