imageedit_2_7442059401.png

Welcome to

Drink. Read. Repeat. 

It doesn't matter whether you're alarmingly caffeinated, drunk, or just exceptionally well-hydrated.

If you're a reader, you're home.

REVIEW: "The Lost Apothecary" by Sarah Penner

REVIEW: "The Lost Apothecary" by Sarah Penner

I’ve often commented — though admittedly mainly in jest — about how dangerous my search engine history could be, should a disaster befall my husband.

Search history.jpg

A former freelance writer and current fiction novelist, I have conducted internet searches on topics ranging from the benign — how a cash recycler works — to the inarguably damning — what type of evidence would be collected in a forensic investigation

Pair with this the fact that my husband, like many men, is prone to taking risky shortcuts and it becomes uncomfortably likely that, at some point, I will find myself answering for my late-night murder-y online queries.

I search these things out of necessity, not desire, though. So I ease my worry by reminding myself that I do have a valid reason for conducting said searches.

This isn’t like one of those Dateline episodes. You know the ones: the couple is on vacation and they both get shot during a “romantic” late-night stroll on the beach. The husband is shot in the head or the chest and dies instantly, but the wife survives with only a flesh wound to her right abdomen. 

Seems a lucky break for her. 

Until, that is, the police review her search engine history and find that, for the three weeks leading up to the trip, the wife searched things like, “Where to get shot and not die,” and, “Gunshot wound to left abdomen.” 

You know, the episodes that always leave you wanting to scream at the TV, “You couldn’t even go to the library to do these searches?!?!?”

Dateline.gif

In my case, though, I think I could easily explain away these searches, sharing with the police my timestamped manuscripts containing scenes clearly relevant to the information I searched. 

Because, sometimes, there are relevant reasons to need to know about scary stuff. 

In The Lost Apothecary, Caroline — one of three protagonists — very unexpectedly happens upon one of these relevant reasons. When what was initially planned as an anniversary trip to London turns into a way to escape her recent discovery of her husband’s infidelity, Caroline finds herself embroiled in a mystery. 

Quite by chance, she engages in a mudlarking expedition, searching for treasures in the river Thames. While she, like most fellow mudlarkers, doesn’t find anything of actual value, she does happen upon a tiny glass bottle. 

This bottle, which features an enigmatic etching of a tiny bear, sparks within her a curiosity that she thought long extinguished. It is a curiosity that she gives in to quite willingly, as doing so allows her an escape. She seeks to find the origins of this bottle and determine, ultimately, how it came to rest on the silty river bottom.

While the most likely — and least dramatic — possibility is that the bottle she has happened upon is some boring household trash, the item does, in fact, have a more rich backstory.

It once belonged to Nella, a London apothecary. 

When Nella became the proprietor of the apothecary shop — taking over for her mother following her death — she ran it quite typically, distributing cure-alls to the needy patrons. But, when she found herself wronged, she started a darker side business. 

From the hidden back room of her shop, she started to distribute poisons. But she would only dispense these noxious potions to patrons who fit a certain profile. They needed to be women, seeking to use the poisons on men who had wronged them.

As anyone would expect, though, this secret endeavor cannot stay hidden forever. And, when it is uncovered, it’s not just Nella, but the young apprentice, Eliza, who she reluctantly took under her wing, who will pay the price. 

There was much to love about this novel, which was a combination of historical fiction, slow-burn thriller, and classic mystery. 

One of the elements I most enjoyed was author Sarah Penner’s rich setting. 

Though she described London, both in the past and the present, economically enough that it didn’t slow the pace of this novel, she managed to truly capture the city. Readers can all but feel their ankles wobble, threatening to twist, as they trot down the rutted streets of this capital along with our protagonists. 

Similarly strong was her characterization. From young and stupid Eliza to exhausted and world-worn Nella, Penner built rich, dynamic characters with complex backstories and realistic motivations.

The only factor in this novel that may give readers pause is the believability of the synchronicity.

 Both in scenes set in the past as well as those set in the present, readers are required to suspend their disbelief and accept that an unlikely series of occurrences should take place in just the right order to set off an unlikely string of events, putting our characters on a mutual collision course.

As I often am, though, I was willing to put aside my doubts and just bask in the enjoyability of this truly unique tale.

Though I am not sure that the timing was entirely deliberate — particularly with COVID-19 publication delays gumming up the works — it is quite appropriate that this book hit shelves right at the start of women's history month. 

One of the dominant themes explored throughout this novel was the historical powerlessness of women. It was, in fact, because women were so long robbed of power, even the power to make their own choice, that the acts of the eponymous apothecary, though seemingly reprehensible, are so profoundly forgivable.

Somehow, while I have never found myself empathizing with one of the conniving spouses on Datelinewho get so rightly caught as a result of some sloppy Googling — I did find myself feeling for many of the murderous women in this novel. Their acts were ones of desperation. And I cannot imagine being in a situation in which your very real powerlessness left you rightly feeling like taking such an unthinkable action was your only viable option.

Fans of historical fiction — particularly those with a love of dual-timeline plot structure — will easily immerse themselves in this novel.

It earns 4 out of 5 cocktails.

4 out of 5.JPG
 

Do you like dual-timeline historical fiction? In recent years, I have come to adore it! Tell me your opinion about that plot structure in the comments, below.

I think I’m going to switch genres for my next read. Want to see what I pick? Subscribe to updates in the sidebar and follow me on Goodreads.

* Drink. Read. Repeat. is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. As an associate, we may earn commissions, at no cost to you, from qualifying purchases on Amazon.com

*I was provided a gifted copy of this title by the publisher*

REVIEW: "Win" by Harlan Coben

REVIEW: "Win" by Harlan Coben

REVIEW: "The Marriage Pass" by Briana Cole

REVIEW: "The Marriage Pass" by Briana Cole