This is the other review I had written for the first incarnation of this blog, when I still naively thought I could read and review at least one book per week. Ha!

This was written about a year and a half ago, and features one of my favourite books ever. It’s neat seeing how my writing style has evolved in the past eighteen months.

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Title: The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, or On the Segregation of the Queen
Author: Laurie R. King
Year Published: 1994
Genre: Mystery
Serialization: first book in series of eight (as of 2008)
Rating: 9/10
Premise: The initial meeting between famed Baker Street detective and literary legend Sherlock Holmes and sharp-witted fifteen year old Mary Russell on the Sussex Downs is as hostile as it is serendipitous. She nearly steps on him in her wanderings; he mistakes her for a boy. Despite his being esconced in his allegedly restful retirement, a mind so identical to his own and so in need of guidance is difficult to resist, and he, surreptitiously and with feigned reluctance, takes her on as his apprentice. As can be expected, the unlikely partnership and its penchant for interfering with the best-laid plans of Britain’s criminal network culminates in a threat to both their lives.

Review: Alrighty. This being the first ever review of my fledgeling review blog, I figure I’d go with something easy and take a look at a book I’ve read at least a dozen times over the past five or so years. It would be amiss to comment on its merits and drawbacks without warning the reader that this book is one of my favourite novels, and thus, I may be biased.

To comment briefly on the backstory on which this entire novel is based: I am an avid Sherlock Holmes fan. I have read every short story and novel written on this detective by Conan Doyle, though thankfully do not consider myself a Baker Street Irregular. (Those people are a bit scary.) A recent re-read of some of my favourites, however, reveal a flaw in the writing which my previously enarmoured mind had not picked up. Conan Doyle has created a fascinating character, and he certainly has a flair for creating bizzarre crime scenes for the detective to observe, but his prose is composed largely of exposition in the form of dialogue. There is little description of any of the actual events and scenes in which the detective finds himself – and with good reason.

It is impossible for readers to solve the mystery along with Holmes, for the simple reason that the reader does not have the intricate knowledge of tobacco ash, London soil, and footprint characteristics that Holmes grasps so effortlessly. Had Conan Doyle attempted to describe every smudge and every pile of mud at a crime scene, Holmes would never have seen the light of day. This, of course, undermines the readability of the series – the reader takes no active role in the stories. The mysteries provide little intellectual challenge, Holmes as a character is described as inscrutable and unrelatable, and the narratives consist largely of Holmes being arrogant, Watson being obsequious, and aloof explanations of how very simple the cases are while expounding upon their “uniqueness”. The cases become mere backstories, pure information with no interactive value, and 56 instances of backstories do become tedious. Even Conan Doyle’s novels have the characteristic of his short stories – a fairly short mystery (with much dialogue and exclamations of dismay) accompanied by lengthy exposition on the background of the culprit.

Laurie R. King, on the other hand, is adept at bringing Holmes to the realm of the human, and relatively sane. As the main character is in fact Holmes’ apprentice, King is free to create intricate puzzles for the duo to solve while providing the reader with interactivity and challenge through the thoughts and considerations of one who is barely inferior to the detective. Mary Russell is one who is learning how to tap into her deductive powers, and often needs to reason through the clues to painstakingly reach a conclusion, offsetting Holmes’ typical air of insufferable superiority. Holmes, on the other hand, faced with significant potential, willingly lays aside his disdain and contempt for the rest of humanity, which brings him to the level of plebians like us without undermining his considerable intellect. Mary Russell considers Holmes obnoxious, delights in contradicting her mentor, and often breaks away to explore her own ambitions. While the undercurrent of friendship runs strong, it is neither cloying nor artificial.

Mary Russell herself is an orphan with a typically “dark and twisty” past, but her determination and strength make her one of the few female heroines I actually admire. She may stumble occasionally, but she pushes through till the end. I suppose one of the most attractive characteristics she possesses is that she is ruthelessly logical, whereas most female characters tend to be portrayed as soft and emotional (even if that emotion occasionally saves the day through the ”power! of love!” or some other such nonsense). That the story is told from the first person from her perspective and still manages to fall into my list of favourites is impressive; normally I abhor first person narratives. Even though the storylines later in the series don’t quite match the twists and turns of this pilot (if you will) novel, the curious personality of Mary Russell and her calm approach to every problem are really what keep the series go so strong.

Needless to say, I strive to be like her, inferior intelligence of mine be damned.

But worry not, the blog’s not named “Honest Disdain” for naught. [Yes, the blog used to be called Honest Disdain. And yes, I did used to talk like that. Ugh.] Despite my complete worship of Mary Russell, the book did have its faults. The most glaringly obvious one being its overt feminism, a feature which manifests itself in some of King’s other pieces as well in the form of “in-you-face” delivery of a non-conformist attitude. Holmes is an established misogynist, and King goes out of her way to portray him being bested in various scenes by female characters in the book. Russell herself is supremely feminist and highly dismissive of the opposite sex, just as contemptuous of them as Holmes himself is of her peers. The blatant declaration of either sex to be superior to the other tends to leave a rather bad taste in my mouth, and I find myself making disclaimers and excuses when recommending the book to friends – “It’s a really good book, just ignore the excessive feminism”. King would be well-served in remembering that there is a difference between boosting a group up and pushings its opposing group down. Feminism can be just as bad as misogynism, and surely egalitarian views are grossly overlooked.

From the creator of an otherwise lovely character, this oversight is a bit disappointing and taints my enjoyment of the series. Beyond that, there’s really not much I can say. It’s a good book, stand-alone or as a series. Give it a shot.