Customer Reviews

Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

and it's all thanks to "Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog." I haven't read (yet) Akunin's four Detective Fandorin books available in English, but I will -- while I'm eagerly awaiting release of the next in the Sister Pelagia series, "Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk."

Akunin's new, late nineteenth century protagonist is a young, sometimes clumsy, freckled and bespectacled Russian Orthodox Bride of Christ who, we learn as we read, has already solved a few criminal mysteries at the behest of her bishop, the formidable, sometimes bombastic and contradictory, but wise Mitrofanii. This time, she tackles the mystery of who is poisoning specially bred bulldogs with distinctive pelt markings and especially slobbery jowls. At least, that is her initial assignment, but Pelagia soon stumbles upon a sequence of heinous human murders and must discover how everything fits together before she ends up a corpse too.

The narrator of "Sister Pelagia" is unnamed and "hovers" wherever the author chooses. One gets the impression this is an omniscient denizen of the province's humble capital town, Zavolzhsk. In the first third/half of the book, this narrator provides an abundance -- one can claim overabundance! -- of background information on the various, colorful, sometimes blackly comical, sometimes broodingly base, sometimes just plain demented individuals who people Zavolzhsk and the bishop's aunt's country estate. All this familiarization hinders the tale's flow for a time. But once Pelagia solves the first mystery, the novel swings into high gear plot-wise. The suspense is supreme when she must fight for her life, first on land, then in water. And the courtroom scenes provide a satisfying finale to the complex mysteries Akunin devised.

The author, whose perversely playful pen name, Akunin, means "wrongdoer" in Japanese; was born in the USSR and currently resides in Moscow. In an interview (appended in this volume), he commented relevantly, "The problems that Russia faced at the end of the nineteenth century are essentially the same problems we have in Russia today." Not by accident then, "Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog" contains a loose governmental and ethical/religious organization blueprint for the story's province that Akunin evidently thinks present-day Russian public institutions could do well to emulate. The novel contains a number of leisurely exchanges between characters about the nature and reach of good government and other social influences like the Orthodox Church. This aspect of the book lends it added gravitas and consequence.

"Sister Pelagia and the White Bull Dog" is compared to Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard" by Akunin's interviewer. There do exist similarities, and one definitely feels a classic "Russianness" in the style. By the way, translator Andrew Bromfield has, to this non-Russian-speaking reader, superbly conveyed the feeling we should get when reading this spry and wry Russian author. And reviewers have suggested that the intrepid Pelagia shares characteristics with famous fictional detectives Father Brown and Miss Marple. Agreed, although young Pelagia also reminds one of Sherlock Holmes who wasn't always himself either....

A wish list for future Sister Pelagia installments: a map is always welcome (even of a make-believe location), and a list of characters can't hurt...it is difficult to keep all the long Russian names straight.

This is a very rewarding read. Four and a half stars. [...]

In the midst of writing mysteries about detective Erast Fandorin, the author has also begun a new series. This one concerns a nun named Sister Pelagia, who is sent out by her Bishop to help solve mysteries and murders in a backward province of Imperial Russia. The action is fast, the plot never wavers, and the characters are all well-srawn. One interesting quirk to this story is that, when it is required, Sister Pelagia assumes the identity of her "sister", a widow who dresses and acts exactly as would an upper class member of the Russian nobility. I found the premise of this book fascinating, and the characters of both the good sister and her boss the bishop very believeable, therefore I am awaiting anxiously the next book in this marvelous series.

Boris Akunin is a well-regarded Russian author of suspense fiction, heretofore known for his Fandorin series, which concerns a part-James Bond, part-Hercules Poirot creation who nonetheless is strikingly original. SISTER PELAGIA AND THE WHITE BULLDOG marks the beginning of a new direction for Akunin and fittingly introduces Mortalis, a new imprint of literary mystery and suspense fiction for Random House.

We quickly learn from the unnamed, omnipresent narrator that Sister Pelagia is a sleuth in nun's habit, wishing to devote her life to God yet feeling stifled by the requirements of the order and by the role of women in early 20th century Russia. In addition, she is quite adept at solving mysteries, a skill that she hides from all except her supervisory bishop, who keeps her abilities a secret not only to preserve the good sister's customary role but also to keep her in reserve as a secret weapon in the political skirmishes that were the hallmark of the time.

