The Apothecary Diaries Volumes 3-6 Novel Review

If you're keeping score at home, you already know that The Apothecary Diaries ' anime adaptation has been both remarkably faithful to the books and progressing at a pace that indicates that care is being taken with the source material. Given that progression, I fully expect the first half of the upcoming fourth season to cover the contents of novels five and six, with the other two volumes covered by this review making up season three. In a landscape where travesties like the anime adaptation of Chie Shinohara 's Red River is an ongoing crime against the source material, it's impressive just how well this series is treated. That doesn't mean that you can pick up book five if you've watched season three, because there are still nuances and events that are better expressed in prose form, but it's still a remarkable feat. These volumes are notable for taking Maomao outside the palace. While we've seen her go home briefly before, this is a rather different situation: Maomao's journeys are specifically tied to political events, with the trip to Gyokuyou's home province mandated by the emperor. This is significant because it shows that people in positions of power are recognizing her skill; Jinshi has since the white lead face powder, but now she's being acknowledged by more than just him. This substantially increases Maomao's reach, although it also risks taking her from her beloved apothecary duties – and if we're being honest, 'power' isn't really something Maomao's all that keen on. The mere fact that she disguises her beauty with false freckles says a lot about her priorities: they're to do what she likes and carry out her medical work to the best of her abilities. Helping powerful people is just an occupational hazard. This doesn't mean that Maomao's without emotion. She may go out of her way to not understand Jinshi's burgeoning feelings (and personal frog), but that's more a product of her own makeup. In volume five, there's a line that tacitly acknowledges that Maomao is aromantic, or perhaps demiromantic, meaning that she doesn't feel romantic attraction. (If she's demi, she doesn't feel it until she's gotten to really know the other person.) She frames it as not having the same emotions as other people, implying that it makes her feel like she's missing something that might make her 'normal.' It's an important moment in the story, both in terms of representation and in understanding where she's coming from. Maomao's not opposed to romance, and she takes a very practical view of sex. Some of this is the result of growing up in a brothel; there's no mystique around anything because it's all transactional. It's just not something she's interested in – or romance isn't; there are a few moments that make it clear that she's not asexual. Because Jinshi doesn't quite understand where she's coming from, her disdain for him is both appealing (she's not like other girls) and frustrating, and in volumes five and six he begins making it clear that he's not above playing dirty to get her. Interpersonal relationships play an important role in this series. Every plotline and action is driven by how two people interact, whether that's the horrors of the Shi clan or the political implications of the emperor naming his empress. These volumes are particularly good at showing that nothing in this series happens in a vacuum – everything is interconnected, and often figuring out the puzzle requires Maomao to figure out how. This is particularly well shown in the Shi clan storyline in book four, which brings together seemingly disparate events from earlier in the series. Every plot point builds on the one before it, creating a real sense of reading a single, long serialized story rather than one where the author is just being told to crank out more volumes. That being said, some moments drag, particularly in volume six, which is a transitional plotline. It does, however, give Lishu some much-needed time on the page. Before this point, she's mostly existed as a physical reminder of the previous emperor's predilections, a sad figure trapped in a life she didn't ask for and cannot leave. She's utterly without agency, which is striking in this series, since most of the other women manage to be seen and heard. It's a measure of how young she truly is, both physically and emotionally, that she's unable to break free of her mold, and volume six does finally start to remedy that. It also introduces a romance for her, which is both an interesting choice and a marker of how she's growing up; it's no longer creepy for someone to be attracted to her. Novels three through six continue the work begun in the first two. Maomao and Jinshi both become more vibrant as characters, and Hyuga sharpens her teeth on tougher plotlines; the conclusion of volume four's Shi clan storyline is genuinely upsetting. While the turn for the political (or more political) in volume five does feel like a bit of a comedown after the harrowing events of volume four, it still carefully builds both events and characters. If you've been enjoying the anime, it's worth picking up the novels as well – after all, who wouldn't want to relive 'The Frog or the Testicles' in its original form?