The Beekeeper's Apprentice - DC's Page

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice

by Laurie R. King
HarperCollins: £6.99
ISBN 0-00-651434-0

Sometimes I have Radio 4 on while I’m working on Web pages. I don’t always listen closely, but every so often, my ears prick up at something of interest. Generally, that isn’t drama (usually something which makes me turn off).

Recently, however, Radio 4 transmitted an adaptation of The Beekeeper’s Apprentice; I listened to that. I had heard of the book before, though never read it. I knew that it involved a post-Last Bow Sherlock Holmes, living in retirement on the Sussex Downs and keeping bees; I knew that he encounters a young woman, called Mary Russell, who becomes the apprentice of the title.

I listened with interest. The casting of James Fox as Holmes would probably not work on the screen, but on radio he was excellent; Monica Dolan was as fine in the rôle of Mary Russell. There were, though, less satisfying elements to the production.

At times the dramatisation was less than inspired, veering towards what Bert Coules (adapter of many of the Conan Doyle stories for Radio 4) has described as “ ‘The gun which I am holding in my right hand is loaded’ school of radio writing.”

Another irritation was the less than euphonic eruptions of assaults on a violin which punctuated the drama; because Holmes was described by Doyle as playing the violin, producers of Holmes adaptations cannot see beyond the instrument when it comes to music — unfortunately not necessarily with any effort to make it pleasing to the ear.

The story was narrated by Russell, describing the events to another woman. This framing device seemed very clumsily done by comparison with the adventure proper, and quickly became tedious. Bearing in mind that the quality of an adaptation is no guide to the quality of the original — something thoroughly hammered home recently when I saw an execrable “adaptation” of one of Lindsey Davis’s books — I sought out the original to read. Sure enough, the framing story is absent.

In accordance with all the rules of the genre, Ms King presents herself not as the author, but as the editor of a manuscript which has mysteriously come into her possession.

The story of Mary Russell’s encounter with Sherlock Holmes and the increasing intertwining of their lives until both are threatened by a criminal mastermind of the true Moriarty mould is told with assurance and style.

Unlike many (most?) Holmes pastiches, King does not feel obliged to load down the text with overt references to the Canon; those few references which are present are very naturally, and wittily, presented. One particularly amusing moment is Mary Russell’s eager request of Holmes to tell her how The Valley of Fear will end:

“The what?” He sounded astonished.

“Valley of Fear. In The Strand. I hate these serials, and next month is the end of it, but I just wondered if you could tell me, well, how it turned out.”

“This is one of Watson’s tales, I take it?”

“Of course. It’s the case of Birlstone and the Scowrers and John McMurdo and Professor Moriarty and — ”

“Yes, I believe I can identify the case, although I have often wondered why, If Conan Doyle so likes pseudonyms, he couldn’t have given them to Watson and myself as well.”

“So how did it end?”

“I haven’t the faintest notion. You would have to ask Watson.”

“But surely you know how the case ended,” I said, amazed.

“The case, certainly. But what Watson has made of it, I couldn’t begin to guess…”

Watson, lest you are concerned, does make an appearance and is handled very sympathetically, despite Russell’s preconception of him as a buffoon.

Many of the usual suspects in Holmesian pastiche are present, or their offspring at least. Most of the supposedly rediscovered MSS detailing the untold cases of the Great Detective are set firmly in the late Victorian era, the world of hansom cabs and telegraphs; most are a great less than convincing.

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice takes place during and just after the First World War — a time of motor cars and telephones. As you may have gathered, Russell’s Holmes does not slavishly follow Watson’s, yet despite this and the more modern setting The Beekeeper’s Apprentice actually seems one of the more faithful to the original of all the pastiches I have read — even with the exceptionally warm characterisation of Holmes himself.

For once, the depiction of Holmes pitted against a mastermind does work, and the revelation of the adversary’s identity is both plausible and surprising, yet it is possible for the reader to work it out — a rare feat. Also successful is the depiction of Russell as the intellectual equal of Holmes, and the dynamic of the Holmes–Russell relationship seems wholly natural and unforced by narrative requirements.

The one slight doubt I had was over the use of the word ‘feminist’ — was that word extant in 1918? But that’s a quibble. Anyone who enjoys the Sherlock Holmes stories should find this pastiche a very enjoyable diversion.

There are sequels, the first being A Monstrous Regiment of Women, which is more of a Mary Russell story than a Holmes story — not that Holmes is absent from it. It is a more leisurely tale in many respects, although still engrossing, and gives some insights into post-war Britain. Although more grim than The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, it does still have its lighter moments — especially Holmes’s fury at Conan Doyle’s publication of an article, with accompanying photographs, on fairies. The second sequel, A Letter of Mary, will be published in HarperCollins paperback in August 2001.