Margarita Murilegus [Margarita the mouse-catcher]

This is the first in a series of Latin novellas (short stories designed to develop reading fluency) about a family of cats which lives in the temple precincts of the goddess Libertas in ancient Rome.

Margarita, the temple cat, has grown restless. Tired of her predictable existence, she dreams of a more adventurous life – one that mirrors the agility and cunning of a weasel rather than the comfort of her family. Aspiring to prove herself as a skilled mouse-catcher, she sets out in pursuit of a new purpose.

Her ambitions, however, meet an early obstacle when she encounters an unusual adversary – the regina murum [the queen of mice] herself. After a surprising twist in events, her capture and subsequent release force her to reconsider her path and the realities of life beyond the temple.

A classic coming-of-age story with themes of independence and self-discovery, this tale will resonate with young readers – especially those drawn to the curious world of cats. The unexpected turns in the plot not only keep students engaged but also provide ample opportunities for language exposure and reading fluency development.

Linguistically, I would place it slightly beyond Cambridge Latin Course Stage 5. It primarily features nominative and accusative cases, with some infinitives and a handful of dative and genitive forms. While future tenses appear somewhat unsupported – lacking cues such as ‘cras’ to signal their introduction – the overall meaning remains clear, making tense accuracy secondary to narrative comprehension.

This story is not a test of grammatical precision. Instead, the text employs repetition and recurring phrases, reinforced by charming illustrations that aid comprehension. The visuals subtly guide the reader, ensuring clarity in dialogue and structure while maintaining the simplicity of the story’s framework.

There are approximately 227 unique words, fully glossed in the vocabulary list.

Margarita et feles Graeca [Margarita and the Greek cat]

This 81-page Latin novella, presented without illustrations, offers a fully glossed vocabulary – comprehensive in the dictionary at the back and selectively supported with footnotes where the author deems necessary. Yet, certain lexical choices raise questions. One such instance is the use of ‘feles’ for ‘cat’. In the first novella reviewed above, this caused few problems as the meaning was clear and there was plenty of supporting visual details to identify whether it is meant to be a singular or a plural noun. Without the illustrations customarily offered, this becomes more of a challenge in this book – designed, for ‘advanced beginners’, but beginners nonetheless. While it might not obstruct comprehension, it is a missed opportunity to reinforce fundamental distinctions of singular and plural forms for learners seeking clarity and structure in a reading text.

Tense use also invites scrutiny. The narrative’s consistent use of the present tense for most of its narrative (there are some flashback sequences in the past tense) means subordinate clauses – those requiring a subjunctive mood – also remain in the present. From a reading comprehension point of view, this barely matters. Students will almost certainly be using the vocabulary, not the syntax, as a guide for meaning, and guesswork and glossing over the intricacies will mean that nothing of the meaning will be sacrificed. However, the use of the present subjunctive diverges from what students will encounter in GCSE Latin and the leaving-out of the imperfect and perfect subjunctives (which are tested) could undercut the book’s longer-term pedagogical value.

This tension between readability and grammatical scaffolding highlights a broader issue: every narrative choice influences others. As seen in textbooks that introduce the perfect tense before the present – only to later backtrack because dictionaries foreground the present stem – authors of novellas must also anticipate the ripple effects of their structural decisions.

Thematically, the story’s vocabulary is heavily shaped by its plot: cats, mice, purring, chasing. While engaging, its utility for wider Latin reading is limited. Still, as Chris Rico from the Polis Institute suggests, the key to any Latin sentence lies in the verb. And here, too, there are issues. Many of the story’s verbs are common – walks, sits, goes – but the forms used can be slippery.

Shifts in person are particularly confusing. Though much of the text remains in the third person, moments involving first and second person forms lack clear pronoun support, making it hard for beginners to know who is doing or saying what. See, for example, the following: ‘non tuta sum – tristis sum. libera me!’ [‘I am not safe – I am sad. Free me!’] and ‘te non liberabo. postquam quod Graeciae accidit…solumte tutam esse volo. mox intelleges’ [‘I will not set you free. After what happened to Graecia…I only want you to be safe. Soon you will understand’] (both p. 53). Such ambiguity is exacerbated by the absence of illustrations, which would have anchored meaning and eased comprehension.

Repetition, a hallmark of good novice Latin, is present – but not always productive. While recurring vocabulary reinforces certain terms, it does not always support grammatical progress or narrative clarity. Take this, for example, where the different forms of verbs in quick succession may be confusing: ‘Margarita, Theophaniam quaerens, ad templum ambulat. Margarita valde sperat se Theophaniam inventuram esse. … Margarita, ad templum ambulans, quaerit sed Theophaniam non invenit’ [‘Margarita, looking for Theophania, walks to the temple. Margarita really hopes that she will find Theophania … Margarita, walking to the temple, looks but she does not find Theophania’] (p. 59). Whilst it is good practice to provide multiple examples of the same vocabulary in different clause types, I do not quite feel that the clauses themselves naturally support understanding of the actions in the order in which they happen. That ambiguity of sequencing, together with unusual (for this level) verb forms might mean a student rather struggles to understand what is going on.

