Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 4

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles* [HOUN] by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 4

(*First published in a serialized fashion by The Strand Magazine August 1901 - April 1902. SPOILERS AHEAD)

It's time to meet Sir Henry Baskerville, and no matter how many times we meet upon re-reading, I am surprised by his appearance. In my mind's eye, Sir Henry is a big Hoss-looking fair-complected fellow with ruddy cheeks. Instead, "a small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face." Gotcha... Houdini. Although most likely not because it wasn't until 1920 that ACD and he met over what would become opposing ends of the Spiritualism debate.

Any ol' how, Sir Henry is down one new boot and up one ominous anonymous note of warning. The note was sent to the Northumberland Hotel, a place he'd only be known to be staying at if being followed. Its contents were cut from the previous day's Times edition and pieced together. Cut out with a pair of nail-scissors and affixed into place via gum, not glue. Holmes knows his newspaper prints and spots the Times font, see. As alluded to, he also can differentiate gum from glue. I'm not set to focus on either of those things though.

But nail-scissors. Or bent nail scissors as they appeared in The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge [WIST] (1908). From that case "Short as the two snips are, you can distinctly see the same slight curve in each." But the Romans had bronze nail clippers by around the 3rd or 4th century and in the late 1800s patents filed on both sides of the pond seem quite the same as our modern technological conveniences. So why are so many folks seemingly running around London then with nail-scissors, or at least have them so much more at hand than other scissors?

First I should come clean that my mother actually owned a pair I'd occasionally allegedly steal when I was in a paper cutting jam such as, hypothetically, a grade-school collage art protect. I also recall seeing them at a store just recently while trying to find a pair of mustache scissors. That said, this Holmes trick seems a bit stale, not here in Hound, but by there later in Wisteria. Maybe not stale, but lazy. Lazy-stale. It's one of those things plugged in to demonstrate how fine-toothed the comb of H is while squeezing the last drops out of a thing.

Also, why the deuce does it matter here? We get it was a rush job via other clues.

Alas, it bothered me a decent tick but ahead we bravely forge to see H somewhat flub a chase and then employ a kid to dig through the trash of twenty-three hotels, looking for the remnants of a swiss-cheesed newspaper. A mission he admits most likely won't end in success. So an H focused on something unnecessary, followed by a botch, and then a wild goose chase which costs 33 shillings. There were 20 shillings in a pound. A pound today worth a bit over one USD. Why do I waste everyone's time with stuff like that?

This chapter is a bit of a spastic mess and it's no surprise then, the next chapter's title. The way they keep Henry in the dark for a bunch of it is odd and makes the surrounding dialog and scenario seem unnatural. The one saving grace of it all is one which exists in my headcanon alone, or at least not in the text, and that is Holmes linking in his mind how a boot would most likely be beneficial to a quite earthly and not otherworldly hound. I think he knew for sure at that point that he wasn't matching wits with Satan and, of course, that only man sends letters and wears fake beards.

It's just people hounding people and perhaps this is a whole chapter of H letting his guard down. Or at least that's maybe what this is partly 'aboot.' A bit of Canadian accent and footwear humor puts a ribbon on my thoughts here. Although maybe this wraps it up better--or worse--regarding the boot: "It seems a singularly useless thing to steal." said Sherlock Holmes. "I confess that I share Dr Mortimer's belief that it will not be long before the missing boot is found." I can't wait to read the fifth chapter, Three Broken Threads.

ADDITIONAL HOUN:
Thoughts on Chapter 3
Thoughts on Chapter 5

::: very :::

Online sources for this article: The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (HOUN, WIST), Wikipedia (Nail clipper)

A Brief Set of Cases for The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes (Making a Case for the Case-Book)

A Brief Set of Cases for The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes (Making a case for the Case-Book)

A bit of light reading here, wherein I quite briefly posit reasons why each of the cases in The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes is well-worth a read (or even a second read). I at times bemoan the common views of this collection which place it well below the other collections. While there are some spots in the Casebook which are written rather looser in comparison, I also feel much of this criticism is over-done. It's sometimes as if a dead horse is lying in state and every Sherlockian feels the need to kick it as they pass-by.

Again, I'll state not begrudgingly at all, that some are lesser but also, as with pizza, even bad Sherlock is good Sherlock. Some actually read, as I've said elsewhere, as if more along the lines of The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes by Adrian Doyle (and partly John Dickson Carr), rather than being penned by his pops. No, I am not leveling any sort of accusation there. When I say loose, I of course mean less tight. As I said, this is light reading, this post. A real fluff piece.

