BOOK REVIEW: The Hound of the Baskervilles - Arthur Conan Doyle

In a slightly better played hand by the English Literature department of Glos, we were given 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' to read for the second week of our Crime Fiction module.

Now, I first read this novel when I was about 10, and couldn't sleep for nights afterwards.
I have now read it for the second time at the age of 20, and still couldn't sleep (especially with any limbs hanging outside of the covers, you never know when a phosphorescent hound is going to come looking for a nibble of your toes).

I'm not of weak constitution, I can sit through most gore without flinching, but there is something in this book that genuinely did unsettle me. I might just be being a girl, but there you go.

The story is one of Conan Doyle's, and indeed, Sherlock Holmes' better known adventures, traversing the moors of... well... Dartmoor. Holmes' idiosyncrasies and eccentricities really come to light in this mystery - making him literature's steadfastly most loved detective.

When Holmes and Watson are accosted by a Doctor who is worried about what to say to his new guest, Henry, the recent beneficiary of 'murdered' Mr Charles Baskerville's estate. It is told that the Baskerville family have long been the victims of a supernatural curse, where a distant ancestor through his vile misdeeds unleashed a real 'hound of hell'. Many of the family have met their gruesome end in mysterious circumstances, sparking the interest of Holmes and his protege.

With a cast of bizarre characters, including a selection of enthusiasts of everything from butterflies to ancient skulls, this is without a doubt one of the most intelligently constructed crime novels I've ever read. And yanno', you've got to start with your classics...

This gets a rating of 4 kangaroos.

And no, the Butler didn't do it.

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