83 books like No One Noticed the Cat

Three worlds in one book! There’s the not-so-important world of the Ancelstierre, roughly Edwardian or early-20th-Century-ish, and there’s the Old Kingdom, basically medieval, where Charter Magic wars with Free Magic (and how well Nix thinks through the workings of his forms of magic).

But the third world is the one that takes the cake! An underworld of the dead, with its different levels, gates, and sills. Sabriel discovers her own special inheritance and powers—OK, that’s standard fantasy fare, except that Sabriel’s powers are those of an abhorsen. It’s the Abhorsen’s role to make sure that the dead stay dead, and journey on down into the deeper levels of death. Of course, the dead who keep coming back are the ones who drive the narrative!

This book has become so familiar to us through cartoons and movies that we often forget how very weird it is as a piece of writing. The book begins when Alice, bored of her sister’s company, notices a white rabbit muttering to itself “Oh dear! Oh dear!”, and starts to become curious—not, mind you, because talking rabbits are impossible, but only because they are so very intriguing.

The rest of the book shares this bemused tone: Alice will be subjected to all sorts of indignities, including a near-beheading, but as a “good” Victorian girl, she will generally accept the bizarre reality that is presented to her. Carroll’s mastery of language is key to this effect. Nearly every character sounds sensible, turning well-formed logical sentences, but they never make much actual sense, and their speeches are riddled with so many puns, double meanings, and other linguistic tricks that one can never… show more.

It’s quite possibly the scariest book ever written. Much scarier than most adult horror books. Adult horror books rely on cheap shock value to elicit cheaper scares. It provides the same (or greater) level of unease without resorting to the gratuitous.

I cannot fathom how this book managed to pull that off. But I can say that this book has more to offer adults than it can give to children. An adult can see the subtext of a story where a child disappears because a stranger offers them candy and toys, as well as the implication that such strangers may not be entirely human.

And I can’t tell you what makes it so great without spoiling the whole story. I was so engrossed in this story that it practically kidnapped me. I can’t recommend it enough.

Diana Wynne Jones understands fundamentally that cats rule and they are also little jerks. Throgmorten is a sacred cat from a temple in another world, which is a very cat lifestyle, and he spends the whole book spitting and scratching and biting people, which is the singularity of focus that I strive for in my life. Diana Wynne Jones is also not afraid to directly transcribe cat noises, by which I mean Throgmorten says “WONG” a lot, which is such an objectively weird way to describe a cat’s yowl until you actually hear a cat make that sound and realize, “Oh wow, yeah, it does sound like he’s saying ‘WONG.’” I’m not saying authors who exclusively say that cats “meow” are cowards, but. I’m not not saying that.

The thing about a pet finding its way into your life at exactly the right time is that it does kind of feel like a divinity sent you a little helper to keep your life from completely falling apart while you are pretending to be a boy so you can become a knight or while you are on a writing deadline and very stressed out, which are two challenges that are equally difficult and noble.

Mr. Cat is a ride-or-die. Mr. Cat walks the line that all cats do in the real world, in that he doesn’t actually have magic powers and he can’t actually talk, he is at the end of the day a little animal that lives in Jenny’s house, but also he would bite a ghost without hesitation. It’s Peter S. Beagle’s complete mastery of voice and tone that enable Jenny and Mr. Cat to walk that line so effortlessly. Because the fantastical is grounded so deeply in the real world, the stakes feel so high that I first read this book in one breathless sitting, afraid to look away. 

This book features a calico cat who reminds me very much of my own cat, Peanut Butter. But Conrad the cat is a very special cat—he talks!  And he helps retired police detective Lulu Lewis solve crimes. Lulu lives on a canal boat in Little Venice, which has always been a dream of mine. I gather this is the first in a series of Conrad the cat cosy crime mysteries, and I can’t wait for the next one!

A cat called Joe Grey discovers that he can speak and at the same time he witnesses a murder. But the murderer knows that Joe has seen him, so all of his nine lives are on the line. Joe meets another cat, Dolcie who can also talk. They team up to discover who the killer is. The story is written from the point of view of the cats, which I love! There is a whole series of Joe Grey mysteries, and I love them. The author has won eleven Cat Writers' Association Muse Medallion Awards for best cat novel of the year.

An elderly man goes in search of a cat to make him and his wife less lonely. He comes home with not one but millions of them: how to choose which to keep? The cats solve the problem by fighting among themselves until “they must have eaten each other all up.” But one unexpected little kitten is left…. 

I couldn’t have articulated this when I first sat raptly turning its pages, but Ga’g’s fable, with its handwritten text and charming 1928 black-and-white drawings, acknowledges both the ferocious and the vulnerable in children’s natures.

I remember really enjoying this book as a kid. Jason and his talking cat, Gareth, embark on a series of time travel adventures, from Ancient Egypt to the Revolutionary War. Alexander was probably best known for his Chronicles of Prydain fantasy series, but Time Cat is less a fantasy story than a series of time travel episodes. I’ve always been more interested in stories that involve time travel back to the past rather than into a hypothetical future, probably because I love history.