Apothecarius Argentum, Vol. 1

By Tomomi Yamashita
CMX, 192 pp.
Rating: Teen

Apothecarius Argentum seems tailor-made for fans of Pocohontas, Mulan and other post-modern princesses. Its heroine, Primula, is a plucky teenager dubbed the “Princess of Steel” by her subjects. Though she cleans up nicely, Primula would rather swing a sword or wolf down a second helping of dessert than master the finer points of etiquette. Her impetuous behavior frequently lands her in trouble, but her tart tongue and rash acts reflect her firm moral convictions and desire to help others.

Like all good Disney princesses, Primula has her very own Prince Charming: Argent, a dashing, silver-haired apothecary. Argent, we learn, was originally a slave in the royal household. Purchased for his remarkable ability to withstand poison, he served as Primula’s food taster until a confrontation with the king led to Argent’s expulsion from the castle. An assassination attempt and Argent’s newfound talent for making medicine, however, conspire to reunite princess and subject. As their mutual attraction grows, they’re faced with a unique challenge: Argent’s skin is toxic to the touch, making normal displays of affection potentially lethal for Primula.

With its attractive characters, novel premise, and Machiavellian intrigue, Apothecarius Argentum should be an unapologetic guilty pleasure. But the series suffers from several flaws, chief among them sloppy storytelling and clumsy dialogue that seesaws between Victorian formality and modified dude-speak. In one scene, for example, Primula arrives just in time to break up a fight between Argent and her father. She confesses that she found Argent by his personal “fragrance” (apparently basilisks emit a sweetly toxic odor), even though Argent had been dispatched on a covert mission miles from the castle. (Apparently Primula has the olfactory acumen of a shark or a bloodhound.) Coincidence plays an essential element in all drama, to be sure, but such “lucky for you I came along” moments should feel organic to the story, not expedient for the author.

This scene underscores my bigger beef with Apothecarius Argentum as well: its desire to have its grrrrl power cake and eat it, too. Primula, like her recent Disney sisters, is meant to be a strong figure. We see her sparring with her fencing instructor, riding horses, challenging her father’s authority, and eating with manly gusto, but we never see Primula apply her leadership or sword-fighting skills to actual conflict. Instead, Primula falls into a swoon at the drop of a hat, necessitating yet another rescue by her favorite apothecary. The underlying message seems to be that pushups are grand for building self-esteem, but nothing beats having an on-call McDreamy of your own.