Because sometimes Sherlockian Scholarship, my own included, gets so steeped in its own pursuit of tongue-in-cheek scholarly ways, it forgets to have healthy goofy fun. I like having goofy fun. Why, just yesterday, I took a walk. This and that should prove that light-hearted whimsy is no stranger at all to I. Still, it is good to have some semblance of rules in all things, if for no other reason than for the comfort of my readership--which is a thing I find of utmost importance to offer.

In keeping with rules, what to expect, and above all else said comfort, here's how I will posit my case for the Casebook: I (again) in keeping with light reading, will simply supply the name of each adventure in its turn. This will be followed by a few selling-points with which I will attempt to tantalize you into taking that first or another look into the tale. This will also hopefully place us all on the sunny side of the street, a place that's good to be now and again.

So sans any further ado, grab some grey-tinted or otherwise sun-glasses and...

The Adventure of the Illustrious Client
A rogue, Chinese pottery, and a woman scorned!

The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier
Holmes narrates, familial intrigue, and leprosy!

The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone
A dummy, a phonograph, and a royal jewel!

The Adventure of the Three Gables
Robbery, a tell-all book, and a trip around the world!

The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire
VAMPIRE!, a weird kid, and a Giant Rat of Sumatra!

The Adventure of the Three Garridebs
Funny money, an elaborate rouse, and Holmes likes Watson*!

The Problem of Thor Bridge
A hot-blooded Latina, a Rube Goldberg-ian suicide, and a set-up!

The Adventure of the Creeping Man
Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, and monkey 'roids!

The Adventure of the Lion's Mane
I got nothing here.

The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger
Circus folk, a lion attacks, and a murderous love triangle!

The Adventure of Shoscombe Old Place
H and W go fishing, then to the ponies, and then to a crypt!

The Adventure of the Retired Colourman
Jealousy, madness, and fresh paint!

Now go READ MORE. 

::: very :::

* as a friend.

1st and 15th Podcast "Five-Hair Sandwich"

1st and 15th Podcast "Five-Hair Sandwich"

As you hopefully are aware, I co-host this 1st & 15th podcast with Phil Kurut of Comedy Cigars Music. Have for a bit now. As you probably don't know, I've been pretty badly under the weather lately. By posting this recent 115 episode, I am both bringing further awareness to the show, as well as taking somewhat of a break from writing new content until the fog thoroughly clears.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN ON SPOTIFY

Nevertheless, in this turn, as Phil puts it in the third person: "Phil rants about the new She-Hulk series, Kap has an unfortunate encounter with a delicious sandwich, which might have held a spiritual relic, and they answer a dumb Facebook question." WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE? For the sake of absolute clarity, this pod rarely if at all deals with the Tobacciana | Sherlockiana focus of Kaplowitz Media.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN ON SPOTIFY

But I think you might get a kick out of it anyway. Especially if you like listening to random stories being swapped by two middle-aged buddies. You know, a podcast. If you do, by all means, dig into the other offerings. Heck, maybe even rate, review, or tell a chum. We're also available on many other podcast catchers such as Google and Apple Podcasts, et al. I figured Spotify was the most universal.

::: very :::

Bocock Cigars Signature Edition in Preview

Bocock Cigars Signature Edition in Preview

WRAPPER: Ecuadorian Sumatra
BINDER: Nicaraguan Habano
FILLER: Nicaraguan

FORMAT: Robusto (5.5x50)
ORIGIN: AJ Fernandez, Nicaragua
INTENSITY: Med. full/Full

NOTES:

[Look for a full review shortly.]

(Expected release: late July 2022)

Vividly succulent notes of dense earth penetrated by chocolate, black pepper, and licorice caressed in thick swaths of well-worked leather. Underpinned by harmonious bits of cumin and paprika. A cup of Cuban coffee. Structured toasted-creamily by deft chicory. No prob, Bob performance. Well-rounded and excitingly well done.

::: very :::

Kaplowitz Media. Cigars of the Month for June 2022

Kaplowitz Media. Cigars of the Month for June 2022

The Kaplowitz Media.
CIGARS OF THE MONTH
for June 2022

(listed in alphabetical order)
(names are links to full reviews).