The bishop generally has his hands full, what with an inspector from the Holy Synod coming to meddle in local affairs, the gruesome discovery of two decapitated bodies, and the bishop's aunt being in a terrible state as a result of the baffling death of one of her white bulldogs, a special breed that she and her late husband had nurtured through generations. The perpetrator of the canine murder is quickly determined, even if the motive isn't, and the unforeseen nexus that connects this and other events is slowly but surely sorted out in a climactic courtroom scene in which the good sister has a starring role.

It should be noted that Russian literature tends to be the antithesis of, say, a James Patterson work --- why use one word when pages will do? --- and occasionally, as even Akunin notes with a nod and a wink through his anonymous narrator, things seem to wander off track. All is revealed in good time, however, and along the way Akunin drops nuggets of dry, subtle humor amidst social and political commentary. Those who take their mysteries with great spoonfuls of explosions and karate may find this book wanting (though it does, particularly near the end, have its moments), and there is enough political intrigue and metaphor to provide a satisfactory feast.

Lovingly translated by Andrew Bromfield, SISTER PELAGIA AND THE WHITE BULLDOG is a welcome debut of a new series that hopefully will give Akunin the wider visibility in this country that his work deserves. And let's give some kudos to Random House as well for its brave launch of Mortalis. We'll happily look for more.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

As a fan of Boris Akunin's Erast Fandorin mysteries, I picked up _Pelagia and the White Bulldog_ to see what his new character, Sister Pelagia was all about. I have mixed feelings.

The mystery itself is a bit odd ... you feel the initial mystery: who has been killing white bulldogs, a new breed that is being developed in rural Russia - is solved the first third of the book; yet Akunin is merely toying with you, as the death of the dogs (while tragic) is merely an hors d'ouvre to larger and more sinister crimes. This was fantastic, and while it took a bit to get used to the fact that the crime Pelagia was working on was not necessarily that to which she was called for, it was worth the investment of sticking with the story in the end.

Sister Pelagia, a young nun and new protagonist, is likable and, as a previous reviewer noted, similar somewhat to Christie's Miss Marple, I have mixed feelings about her - I much prefer Erast Fandorin. However, the reason I give _The White Bulldog_ four stars is the tendency of Akunin to go off on tangents. For example, an entire chapter is devoted to a discussion of the village in which the crimes take place, without any real bearing on the mystery itself. Similarly, the final courtroom scene where the murder is unmasked is a bit dragged out (almost giving a blow-by-blow of the opening remarks of both prosecution and defense.) I could have done without these painful details, and found myself wanting to "get to the meat" of the story. Tighter editing (perhaps in the original) would have solved this.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the story. While I wait for the next Fandorin mystery to be translated, I can certainly entertain myself with this trilogy. A recommended read for mystery lovers.

The Sister Pelagia mystery series may not be as effortless a read to take in as Erast Fandorin, but it's well worth the effort. While the White Bulldog may be have a plot that is slightly less dynamic than the one Fandorin fans are used to, it is a refreshing change of pace. The language is beautiful, the characters are engaging and the sleuth and her posse (bishop Mitrofani and Berdichervsky) are at least as charismatic as Fandorin and Masa.
The series (there are only three novels in it) picks up the pace in The Black Monk and positively goes berserk in the Red Rooster, but the provincial charm of the White Bulldog is very enjoyable too.
Most Russian fans of Akunin consider the Pelagia trilogy to be a more workmanlike and even series than Fandorin, which has its peaks and valleys.

Boris Akunin made a huge splash in the mystery fiction world with his charming Erast Fandorin novels.His beautiful, stylish prose reminds the reader of the classic Russian literature.
He wasn't completely satisfied with this incredible feat, so he decided to write a trilogy featuring sister Pelagia, a Russian Orthodox nun, an homage to both Father Brown and Miss Marple, but much, much more than just that.
Reading this novel with marvelously smooth combination of mystery and irony was an immense pleasure. I am looking forward to the other two books in this short series, and eagerly hoping for more.

