People have different ideas about what constitutes an entertaining book. The elements I look for include, but are not limited to: secret organizations, libraries, kick-ass women and spies. As soon as I read the blurb of Genevieve Cogman’s The Invisible Library, I knew this book was for me: the ultimate library that is also a secret organization and a kick-ass female hero who is also (yes, you guessed it) a spy. And a reader. Although to be completely honest, I think Cogman had me at the title.

So, Irene, the agent of the Library, travels to an alternate London to retrieve a rare book: a unique edition of Grimms’ fairytales. It will of course not go smoothly. It rarely does when chaos infestation, rival agents, mysterious apprentices and agents of Lichtenstein are involved. I mean, there has to be some sort of a special award for a book where Lichtenstein is the headquarter of evil and a chapter about a very sophisticated ball ends with “and at that moment the alligators burst into the room”.

Good, non-stupid entertainment is not easy to do. It requires great technical skill – pacing, keeping the tension, balancing the surprises with the clues. It also requires… non-stupidity. I am internationally known for my low standards when it comes to certain genres, but I’m growing more and more impatient with some tropes of fantasy and science fiction. I can easily forgive a far-fetched plot, but what’s the excuse for only having white people or one named female character in the book? And you can bet she’s real pretty, too.

Cogman succeeds on both counts. The book flows nicely, the language is nimble and witty and while you can see the end coming, it’s satisfactory and there are some surprises. Even more importantly, I don’t feel like an idiot who is expected to swallow any old cliche. There are familiar elements, of course, but they are handled thoughtfully and with care. Characters are maybe not hugely complex, but they have nuances. People’s actions have motives and relationships evolve. There is a lot of potential for romance, but it’s not clear if and between whom it’ll materialize (not unlike in real life: one thing I’ve grown impatient with in books is when by page 7 the latest, you know exactly who’s going to have the Great Romance). The general feel of the book leans Victorian-steampunkish, but not overbearingly so.

The book also passes the Bechdel test with flying colours. Cogman doesn’t preach, she makes her points subtly and deftly. It manifests in the way she lets her male characters talk about women (‘respect’ and ‘liking’ are involved), how she portrays women for whom work is important and how the hero’s defining relationships are with other women, not with men. I feel that in addition to books about the struggle against inequality, we need more books that show us equality as the norm, so that we can absorb it and get used to it and eventually make it happen ourselves. It’s not to say that Cogman’s London is an entirely equal-opportunity setting – although The Library itself seems to be – but that’s not the point. It’s about the attitude and the tone.

The Invisible Library is a feel-good book. Unless you cannot handle any amount of fantasy at all, I highly recommend it. If you have ever been or still are the bookish one, not the pretty one in the class, you will relate to it. Have some tea and biscuits and get ready for some excellent-quality wish-fulfillment (this goes for boys, too, it’s not like only female characters are cool).

And I hear there will be sequels.