AJ Fernandez New World Connecticut

Balmoral Anejo XO Oscuro

Oliva Serie V Liga Especial

::: very :::

Arturo Fuente Cigars Especiales Cazadores Natural in Review

Arturo Fuente Cigars Especiales Cazadores Natural in Review

WRAPPER: Sungrown
BINDER: Dominican
FILLER: Dominican

FORMAT: Toro
ORIGIN: Dominican Republic (Tabacalera A Fuente y CIA)
INTENSITY: Medium/Medium-full

NOTES:
Coffee beans | Hardwood | Dark chocolate

Here, the whole is indeed greater than the sum of its parts. The coffee beans are Italian+ roasted, you know, burnt. A non-descript hardwood is a tick scorched. Dark chocolate is waxy until the second-third, then it becomes a rather nice semi-sweet chocolate note with vanilla bean addition. All is quite smoky, almost to a liquid smoke faux extent.

But it together works into a serviceable cigar, most likely through no small part blending alchemy. A little bit of molasses becomes buckwheat honey on its toasted hearty grains end. Not a lot of complexity, but a neat-o evolving transition toward sweetness. Goodly length'd bitter-sweet finish with slight salty charcoal attachment. Nicely balanced although a tick rudimentarily-so.

Some cigars grade sneaky-high because they simply don't (much) transgress on the palate and offer-up no real performance issues. This one, for instance. The highlight of its construction is a lovely draw. The lowlight of its combustion is constantly conical ash. The burn is mostly even and when not, is self-corrected. The pacing is super nice. This stick keeps it real. Perhaps even real, real.

TASTE: B
DRAW: A-
BURN: B+
BUILD: B+

FINAL GRADE: B+
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

POSTSCRIPT:

People all wrapped up in Sherlock Holmes sometimes debate amongst themselves what it was exactly that Watson was referring to as his 'Bull pup.' A dog (but then where did it go?), a gun, a temper? However, most couldn't care less and even I have trouble seeing why it matters much. Also, a friend in the business of boxing media asked me what regular people are excited about in the sport. I don't think it's a potential Bivol-Beterbiev match that has casuals all abuzz.

The truth is that most people might maybe watch a Holmes flick if it's on, maybe they read some Adventures as a kid. Maybe they'll plan to watch the big heavyweight fight or cheer along if a lighter division contest pops up on ESPN. This is fine. It's all fine. Not everyone is a boxing nut, Sherlockian, or cigar geek. Some folks just smoke inexpensive mixed-filler cigars which are readily available, sans any imbibing regularity. I occasionally like reviewing those types of cigars, so I did here.

::: very :::

Looking at a Doncella Cigars Print Advertisement from 1965

Looking at a Doncella Cigars Print Advertisement from 1965

It's all so brown and black, wherever the eye falls. The former hue forms a solid backdrop. What shade of brown? Think 1965. Brown, brown--with an under-hue of rusty-orange--not the goldenrod-heavy french mustard one. (In 1965 in my mind's eye, there exists those two browns only.) A flock of females surrounds one guy, all of them wearing black (which is odd symbolism maybe). He's also in black or perhaps a quite dark charcoal suit and black tie, with a white dress shirt.

A Doncella sticks out of his stiff lips and from under his smiling, delightfully resigned, playing it cool as a cuke (or trying to) green eyes. Aren't you envious? Green mistletoe overhead. Christmas work party? Problematic. The women surround him, staring at his smoke. He looks a freshly groped subtle-bit of disheveled. Two women are on his right, three on his left, with the lowest on the loaded side scrunched-in toward under his tie's smaller than I'd have guessed knot. Nice placement. Natural... if such a thing could be said of this such a thing.

The full text runs: "This year create a mild sensation--give him Doncella cigars." That in black font and then continued in a manner much more like the other 1965 brown: " He may be mobbed by admiring senoritas (drawn to the mild Havana aroma like moths to a flame). But he probably won't mind." I'd like to take a moment to clearly state that Doncella cigars is not, nor ever was or will be, a sponsor of Kaplowitz Media. Of note, is that Groucho Marx advertised for Doncella. Of further note is that Marx always gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I hit on composition a tick already with the layout of las senoritas, but also, the whole thing is agonizingly off-center to his right. I get that, but what I don't get is why it's to the extent of chopping off a part of one gal on that side, and not the other. It's like walking into a TGI Fridays in 1999 and fighting the urge to make evened-out all the pictures hung purposefully-crooked in order to foster an environment of shenanigans and fun. OK, it's not that zanily bad.

