Nope. I think that I can now honestly say that I am not a fan of Sherlock Holmes. Give me all of the re-tellings, please, but spare me the prototype. I tried. I really, really tried. I should not have to try so hard.
While I did appreciate A Study in Scarlet, the terrible (and worst book of the year for me) The Sign of Four took way too much time out of my life that I will never get back. Sadly, I am afraid that this gothic mess couldn’t convince me to stick with any more Sherlock Holmes originals. I finally read the source material for some of my favorite novels (Lady Sherlock series and Affair of the Mysterious Letter). I do not need to continue.
Let’s see if I can sum this one up as succinctly as my The Sign of Four review. Man (surname Baskerville) inherits family mansion after previous relative dies under mysterious circumstances. Said mansion and family are “cursed” with a big flame shooting hell hound. Friend of newly appointed owner of mansion/curse seeks help from Sherlock Holmes to solve the mystery of the “mysterious death” of the former mansion owner and save his friend from the same fate.
Did I mention the mansion was surrounded by moor? Lots and lots of moor. More moor than you will ever need to read about. Ever. Throw in some antagonistic neighbors and a bog situation that is constantly swallowing sheep and family pets and there you have it.
The titular hound was a let down after all of the build up. Wondering if there really was an actual hell hound or if a malevolent steampunk-y dog-shaped apparatus would emerge from the yew hedge and rip everyone’s throats out, was the only thing that kept me reading. I was not impressed when the “hound” made it’s appearance. Too little, too late.
So. I’m done with Sherlock, folks. A Study in Scarlet was fine, but The Sign of Four was atrocious and Hound of the Baskervilles was a resounding MEH. My tolerance for any further Arthur Conan Doyle was severely compromised by book number two. Book three did not revive it. Sayonara, “real” Sherlock Holmes.