What if the Reconquista hadn’t happened and the Iberian peninsula remained primarily in Muslim hands? What if Al-Andalus, rather than Christian Spain, had sent explorers and colonists into the New World? What if its people had colonized what we call Manhattan, mixing heavily with people from other cultures? This alternate history forms the basis of a series of mystery novels by Roberta Rogow. I’ve read the six that have come out so far and enjoyed them. The island is called “Manatas” in this version of history. Each book is presents one or more murders whose investigation falls to Halvar, a North European employed by the Sultan. The books so far are:

• Murders in Manatas
• Mayhem in Manatas
• Mischief in Manatas
• Menace in Manatas
• Malice in Manatas
• Madness in Manatas

The novels trace the progress of Halvar’s career, not always in directions he’d like it to go. Each volume starts with some variant of “Halvar hadn’t intended to…” It then shows him suffering indignities and injuries but catching the killer or killers in the end. The last two books are closely tied and are best read as one story. Better yet, read the series from the beginning.

I should note that I count Roberta as a personal friend, so the Bias Response Squad may want to come after me. But I’m not an unconditional fan. Her novels with Conan Doyle and Lewis Carroll standing in for Holmes and Watson left me lukewarm. This series has really grabbed me, though.

Europe, or rather Oropa, is noticeably different from the real world. The German-speaking lands are called “Danic,” suggesting the centers of power are to the north, and the old religion of the Aesir still has a following. Halvar splits his bets between Thor and Jesus. There’s apparently no English-speaking world, and a Celtic language called Erse is widely spoken.

The place names have an odd similarity to those we know, as if history were trying to minimize the gap between the world of Manatas and ours. Across the river to the east is Brookline, and to the north is West Caster. Further up the coast is Bos-town. Locally you’ll find Green Village and Broad Way. The local dialect (as rendered into English) has a lot of coinages which are remarkably easy to figure out. Coffee is “Mokka” (no relation to my cat), cotton is “kutton,” and a certain fragrant animal is called a “sekonk.” History has been both shaken and stirred, but it’s still largely recognizable.

I’m not convinced it all withstands close analysis, but it is fun.