In a book that features squid-worshippers, talking tattoos, thugs with fists instead of heads, and even a tribble, you would think that all this ridiculousness might run wild, but that is not the case with Kraken. Even though the world of the novel is a version of London where multiple gods roam and many of the residents have some affinity for magic, the novel never fully descends into outright absurdity. The villains of the story--a Dickensian pair of personified malevolence, one of whom speaks entirely in a hodgepodge of mixed metaphors, awful analogies, and Cockney nonsense--ground the narrative in a violent reality. Even though the characters have magic at their disposal, the villains have powers far greater and far more sinister, so there is actual drama and conflict, not merely a series of events ending in someone pulling a rabbit out of the hat and then watching as the rabbit saves the day.

The main flaw with Kraken is that the author sometimes gets lost in creating his alternate London. Like Neal Stephenson's Anathem, much of the narration of Kraken is explaining how the world works, and the histories of its bizarre denizens. These explanations come whether they are needed or not. Explaining the squid cult that is at the center of the novel, or the backstory between London's warring factions is all well and good. But is it really necessary to devote time to explain Chaos Nazis? They're Nazis who love chaos; it's pretty self-explanatory. There are also a couple of sub-plots that, although they join up with the main plot in the end, go into more detail than is actually needed. And there's one potentially interesting sub-plot, involving a kidnapped girl who might be a cross between a human and a djinn, that doesn't get nearly enough attention. But wayward plots are what come with the territory when mixing genres like Kraken does. The novel has elements of horror, Sci-Fi (speculative fiction, if you're nasty), fantasy, and mystery, blending all these genres in a seamless fashion.