The Literate Kitty

The Masked Library is the second in author Genevieve Cogman's "Invisible Library" series, and certainly has much to recommend it as a follow-up to the first in the series, The Invisible Library . We continue following the activities of Irene, a young (but not too -young) librarian, which... well, let's refresh a bit first, shall we? In Cogman's well-constructed environment, there are actually multiple worlds (and alternate worlds) in existence, most of which have some level of magical powers present. (Think a sort-of-Steampunk-meets-magic place, as Irene's current base of operations is a Victorian London.)  The fae and other magical folk, not-too surprisingly, can move between these worlds; regular humans can only do so with a little magical help.  And then, there are the Librarians—normal-ish people who study, intern, and are eventually hired by great institutions known as Libraries—who can move between the worlds (along with being able to do a host of ...

After reading a goodly smattering of Steampunk, it seems to me there are two basic approaches to the genre. The first is full-on fantasy (set in the Victorian era), with little technical and scientific elements providing an interesting spark to the proceedings. The second is straight-up sci-fi, with fantastical bits and bobs adding a delightful touch of whimsy. Both styles are enjoyable, and the fact that each caters to a different mood—one, sort of dreamy and otherworldly, and the other, more grounded in reality (albeit an alternate one)—is cool.  But, even better is when something unexpected is thrown into the standard mix, beyond just the de rigueur steam-powered this and mechanized that. Things tend to get really interesting when that happens... as in the case of Nathan L. Yocum’s Steampunk/detective mystery/action yarn, Automatic Woman .                                ❖ ~ ❖ ~ ❖ ~ ❖ ~ ❖...

A year has come and gone since the infamous butcher who terrorized all of London last committed any of his atrocities against the city’s prostitute community-- then simply vanished --but the effects of Jack the Ripper’s murderous spree can still be felt.  Daily life has resumed, with the masses still struggling to eke out their meager existences in the squalid, teeming metropolis, while the more-privileged attempt to shield themselves from such ugliness, but the prevalent attitude among all of London’s residents toward the police force remains, to put it mildly, less than favorable. Five women murdered and horribly mutilated... and the murderer still on the loose? Such gross incompetence! No one feels that failure more keenly than do the dozen members of the Metropolitan Police’s recently-formed Murder Squad--the undermanned, overworked (and underpaid) group of men tasked with solving not only the Ripper murders but every other murder in and around London, as well. Tha...

Humans have probably been longing to go back in time since... well, since man first realized there was a “back then”, and that things in the past may hold clues about the future. Short of running across an H.G. Wellsian time machine or a souped-up Delorean, though, such time-traveling jaunts have long been viewed as either ridiculously unlikely (by the glass-nearly-empty naysayers) or a maybe-one-day possibility (by the glass-half-full hopefuls)... until now, that is (and still, possible only if you’re chummy with a time-weaving witch willing to take you along for the ride). Good thing that Diana Bishop (an American professor at Oxford) is just that sort of witch, then, because she and fellow scholar (and ancient vampire) Matthew Clairmont have an urgent need to go back, way back, following the events in last year’s A Discovery of Witches [see review here ] by Deborah Harkness.  At least, it would be a good thing, if only Diana weren’t so woefully-untrained at a...

It is, I’d wager, the rare person who hasn’t read an awesome story, only to turn the final page, realize there’s nothing more, and wail, “But... what happens next?!?” Leading the pack in the insatiable wishing-for-something-“more” department is Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. That delightful classic alone has spawned countless prequels, sequels, and “inspired-by” tales, ranging from prim-&-proper continuations of the same story lines, to mysteries putting Elizabeth Darcy’s keen mind (and fine eyes, no doubt) to the test, to bawdy bedroom romps and zombie battles--the likes of which must’ve surely made Miss Austen do several spins in her grave. The resulting works, as one would imagine, vary wildly in their successfulness; not every idea translates well (the zombies--much as I enjoy reading about their insatiable brain-munching and the thought of such a quirky mashup--got old very quickly), while others sort of ooze inappropriateness (graphically-smexy scenes featuring heaving B...