Another note is that this picture being discussed is roughly only half of the ad. Surprise! (The top half.) We'll get to the other half in a tick. I still wanna linger. The cigar is lit, or more likely was lit, as there is no smoke but there is a small stack of ash. So what aroma, pray tell, are they pretending to so appreciate? And why would they be appreciating that aroma which doesn't exist and doing-so with their eyes? They all look at the cigar--not one acts as if her olfactory has been at all stimulated. What is this, amateur hour?

Anyway, that aforementioned block of text occupies the top half of the bottom half. The whole bottom half has a white background that makes it look as though all on it is floating in a sort of vacuous void. The thin horizontal brown line at the bottom ties it together only some. It should be thicker, but the real problem is that instead of letting the same colored line as the upper-half's backdrop tie it together, it's busted up by a red 'DONCELLA' in huge by comparison letters and then right after in black "Guaranteed by Player's" Oh, boy.

The twixt that is the product photo (still untethered on the white background) segment. That and some product copy. Three sizes and a box. The bands are the same DONCELLA red so that's nice. I don't like that they're still in their cellophane, though. Or that there is such a divide between halves. The box is a simple cabinet-style thing with more of that red reading "CORONETS" and some gold embellishments. This whole thing is sneaky subtly a hot mess of subdued all over the place stuff.

"Rolled in London from a blend of Havana leaf and other choice cigar leaf." is pitched in italics to the left of the photos. I suppose I can admire this as a decent ad, with a proper to those days hook, and a goodly amount of information. But wait a minute! To whom is this written? No woman shopping for her man, that's for sure. No man shopping for his buddy (he'd keep them and the senoritas for himself). No kids are liking the sound of this for their dad unless they're helping him shop for a new mom. It must be written for the purchaser--but then it makes no sense.

Are these women even Latinas? As far as a bit of framed wall-hanging vintage, this somewhat misses the mark on the first blush. On the second blush, it's not even in the ballpark, but maybe it is because it didn't come near hitting it out of the ballpark.

::: very :::

Parts were lightly edited 6/24 - Kap.

AJ Fernandez Cigars New World Connecticut in Review

AJ Fernandez Cigars New World Connecticut in Review

WRAPPER: Connecticut Shade
BINDER: Mexican San Andres
FILLER: Nicaraguan, Brazilian

FORMAT: Corona Gorda (5.5x46)
ORIGIN: Nicaragua
INTENSITY: Mild-medium/Medium

NOTES:
Spiced cream | Leather | White pepper

A supremely consistent blend. This is not to be taken as linear or uneventful, as there are plenty of nuances and depth, many subtle complexities. Simply it remains much the same from beginning to end. Quite creamy and within that aspect, softly spicy. Cinnamon and clove whisper but not weakly-so. Heavy butternut vibes. Everything seems wrapped in a thick well-worked and smooth leather. White pepper, ground fine, keeps the profile from being wishy-washy.

A pale melon fruitiness and white flower tandem swirls between that and the underneath chicken coop earthiness. A tick of kaolin clay is there. Nice hefty smoke and moderate-lengthed sweet not cloying finish. Almost ends in a fresh near-minty note, really. For all the cushiness, there is a decent structure that seems inherently achieved sans contrived wooden framework. All this plus a dee-lish room-note of plushly sweet-savory goodness. Tranquil. Also a hard-to-quantify slumbering machismo.

Insofar as construction and combustion, AKA performance, it's difficult to spot any issue at all. A carefree experience in keeping with the tranquility already mentioned. There seems little that AJF can't offer. Draws superbly, and holds hella ash, bruv. Zero hard/soft spots and near-invisible seams. The burn-line does get a half-bit jagged at times but quickly self-corrects. The mascara line does err toward thick. Smoke out-put is voluminous and kind. The pacing is, again, tranquil. Understated.

TASTE: A-
DRAW: A
BURN: A-
BUILD: A

FINAL GRADE: A-
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast | Episode 6

The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast | Episode 6

I take a look-see at an Arturo Fuente 858 Flor Fina Candela and share some undergoing and upcoming Kaplowitz Media. projects. Simply press play below to listen. Also please consider subscribing to The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast on your preferred podcast player. Rate and review while you're at it.

