I find it rather ironic that the first Sherlock Holmes story I read is his last, chronicling his death in the pursuit and capture of an exceptionally brilliant criminal mastermind. Perhaps this was the best place to start though, because I was struck by how emotional I became even in just a few short pages. I was shocked, dismayed, and deeply sad as Watson relayed the final events of Holmes’ life with that clinical English stiff upper lip attitude that belies the true feeling below the surface. But don’t think that I was bawling my eyes out here; I did actually enjoy the story for other reasons!
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has a distinct style that moves with a rapidity and wit that is highly appealing. I fall in love with Holmes through that quick style, his sarcasm and quips making me chuckle a bit under my breath while I read. Granted that also earns me some strange looks, but what can you do? The writing is straightforward, driven in equal parts by a strong plot and careful elaboration of characters. Every villain is so carefully created, subtly evil and more like Holmes than anyone would willingly admit. T

So, a short review for a short story, but one that packs a deep emotional punch and perfectly demonstrates the world that Doyle has created, the one to which fans keep coming back to time and time again.
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