Russian Nun with a Twist

In Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog, Boris Akunin has written a marvelous mystery mirroring Russian literature of the nineteenth century. Set in a provincial town far removed from Saint Petersburg, the first chapters come straight from Chekhov, with the complicated relationships of family and town-status laid out in chessboard scenes of death-bed rantings, dinner-party ravings, and late-night ramblings, along with tete a tetes and rendezvous of lovers, would-be-lovers, and wannabe-murderers. Sister Pelagia is a superstitious, spunky, and most of all, highly-observant young nun who helps out the local bishop when asked, even donning the clothes of a society woman to trick townspeople into letting down their guard and dishing out the dirt.

Akunin takes the conflicts of religion, class, and identity that percolate throughout the great Russian novels of the nineteenth century and lets them loose to rage and storm amidst a plot of dead dogs and decapitated heads; meanwhile, the underlying question of moral imperative roils and boils. Will personal ambition and evil desire prevail? Or will societal order and justice sweep in at the last moment and take care of business? Nothing happens quickly in Sister Pelagia and the White Bulldog until all of a sudden, everything happens and all societal, political, and religious expectations are overturned. No worries: the righteous do prevail and the evil-doers will pay but first, love, passion, ambition, and treachery must be allowed to play, preen, and parade across the stage. Long-winded at times, and heavy on details of relationships, past histories, and deepest-held secrets, nevertheless Sister Pelagia is a good read, fun and engaging, and thoroughly redolent of a good old Russian novel.