::: very :::

Oliva Cigars Serie V Liga Especial in (Annotating a Note) Review

Oliva Cigars Serie V Liga Especial

WRAPPER: Nicaraguan
BINDER: Nicaragua
FILLER: Nicaragua

FORMAT: 554 Belicoso
ORIGIN: Tabaclera Oliva, Nicaragua
INTENSITY:

NOTE: Chocolate

It all begins on the earthen-heavy cold draw. A pip of dark chocolate in the tobacco-stalk addition there. Then, upon lighting and immediately-so, our note marries with baking spices. Then mulling spices. A calm yet assertive spiciness that never does overwhelm either the chocolate or me. Nice. A not quite touching but influencing leather adds some savory depth to the shortly silky note.

Now in the second-third, a black walnut attachment to the chocolate serves to tighten it up a tick, to add a bit of a lovely waxy boundary. Our note seems to move away from the spices at that point, or perhaps they simply dial back a bit. It returns more toward its initial spot nearer to the earthiness. Said earthiness has picked up a distinct anise vibe. The profile gets quite rich and evolves deep depths of nuance.

As the final-third approaches a roasted orange thing gets added and bee-lines to the chocolate we've been tracking. Leather begins sweating oils into it. The coffee and cedar, present all along, begin to be finally seen from the perspective of our note, but continue to be of no impact upon it. On the far-end, it does, however, pick up a weighty tropical floral tail. And that's is it to the nub.

TASTE: A-
DRAW: A-
BURN: A
BUILD: A

FINAL GRADE: A-
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

Oliva Cigars Serie O in Review

Oliva Cigars Serie O in Review

WRAPPER: Ecuadorian Habano
BINDER: Nicaraguan
FILLER: Nicaraguan

FORMAT: Robusto
ORIGIN: Nicaragua
INTENSITY: Medium

NOTES:

Exotic spice | Cream | Pale fruit/citrus

Bright spices of yellow-orange complexions. Whipped cream with fresh-pale fruit. Suede. White chocolate grows. White peppery-citrus and pine, buttery cedar wood structure with fluffy-earth under-belly.

Draws a half-hair snug. Carefree burn-line which wobbles a tick. Ash stacks thick and dense, palely-so. Moderate+ smoke output culminates in a kind sweet-spiced-fruity aroma.

TASTE: A-
DRAW: B+
BURN: B+
BUILD: A-

FINAL GRADE: B+
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 3

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles* by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 3

(*First published in a serialized fashion by The Strand Magazine August 1901 - April 1902. SPOILERS AHEAD)

We begin the third chapter, "The Problem," with Watson noting his own horror at the horror of it all thus far. This is a fun thing Doyle does often, he tells you how to feel. Whether to be horrified, on the edge of your seat, or simply just overly-impressed by the importance of whatever--he'll go ahead and spell it out for you. Speaking of which this article is an amazing article, sure to be the most important installment of this series. You will be amazed by it, as was I.

But he doesn't need to do that there (although I might here) because well, see the previous chapter's absolute pearl-clutching ending. Still, he does and that's nice. Also what's nice is we get to the nitty-gritty portion of Holmes' interview with Mortimer. And too (at last) to the reason for his visit. Nicer still, is we get a better lay of the land, of Yew Alley, the moor, and the slight village it all holds, including the Stapleton's abode, and etc. I'm no longer confused. But someone is or was:

"It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evidently stood there for five or ten minutes," relates Mortimer. This is on account of the cigar ash seen dropped in his place. Twice. Holmes is impressed and sees a cut of jib similar to his own in that deduction. I will say that depending on the cigar the Sir was smoking, that does seem like a lot of ash, particularly the short end of that guesstimated time. A cheroot Indian cigar** might drop thatta way but a finer say Cuban would most likely take longer than the allotted amount to twice drop.

We just don't know. What is known, however, is known-so a few lines later and that is Holmes' view on his own investigatory limitations as M comes somewhat clean on suspecting the supernatural. "In a modest way, I have combated evil, but to take on the Father of Evil himself would, perhaps, be too ambitious a task." But perhaps, only. Humble pie. Almost certainly delivered at least a good portion tongue-in-cheek, but still so good. Now for the crux, as H asks why M seeks his help in supernaturalist dealings.

It's advice that is sought. What to do with the next Baskerville heir due at the depot in seventy-five minutes. Sir Charles Baskerville had been gone farming to Canada prior to being flagged down, and he is not simply the next but also the last heir. We gotta get this one right, boys. Thankfully, no one left in Holmes' care has ever met their untimely demise whilst under his watchful eye. Oh, no... that's not accurate at all. Gulp. Nevertheless, it is the advice of H that Charles gets taken to the Hall of his ancestry.

