This was significantly worse than the first story, mostly because there was almost no mystery. Stuff was presented as Holmes discovered it, and he never made any mistakes. Disappointing. ( )

After being disappointed with "A Study in Scarlet", I decided to tackle a second Holmes novel in the hopes that things would improve. Sadly, they didn't. I'm not beaten yet - I'll be attempting "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" as my next train-to-work novel - but so far, this doesn't do anything for me.

There are some good elements here: Holmes of course is an enjoyable response to the crime fiction that existed at the time. His methods of deduction, while sometimes ponderous, are always clever. Unfortunately, there's very little else to be said for this book.

Watson continues to be an uninteresting narrator; the supporting characters are mostly forgettable, with the exception (oddly) of the police characters, who so far I have found pleasant; and Holmes himself, as many other reviewers seem to note, is at his least likeable here. Obviously, we're supposed to be somewhat confounded by his aloof personality, but his treatment of other members of the human race is extremely off-putting. Like the 2000s versions - Dr. House, etc. - it's supposedly tempered by his desire to help the innocent and fearful, but really the fact that he only seems to have a heart for small children just leads me to assume he is a sociopath.

And then there is the mystery itself: here, Conan Doyle reveals himself as mostly a pulp writer, it seems. Like "A Study in Scarlet", this mystery is decidedly outlandish: cannibalistic midgets, wooden legs, etc, etc. Yes it's escapism and I accept that, but the problem is these mysteries are almost tailor-made for Sherlock Holmes. No human being could possibly be expected to guess from a simple murder that it involved so many elaborate contrivances and foreign devils. It seems strange to say it, but if Holmes could instead investigate a (complex) drawing-room mystery or the like, I might be drawn into the work more, as this would require him to piece together clues within my human scope of comprehension. I'm not asking for an easy mystery, just one that has more of a human element.

Anyway, I'll be interested to continue reading the Holmes books (although I may slow down, as I do have the rest of my life), and perhaps find out why he has become such a mythical figure! ( )

I liked this more than Doyle's first Sherlock novella, at least the writing and most of the character development. The first page was a shock though, with Sherlock being portrayed as a morphine addict. I wish Doyle had not gone there with this character, especially if it was for shock value. Evidently Doyle wrote this after a chance encounter with Oscar Wilde so I wonder how much of the story, if any, was influenced by that meeting. ( )

The second novella recounting the exploits of Sherlock Holmes shares a peculiar structural feature with the first, A Study in Scarlet: a tale within the tale. The second, told at length by the freshly apprehended culprit, is the crime behind the crime, the reason why he intrepidly executed vengeance. This doesn’t free him of guilt for the fresher crime, nor does he expect it to, but it casts what has been done in a softer light.
The earlier crime occurs elsewhere — exotic locales like the Utah territory and the Indian subcontinent.
Not that any of this impresses Holmes. At the end of the tale of the Agra treasure, he only remarks to the wooden-legged Jonathan Small about the more recent crime: “You brought your own rope. That I did not know.”
A second shared feature, more prominently on display here than in the first book, is the blithe racist remarks. Watson, who records the Holmes cases, unreflectingly shares the prejudices of his day and sees the world, or at least its population, in strictly black-and-white terms. The blacks include the inhabitants of India, whose revolt against their imperial masters seems incomprehensible.
I don’t suggest that the Holmes canon be subjected to the same mutilation that Dahl and others are undergoing. This book reflects the attitudes of London 1890; let it stand.
This is particularly true because the tale subverts its own racial attitudes in a way that escapes Watson and may have also escaped Doyle. “The Four” of the title are four men who have been cheated. Small is one; the other three are Sikhs. These four hold faith with each other. They are robbed of their (stolen) treasure by a white man, a British officer, no less.
Book banners might also want to know that the book opens with Holmes injecting himself with a seven percent solution of cocaine. Reading this for the first time as an impressionable thirteen-year-old didn’t turn me into an intravenous drug user. ( )

The 2nd story immediately introduces Holmes's needle dependence on cocaine, which he uses when overcome with ennui at the absence of a case to solve. One finally comes in the form of Mary Morstan (Watson's future wife), and we are taken to the outskirts of London, to flashbacks in India, and on a suspenseful boat chase down the Thames, all while viewing the negative effects of Victorian social status and colonialism. #whataride ( )