Top positive review
Spooky goings-on in First World War Kent... and far too much cherry brandy!
2 January 2016
Trelawney Hart is a former child prodigy who spends his days trying to pickle his brain in cherry brandy in order to remove all traces of his lost wife. He seems an unlikely person for the creator of Sherlock Holmes to engage to investigate a spiritualist demonstration on the sands of Broadstairs in Kent, but Sir Arthur Conan Doyle does just that. The wrecked condition of Hart’s body makes it touch and go as to whether he will witness the denouement of his own story, as the reader is left to wonder if he will uncover some of what is going on before he coughs up a lung. Or two.
The tale is set in 1917, but the War hovers around like a London fog, influencing the characters without directly touching them. It is true that the massive loss of life did encourage a belief in spiritualists among the bereaved, as well as many ‘backroom shysters’ determined to prey on them for profit. And Trelawney is also haunted, the presence of his wife never far away:
"It is far more painful to awake from a beautiful slumber and – in that brief period when the continuity of life is still lost to you – to reach across the bed for a hand that is not there."
So, have the years of drinking sufficiently dulled one of England’s most famous intellects to the point of being unable to unravel the facts? Will he be forced to admit that there are things in the world that logic alone can’t explain? Rest assured that even if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is picking up the (considerable) tab for the adventures, Trelawney won’t be able to resist little digs at his benefactor. The Hound of the Baskervilles one is priceless.