He'd be just as safe there, after all, as in London. For, as H reckons it, "A devil with merely local powers like a parish vestry would be too inconceivable a thing." It then seems M is no more fully in love with H's approach any more than vice-versa in the opening chapter's Bertillon however unintentional jab. So plans are made to meet back up in twenty-four hours, at that time with Sir Henry in tow. In the interim, Holmes places an order, as he tells W to vamos on his lonesome.

"When you pass Bradley's, would you ask him to send up a pound of the strongest shag tobacco?"

Bradley. Could this be of one Charles Bradley, who worked in tobacco, snuff, and cigar making? He was the son of Joseph, who also was a tobacconist as well as a grocer. Charles himself was also an adherent of a popular prophetess named Joanna Southcott, even going on to essentially sponsor her greatest disciple, one John 'Zion' Ward. He put him up, and paid for his printing fees, among other things. Letters from Ward to C Bradley (and his son) were edited together into 16 volumes by CB Holinsworth between 1899 and 1904.

Enough of this, though. Well, maybe a quick bit about Southcott (1750-1814) of Devon, England. She was a self-proclaimed (of course) prophet, whose movement out-lasted her life by quite some 100-plus years. By 1814, her followers numbered some 100,000 souls and at the age of 64, she announced her pregnancy. This unsurprisingly did not come to fruition, as she instead died. Her religiosity began in The Church of England, went over to the fun-loving Wesleyans, then began her famed prophecies.

So then, this Ward character wiggled in as the Messiah or Shiloh she foresaw herself birthing.

I don't mean to be overly superficial about my information there, but then again, I do. Back to HOUN, if the first chapter lulled us, and the second rattled us--this third prepares us. We have a clearer lay of the land, as does Holmes. His coming via a 'very large' ordinance map, two pots of coffee, and... let me just share with you one of my favorite quotes in all canon... "My body has remained in this armchair and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my absence two large pots of coffee and an incredible amount of tobacco."

Same, H. Same.

It is then we get another uptick of horror. As I covered under the chapter two header, Sir Charles was not tip-toeing but running. "He was running, Watson--running desperately, running for his life, running until he burst his heart--and fell dead upon his face." The structure here is notable. Typically, one might use short impactful sentences here. In order to show action. Instead, ACD opts to elongate the emotion, to have the words tumble out as if the horror itself were a growing thing and perhaps slowly-so.

An elongated horrific now. But also a growing thing. Perhaps one might read the moor as such, pushing slowly through the gate, down the alley. Trying at its boundaries, champing at its bit. Succeeding in increments. And worthy of note is that all this occurs within only a 'particular district.' It's a big moor. A more-ish moor. I probably need my own map.

We are here, I feel, being introduced more fully to the main character of this novel. The moor itself. All this must have been felt by Sir Charles, so what on earth would have had him standing there, packed for London on the morrow, during the hours of evil, nervously puffing his cigar. Nervously, is the pace you'd need to corroborate that length of time and ash. Watson hands Holmes his violin and we wait until the next meeting. I recall an old scene from some sitcom, a man in a prison cell plays his harmonica. "What are you in for?" a fellow inmate asks, and the response comes "Ambience."

ADDITIONAL HOUN:
Thoughts on Ch. 2
Thoughts on Ch. 4

::: very :::

** On the Indian Cigars of Sherlock Holmes and the Trichinopoly Cigar

Online sources for this article: The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (The Hound of the Baskervilles), JSTOR (The Bradleys of Birmingham: The Unorthodox Family of Michael Field by Jackie EM Latham), Wikipedia (Johanna Southcott)

Oliva Cigars Serie G Maduro in Review

Oliva Cigars Serie G Maduro in Review

WRAPPER: US Connecticut Broadleaf
BINDER: Nicaraguan
FILLER: Nicaraguan

FORMAT: Churchill (750) trunk-pressed
ORIGIN: Nicaragua
INTENSITY: Medium-full

NOTES:
Dark chocolate | Black pepper | Charcoal earthiness

Smooth and powerful with just the right bit of edge on its back-end. Dark chocolate remains supple and maturely sweet. Black pepper stays in control while testing its boundaries in a purposeful fashion. Shows some licorice as it does. Earthiness is rich and full weighty with a charcoal influence that at times exhibits just a half-tick of alkaline ashiness. Structured rigidly via mesquite wood framing.

