“Arabel’s Raven” could equally well be called “Arabel’s Id”. The connection between Arabel and Mortimer is instant and deep: when Arabel says that his name is Mortimer, she’s not naming him, she’s telling everybody else his name. Temperamentally they are opposites, with Arabel being a good child, neat, quiet, obedient, and well-mannered: Mortimer thus represents all the things she feels constrained from doing, as he is selfish, imperious, disobedient, messy, destructive, and generally wild. Mortimer’s total lack of restraint is best illustrated by his voracious appetite: he thinks nothing of eating anything from a pound of bananas up to an entire set of escalators. The comic potential of a raven who can eat a staircase and is constantly scheming to open up any other object that comes his way to search for diamonds is clear, and Aiken takes full advantage. As she does when she nods to another fictional raven by having Mortimer say “Nevermore” a lot, almost as much as he says “Kaark”: this is not just a joke in itself, but is used as an ingredient in further jokes. And though Mortimer naturally takes up most of the space in the story, Aiken makes sure not to neglect her secondary characters completely. Arabel’s mother’s tendency to get slightly hysterical when overexcited is a perfect complement to the story, as is her great-uncle’s elderly garrulousness: both provide the funny lines that Mortimer, with his two-word vocabulary, can’t supply. His preference, instead, is for physical comedy, which Aiken does an excellent job of orchestrating: usually the story involves Mortimer tangling with some bad guys, whether thieves or Arabel’s bratty cousins. Arabel’s father plays the straight man, largely unfazed by the goings-on and perfectly willing to temporarily replace the stairs with an aluminum ladder after Mortimer gets carried away and eats them. Aiken isn’t really concerned with tight plotting, but the stories move forward well enough, and Aiken's excellent comic instincts allow her to easily bridge any slow spots by having Mortimer do something funny. Furthermore, I find that these books retain their readability for adults much better than her best-known works, the Dido Twite series of children’s alternate-history adventure books. Anything that’s really funny is always readable.