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Fiction.
Literature.
Mystery.
Historical Fiction.
HTML:In the eerie wasteland of Dartmoor, Sherlock Holmes summons his devoted wife and partner, Mary Russell, from her studies at Oxford to aid the investigation of a death and some disturbing phenomena of a decidedly supernatural origin. Through the mists of the moor there have been sightings of a spectral coach made of bones carrying a woman long-ago accused of murdering her husbandâ??and of a hound with a single glowing eye. Returning to the scene of one of his most celebrated cases, The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes and Russell investigate a mystery darker and more unforgiving than the moors themselves, in Laurie R. King's The Moor… (altro)
The whole sub genre of Sherlock Holmes-type mysteries is by its very nature highly intellectual, what with all the deductive reasoning, but this entry in the Mary Russell series is especially so. I was quite tickled to realize that big chunks of the mystery here were to be solved through clues gleaned from extensive reading. I love that Mary can be very--perhaps most--helpful to Holmes from her cozy fireside wingback. It is a position to be envied, and aspired to: armchair detective. Of course there is a fair amount of traipsing that occurs in this story, as Russell and Holmes slog up, down and across the moor, a place unique and moody, gloomy and beautiful, inspiring and deadly. The descriptions are rich and gorgeous, and make me want to see it for myself. I hope it exists as Laurie King writes it here, because it sounds like a weird and wonderful landscape. ( )
In the eerie wasteland of Dartmoor, Sherlock Holmes summons his devoted wife and partner, Mary Russell, from her studies at Oxford to aid the investigation of a death and some disturbing phenomena of a decidedly supernatural origin. Through the mists of the moor there have been sightings of a spectral coach made of bones carrying a woman long-ago accused of murdering her husband--and of a hound with a single glowing eye. Returning to the scene of one of his most celebrated cases, The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes and Russell investigate a mystery darker and more unforgiving than the moors themselves. ( )
While enjoyable to some degree, the pace is rather slow and for the most part, suspense is missing throughout. Ms. King is a great storyteller and has in some ways mastered the Conan Doyle approach, though this left me somewhat bored while reading it due to far too much dialog and lack of forward motion. ( )
Mary Russell is summoned by Sherlock Holmes to Dartmoor to help investigate a mysterious death that is said to be heralded by a phantom coach carrying long-dead noblewoman over the moors. Around the dead body was it oversized paw prints…
This book is especially interesting since it brings Sherlock Holmes back to Dartmoor, the place where The Hound of the Baskervilles cases took place. It’s quite a dark and chilly tale, and the dark and deadly moor adds a special atmosphere to the tale. Like the previous books a 5-star book! ( )
If Sherlock Holmes had taken a wife -- which happens to be the cheeky premise of the enchanting, if unorthodox, historical mysteries of Laurie R. King -- he could not have chosen better than Mary Russell, an Oxford scholar with brains and humor. . . . Sherlockians have their choice of being amused or affronted by these artful embellishments on the Holmes canon, and few will appreciate the curiously wan characterization of the great detective. But there's no resisting the appeal of King's thrillingly moody scenes of Dartmoor and her lovely evocation of its legends.
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"When I obtained a holiday from my books, I mounted my pony and made for the moor." -- A Book of Dartmoor
Dedica
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For Ruth Cavin, editor extraordinaire, with undying thanks and affection. A blessing on you and your house
Incipit
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The telegram in my hand read:
RUSSELL NEED YOU IN DEVONSHIRE. IF FREE TAKE EARLIEST TRAIN CORYTON. IF NOT FREE COME ANYWAY. BRING COMPASS.
HOLMES
Citazioni
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Why was it, I reflected irritably, that Holmes' little adventures never took us to luxury hotels in the south of France, or to warm, sandy Caribbean beaches?
I decided that the butler must have worked in Ketteridge's house for some time, since he was not only resigned to his employer's hasty willingness to do away with his services by opening doors for himself, but he did not even react to receiving an apology from his employer. Perhaps, I amended my diagnosis, he had merely worked for Americans before.
The horse was as solid and without frills as his name, capable of two gaits: a leisurely stroll and a spine-snapping trot. An experimental urge towards a canter met with a slowing of the trot and a laying back of the ears, a clear message that he was going as fast as he could, damn it, and if I didn't like it, I could just get down and run myself.
it began to feel almost as if there were another person in the rock shelter with us—or if not a person, then at least a Presence. It did not seem to me, as Holmes had suggested, an evil presence, nor even a terribly powerful one, but I thought it old, very old, and patient. It felt, I decided, as if the moor itself were holding watch with us.
Ultime parole
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We tucked the old man in with travelling rugs and placed a hot brick beneath his shoes, and with Holmes at his side and myself driving, we took the Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould up onto the moor for one last earthly look at that region he loved best in all the world.
Fiction.
Literature.
Mystery.
Historical Fiction.
HTML:In the eerie wasteland of Dartmoor, Sherlock Holmes summons his devoted wife and partner, Mary Russell, from her studies at Oxford to aid the investigation of a death and some disturbing phenomena of a decidedly supernatural origin. Through the mists of the moor there have been sightings of a spectral coach made of bones carrying a woman long-ago accused of murdering her husbandâ??and of a hound with a single glowing eye. Returning to the scene of one of his most celebrated cases, The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes and Russell investigate a mystery darker and more unforgiving than the moors themselves, in Laurie R. King's The Moor
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