Consistent as all get-out and balanced quite well. While at most moderately complex, there are excellent nuances and depth with vibes of dark fruit and grain. A transition in the 2/3's onset pours a shot of espresso into the upper-middlings mix, and carries a tick of brown sugar all its own. Long, bitter-sweet finish. A nightcap offering begging a nip of bourbon. Or a thing for a ballsy morning over a cup of Cuban coffee.

Fairly care-free performance requiring zero retouches. Trunk-press holds tight, as do seams. Draws smooth and even. Burn-line is a half-bit of a self-correcting wave, ash grows all the live-long. Lots of smoke out-put with a further touch of ashiness on its pungent aroma. Room-note is deep and leathery. A slight ding is that the cap loses some integrity but that doesn't affect more than cosmetics.

TASTE: B+
DRAW: A-
BURN: A-
BUILD: B+

FINAL GRADE: B+
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

A Few Delicious Minutes | Looking at a Sidney Paget Illustration from Sherlock Holmes The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist

A Few Delicious Minutes | Looking at a Sidney Paget Illustration from Sherlock Holmes The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist [SOLI] by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1903 SPOILERS AHEAD)

"It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian." But that isn't quite it, not by a long-shot, really. What we bear witness to in the illustration at hand is but the climax of a pressure cooker situation. Interesting to note, with that in mind, is how ::: very ::: rigid Holmes' figure is here, even when held up against its usual Paget rigidity. Still, it expresses somehow a breadth of time within its frame which presents as a wider amount of passage than simply when straight left meets slogging ruffian.

Expressed somehow or perhaps otherwise implied is no small amount of build-up. Simply by looking, we can tell it didn't erupt from nowhere, that straight left. We don't know without reading the tale but upon glancing the drawing--we shouldn't be surprised to learn that Holmes was on a trail. That the slogging ruffian Woodley "... had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous." These words of his culminated in his firing first with "a vicious back-hander, which I failed to entirely avoid."

And then it's homeward-bound in a cart for our Mr. Jack Woodley.

"The next few minutes were delicious." That is, I feel, the sentence that Paget so perfectly catches here for the reasons aforementioned. It's now, say--but a whole lot of now, which is captured, anchored by H. A wide lens but one which still finely focuses on its literal impact. Literally, let's now literally look at the illustration itself before you, dear reader, literally die in waiting to do-so. First the barman. His face says that whilst he saw this all coming, he entirely reserved the right to be utterly and dramatically shocked at its arrival. I also like his whiskers.

Also, apparently, Woodley looked a good-bit like Theodore Roosevelt, the Rough Rider American President from 1901-09. He of rugged cowboy naturalist imagery either real or imagined (I'm not here to debate that). I am here, however, to say that Paget might well have gotten a kick out of Victorian stuffiness dominating American-esque vulgarity even at the dawning of the Edwardian era. Or maybe wearing spectacles and a 'stache simply weren't that rare then, which they were not. But it does all lend an air of propaganda to this drawing.

Look at Holmes, though, so bloody proper in his old-timey upright stance of that timey. Precise. His clothing is so form-fitting as to exaggerate that. His knifelike limb of an arm slicing straight through Woodley's looping ugliness. His knees so barely-bent. His shoes, dagger-sharp. His buttoned-up jacket as opposed to Woodley's flying-open. This all is happening in Holmes' world. W is just so, unfortunately, occupying that said world, and doing-so with his hat on the barroom floor. H's firmly in place atop his stoic, heroic head.

The face of Holmes. Determined and reasoning and all with accurate eagle-eyed patience. Calm almost casual. So perfectly at home in this understated albeit raucous environment, one so unlike 221B. Perhaps Holmes is the man out-of-time here?

There also exists another illustration of this scene. That one by Martin Van Maele (Societe d'Edition et de Publications, 1905-6). It features a pouncing H and covering if not cowering W. It's all wrong, that. Too frenetic-frantic and ham-fistedly exciting. There is desperation there. It misses the point entirely of not just this fantastic scene but in Holmes writ large. Back to this Paget, though. It gets it all so damned good it's delicious in and of itself. God save the Queen, tea time, and dapperly clenched fists.

