This '17 nom for the Hugos started out in a way that made me worry, just a bit, that it might not have the right SF or F twist to it that I was hoping for, appearing more like a love/hate letter to NYC, but, indeed, I should never worry. 
 This is Jemisin, after all. 
 It quickly became something reminiscent of pieces of Railsea with the tagging and the birth-pains of a city as it comes alive, gets consciousness, rises up with soul. What's more, it really does rise up with eldritch horrors and deep confidences, becoming a wild ride of fantasy and pure NYC flair... that is, if you're interested in being one of the hungry in the city and the flare is the spotlight of a cop car's spotlight. :) 
 I like the wild rides. I always have. And this story fits that fantastic bill. I'll even forgive it for hopping across the continent to give the angels a shot, too. :) 
 This is a worthy story, I think! :)