Switching from the rather addictive series with a character like Erast Fandorin at the helm is difficult as a reader, I could just imaginge that the act of creating a lady protagonist in a remote Russian setting would have been much more challenging to the writer. In summary its an act that has been pulled off with a load of panache. Sister Pelagia clicks and the tale is engrossing to the core with its share of thrills along the way.
The setting is poles opposite to the Fandorin series , located in Zavolshk which is a small town in rural Russia and opens with a rather lovable character of the reverend Mitrofanii who plays a rather active role in the entire story. The Reverend is bothered by the news from a beloved widowed aunt concerning the death of one of her bulldogs and he feels compelled to act on assuaging the widow's concerns. He presses into action a nun - Sister Pelagia who seems to be a rather unremarkable choice for the role through much of the book. She stumbles onto clues which make no sense for a while, and seems to fade into the backdrop till some of the key moments of the story. The tale soon takes on dark shades with the discovery of two headless bodies and the entry of the rather diabolical state representative Bubenstov and his assistant. The tale soon transforms into a struggle for the town's conscience with a liberal reverend pitched against the strait-jacketed state representative. Murders ensue (human and bulldogs) and the pace picks up rapidly. At stake is the widows rather large legacy with a set of dubious heirs and an English governess as suspects.Also at stake is the very character of the town. The two parallel tales come to a common conclusion in a rather electrifying courtroom climax where Sister Pelagia delivers the coup de grace. The reverend Mitrofanii provides an excellent counterfoil to Sister Pelagia - a rather dominant but bumbling patron to a meek but brilliant protege. As with the Fandorin series there is a good view of the Russian social setting which provides a decent atmosphere, except for the rather confusing series of names which suddenly crop up and it gets rather tedious keeping track of the bevy of characters that are introduced rather abruptly. All in all a great read

We are lucky to have translations of the works of the Russian writer Boris Akunin, In this whodunit, he transports the reader to the remote nineteenth century province of Zavolzhie. His engaging narrative is presented as a tale, written with humor and with references to nineteenth century literary styles, including Chekhov inspired drawing room scenes.

Akumin gives us two memorable characters, the humane and intelligent Bishop Mitrofanii and Pelagia, the young redheaded nun under his charge. Over time, the populous and minions of government of Zavolzhie have begun to defer to Mitrofanii as they recognize his superior advice. The arrival of the reactionary, ambitious, womanizing inspector for the Holy Synod, however, stirs the region's orderly waters. Under attack for not demonstrating sufficient zeal in the extermination of "alien creeds and the propagation of Orthodoxy," Mitrofanii's power is challenged when the bodies of two headless victims are discovered and the inspector fingers the barely Christianized local Zyts as the culprits. When more murders occur, first of prized white Russian bulldogs and then of three prominent Zavolzhie members, the bishop turns to Pelagia for help. Mitrofanii acknowledges that this seemingly meek and mild nun is "the genuine expert in the field of unraveling obscure secrets and piercing through false appearances." Pelagia reluctantly turns investigator, armed with only with her knitting needles, and sometimes in disguise as an elegant visitor from Moscow. Naturally, her unassuming insights finally uncover the culprit.

The book's description of Russia landscape and the ordinary Russian life of "poverty, drunkenness, ignorance, arbitrary rule, and brigands on the roads" is first rate. There are extensive details of the complex use of bribes, the workings of the legal system, and the growing strength of practices considered atheistic and exotic, such as the reading of prohibited newspapers, free discussion of parliamentarians, lingering beliefs of the Old Believers, and forced baptism of thousands of Bashkirs.

Four and a half stars. Boris Akunin has set off a new path with 'Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog'. (It appears that Erast Fandorin is a creature of the past. Akunin states that Fandorin had grown tired for him.) It is essential to start reading this series with this, the first book, as it introduces characters you will meet again in the Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk: A Novel (Mortalis).

The eponymous Pelagia is a nun in a late 19th century provincial Russian capital, but it is her detective work on behalf of Bishop Mitrofanii that interest Akunin's fans. Akunin weave a good mystery while introducing fascinating characters. Someone appears to be bumping off the beloved white bulldogs owned by the bishop's widowed and elderly and rich aunt - in an effort to push her into an early grave?

Pelagia is dispatched to get to the bottom of things. There's no shortage of suspects: the nihilist grandson, the devoted caretaker, an Englishwoman (recently named sole heiress), an "artistic" photographer, and the beautiful granddaughter. The imperial prosecutor is a nasty piece of work as well.

No mere mystery, Akunin delivers psychological profiles and a study of life in the Russian countryside in the tradition of Anton Chekov. Akunin also apparently includes references to contemporary Russian society that may make the book even more enjoyable to others more versed in the topic.

Highly recommended.

This is a great translation by Bromfield, if you can laugh reading this book you know you are in good hands. It is bit slow to take off but then rapidly gathers steam leaving you quite breathless.