I fell in love with Sherlock Holmes when I was in middle school, so early in fact that my mother had to ask a special derogation for me to borrow books from the library that were not meant for my age. (I wonder if such a distinction still exists these days, in that period you had to climb behind the librarians desk to a mezzanine, so that they couldn’t miss who went there unauthorized).
The problem is that Sherlock didn’t seem to love me back. He didn’t seem to hold his fellow countrymen in high esteem, even when he condescended to solve their problems, and I don’t even start about his fellow countrywomen. Sherlock doesn’t like women except for Irene Adler, everybody knows that.
Yet Laurie King dared to write the most shocking hypothesis of all (not the one where he’s gay, which wouldn’t disturb anyone these days): the version where he finally meets his female match. A woman so intelligent that they can see eye to eye on such idiosyncrasies as identifying muds origins, playing with their deductive skills, various fight techniques, etc.
This book is the first of a series, and although I read it during our trip to the US this summer and am awfully late at mentioning it here, I have been looking forward to reading more of it ever since.
What I loved about the book is the entertaining and easy prose, the fast pace and the plot with cases and villains in the good old-fashioned late Victorian way. There was deduction, investigation but also hot pursuit, exotic adventures overseas, bombs and conspiracy.
What I didn’t like so much was that Mary Russell herself isn’t really a believable character: she’s so mature at 15 that I mistook her several times for a 25 years old. She’s too perfect in… well in everything. And she just pushes aside poor dear uncle Watson in a shameful way. I understand that it couldn’t really become a trio but I wish Watson wasn’t made into such an old fool as he is. After all, he’s not as clever as Holmes and Russell, granted (who can?), but he was a doctor and a soldier so he’s far from being naive and stupid.
But the few reservations I spelled out here don’t weigh much compared to the fun I had reading the book. My most favorite Sherlock’s continuation remains to this day the BBC series, but since the next season won’t come soon, there’s not much that will stop me from buying the next Mary Russell book when I’ll want some light comfort read.