In the end, this novella is ambitious and occasionally charming, but its pedagogical scaffolding falls short in key areas – tense handling, person marking, visual support – all crucial for the ‘advanced beginner’ it aims to serve.

The story itself – a forbidden love, the revenge of a queen, an army of mice, and the pungent aroma of – I will not reveal the ending – will engage students if they persevere. I did find the story harder to follow for the first third of the book, but the adventure aspect and the denouement made it worth the while.

Poppaea et caper fugitivus [Poppaea and the fugitive goat]

This volume in Cooper’s feline saga arrives in the form of a novella tailored, once again, for Latin beginners. Its structure is simple and plot-driven. Every word – every form – is glossed in the dictionary, with additional notes for less transparent vocabulary or idiomatic turns of phrase, clearly designed to support early learners.

In this charming sequel to Margarita Murilegus, we meet Poppaea, the somewhat oblivious feline heroine, as she stumbles upon a curious scene: a handsome goat, adorned with golden horns and flowers, being solemnly led up the temple steps by priests. To most, the goat’s fate would be obvious – but Poppaea entirely misses the sacrificial subtext.

Determined to save the goat, she is soon relieved when it makes a timely escape and vanishes into the bustling city. Thus begins Poppaea’s quest to find the fugitive animal and devise a way to appease the goddess without its bloodshed. What follows is a series of light-hearted adventures peppered with comic turns and clever mischief. In the end, the goat returns, cleverly outwits the priests (though whether the goddess is equally deceived remains ambiguous), and peace is restored to Poppaea’s feline family.

As with the previous novellas in the series, the text is both lively and accessible. The vocabulary is rich yet deliberately repetitive, striking an effective balance for language learners. Readers – especially students – will find particular delight in the frequent animal sounds, shouts, and assorted onomatopoeia that lend texture to the scenes.

True to its pedagogical design, the novella features large print, chapter divisions to aid pacing, in-text glosses for trickier words or idiomatic phrases, and a comprehensive dictionary covering all word forms. The plentiful illustrations add a visual rhythm that supports comprehension and enjoyment.

For beginner Latin learners, Poppaea and the Golden-Horned Goat offers not just linguistic reinforcement but a quirky, humane narrative that blends humour, myth and feline mischief – an irresistible mix for students and teachers alike.

Yet the book gently raises an ongoing pedagogical question: Is ‘Latinity’ essential, or can language learners thrive when the text is shaped more by English prosody and vocabulary familiarity? Cooper seems to favour the latter, crafting a Latin that meets learners where they are, though not without occasional awkwardness.

Notable examples include the use of ‘persevero’ plus infinitive to express ‘continue to’, where classical Latin might have simply used a simple verb. Similarly, sentences such as ‘caper pulcherrimus est quia deam honorare debet’ [‘it is a very pretty goat because it should honour the goddess’] and ‘capri pulchri capri optimi sunt’ [‘pretty goats are the best goats’] (p. 12) feel laboured and grammatically uneasy – most likely a consequence of mapping English syntax directly onto Latin. At times, this jars.

While most of the narrative rests comfortably in the present tense – suiting a learner around Stage 5 of the Cambridge Latin Course – a sudden shift to the past tense in a single interlude, a scattering of futures, deponent verbs, and even subjunctives disrupts the tonal consistency. For example, the isolated appearance of the present form ‘mordit’ [‘bites’] (p. 29) and the reduplicated perfect form ‘momordit’ [‘bit’] (p. 30) both appear in close proximity, with the first glossed below the text and the second not. The meaning of the passage is not incomprehensible –and each word can be found in the gloss – but they may strike teachers as surprising inclusions for novice readers, even if students themselves may not stumble.

The broader implication is one worth considering: if beginner novellas are to become staples in Latin pedagogy, perhaps it is time that we articulate shared expectations – whether as a teaching community or within series like this – so readers and educators know what linguistic range to anticipate. For example, Cooper often selects transparent English cognates rather than idiomatic Latin equivalents – a common characteristic of early language learning. But another thing to look at with beginner Latin students might be the inclusion of supportive pronouns where the verb ending is obscure (in deponent verb forms, for example) and consideration given to a consistent scheme for punctuation – such as using the exclamation mark, for example, where there is an imperative verb. What novellas get right, of course, like this one, is a story set at the right level with sufficient narrative interest to keep the reader going and thereby receiving much more language input at their level (and maybe a little beyond, but not much) than traditional textbook courses are able to manage.