Although some might consider Northanger Abbey a slighter or lighter part of the Jane Austen library, I think it compresses an accomplished lot in a slim volume. It’s as great a cast of characters, with all their charms and foibles, and as diverting a comedy of manners and intrigues as any of Austen’s works. It’s also a great takeoff on Gothic novels, and even incorporates some incisive observations on the writing and consuming of novels in general.

The book “Master of Reality” has the intensity, humour and fierce optimism against all odds of a Mountain Goats song or a live, manic John Darnielle performance. You can’t help but root for the damaged soul who is finding angry, determined salvation through Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne in this brief but powerful book. Darnielle’s assignment, as part of the 33 1/3 record review series of short volumes, was to capture how Black Sabbath’s “Master of Reality” album meant so much to him. He has done that with memorable, heartwrenching effect through the persona of a desperate, confused but still feisty and essentially good-hearted teenager named Roger, who is undoubtedly good portions both of Darnielle himself and of disturbed youth Darnielle encountered in an earlier career as a psychiatric nurse. Roger’s voice and desire to survive life on his own terms, with his own way of bolstering his spirits, is unforgettable.

Michelle Berry’s collection of short stories entitled “Margaret Lives in the Basement” is populated by a wide range of types of characters, but they all share variations of a deadpan, flat affect voice that suggests broken hearts and discouraged, downtrodden souls. Underneath that unhappy drone, there are hints of unspecified menace and sometimes revelations of depths of raw, yearning emotion. Most of the stories deal with misunderstandings, disappointments and disconnects between people and some, like the title story, unexpectedly resolve into celebrations of the joy of connecting when one least anticipates or thinks they deserve it.

This book is a deserving phenomenon and success story. A New York Times editorial no less (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/14/opinion/14tue4.html?_r=1) capture well what the book’s essential construct is: taking the whole “mashup” concept that works so effortlessly in the digital realm, but applying it to two “data sources” that are a little more unlikely and challenging to integrate.

But oh, doesn’t Seth Grahame-Smith manage with breathtaking originality to bring zombies and ninjas into the world of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It is a total and utter hoot from start to finish to see where the zombies will pop up next and to appreciate how surprisingly well they fit. Not only that, but shaking up the classic story in this fashion genuinely sharpens and gets you to consider afresh the themes of pride, prejudice and familial and romantic love and devotion. Really.

This book offers educational insights into the shameful history of slavery, in North America and in Africa. It would have been considerably more memorable and profound, however, if I could have felt an emotional connection of some kind to the main character, Aminata Diallo. She is more a symbol and didactic construct than a fully believable human being – could that all have happened to one person, physically and with historical accuracy? Unfortunately, because I could not suspend my disbelief for so central an aspect of this book, it was difficult for me to really warm to this book and its worthy themes.

Calling something a guilty pleasure suggests that while that thing is amusing or satisfying in a fleeting fashion, it is also superficial, not particularly well executed or not of lasting value. I’ve read all of Elinor Lipman’s books – of which her latest, “The Family Man”, is one of my favourites – and I realize that I need not think of them as guilty pleasures. The Jane Austen comparisons may be a tad overstated, but Lipman lovingly and elegantly crafts charming characters, foibles and all, along with engaging storylines and refreshing dialogue well within the realm of believability. Rueful Henry Archer and how he goes about forging a new extended family from fragments of his past, present and future are a delight to follow. Elinor Lipman’s work is a pleasure … no guilt necessary!

Jeff Jarvis’ enthusiasm for how Google has broken the rules and forged new ones is infectious, if a bit fanboy-ish. Even as he is prone to rather sweeping statements about how not bad but just lame the old days were (we all apparently got caught up in “Who Shot JR” because there was nothing else to choose from), the reader can’t help but pick up the cue from his title and wonder “what if …” in all the scenarios he posits where Google philosophies could be applied to mend many of industry’s and society’s woes. Essentially, Jarvis calls for the openness, transparency and apparent “power to the people” that Google tools and applications provide, and discusses how this could be applied to everything from customer service and car design to politics and governance, education and health care.

Jarvis too blithely dismisses the “privacy warriors” and the reluctance of institutions and individuals of certain ages to just relinquish control, but at the same time, he seems to personally espouse of what he speaks, so at least he has strong convictions about the validity of Google’s approach. He makes everything from his health to his political beliefs very public, and says that he has garnered more benefits from doing so that he has incurred apparent risks. He advocates collaboration, and cites commenters to his blog as helping him to hammer out some of the concepts for this book. In these respects, he lives the somewhat utopian view he has of Google, but he also suggests towards the end that the premise of honesty and connectedness fostered by online openness is perhaps just pragmatism or a fait accompli. Once your whole life is online, it is an easily searchable and traceable vapour trail, so what is the point of trying to hide anything, whether you are seeking love, a new job or public office?

As Jarvis sees it …

“The ethics and expectations of privacy have changed radically in Generation G [Google]. People my age and older fret at all the information young people make public about themselves. I try to explain that this sharing of personal information is a social act. It forms the basis of the connections Google makes possible. When we reveal something of ourselves publicly, we have tagged ourselves in such a way that we can be searched and found under that description. As I said in the chapter on health, I now can be found in a search for my heart condition, afib. That is how others came to me and how we shared information. Publicness brings me personal benefits that outweigh the risks.

“Publicness also brings us collective benefits, as should be made clear by now from the aggregated wisdom Google gathers and shares back with us thanks to our public actions: our searches, clicks, links, and creations. Publicness is a community asset. The crowd owns the wisdom of the crowd and to withhold information from that collective knowledge – a link, a restaurant rating, a bit of advice – may be a new definition of antisocial or at least selfish behavior.”