Woodley. In this tale, Watson gives him the name of Jack. Could it be, though, that was to protect his reputation, or what was left of it? What reputation? Well, there existed another Woodley, one Tom Woodley, a professional boxer of the time. Remember, this is (was) 1903. On 26 January 1903 Tom Woodley squared off against an Eddie Connolly, losing a 15-round decision in his bid for the National Sporting Club British welterweight title.

That Woodley had a rather considerable career, culminating in a record of 21-9-1 with 5 KO, spanning the years 1896 - 1905. Given that well-documented lack of punching power, perhaps Holmes really did experience the full blow and it only was assumed to have somewhat missed its mark. Looking further and more sharply-so, Collier's actual date of publishing was 26 December of '03. SOLI was directly on the bout's heels and I wonder now if Doyle wasn't teasing the pugilist some.

His victorious opponent Connolly was a Canadian fighter with a lesser record of an eventual 27 wins and 23 losses. But he pulled it out that night to the tune of a British belt. A bit of a bitter pill to swallow for a fight fan and proud Englishmen. But was ACD a fight fan? He did view the sport as a quite manly venture so he held it in that high-esteem. Also, Holmes is a boxer among other forms of martial arts. Doyle himself was no stranger to a bit of ye olde fisticuffs.

As the story goes Dr. Doyle once served as a whaling vessel's surgeon and among his belongings was a pair of boxing gloves. The steward of the ship saw this and immediately challenged him to an impromptu bout. The result? "So help me, he's the best surgeon we've had! He's blackened my e'e!" I'm sure, the gentleman that ACD was, he provided the utmost in aftercare. Years later, using his pen to weigh in on the coming up short of a fellow Englishman.

::: very :::

Online Sources: The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist), Boxrec (Tom Woodley), and Conan Doyle Info (Conan Doyle the Sportsman).

OTHER READING?

Knees of Clay | Looking at a Sidney Paget Illustration from Sherlock Holmes The Red-Headed League

Martial Arts in Sherlock Holmes Canon & Premium Tobacco Pairings Vol. 3 Boxing

A Brief and Abridged Overview of Boxing History in England | On Williams from Sherlock Holmes The Sign of the Four

Partagas Anejo | Partagas Project | Series Overview

Partagas Anejo | Partagas Project | Series Overview (Partagas Project XI (Overview, final installment*)

One blend. One format. Ten smokes. Ten reviews, and as many review styles. That's the project and the cigar was, of course, the Partagas Anejo in its Petit Robusto iteration. Shall we look at the specs again? Sure, let us.

WRAPPER: Cameroon/Connecticut Shade
BINDER: Dominican
FILLER: Mexican, Dominican

FORMAT: Petit Robusto (4.5x49) Barber-pole
ORIGIN: General Cigar Dominicana

[PLEASE NOTE: regardless of which installment of this multi-post project you come in on, you can find the rest of the entries by employing the Search Kaplowitz Media. function to the right of your screen. Simply enter "Partagas Project." Thank you.]

Succinctly, as if that ship ain't sailed, the Anejo is a moderately complex cigar with a tilt toward citrus sourness, pushed by a salty note. In terms of the project itself, I was only somewhat surprised to see how the slightly different angles of perception involved in each review style occasionally shined an explaining light on certain aspects. That was neat. Do I think it was necessary? So little of what I do can ever even tenuously fit under that label. It was, however, quite interesting.

More as to the cigar, over-all it often teetered on being surprisingly brash (particularly given the age of its hyped leaves). Although it also at times teetered toward not blandness but maybe being overly sedate in awkward spots. An impromptu nap fell into at an awkward position, say. I pinned this and a nice savoriness on the San Andres addition in its filler. Although I was right, I was put more correct in a talk I had with Sean Hardiman.

Speaking of Sean, he's been in the industry for a hair over a decade, for a goodly chunk of that time within the General Cigar organization, where he now acts as National Sales Manager for the Forged company. Prior to that he was with LFD and in the interim twixt became a much-ballyhooed big Partagas apprecianado. In talking with him I did manage to learn a bit more first-hand about the Anejo. As well as a bit more about the brand and the companies.

As to the Anejo blend, as reported here at KM and myriad elsewheres, it was and is meant to showcase the leaf availability of which General is privy to. Again, we are talking about a 1998 Cameroon leaf coupled with a 2013 Connecticut leaf. As Sean put it and to paraphrase, 'Give Van Gogh a handful of colors and he'll make a pretty painting. Give him a limitless palette and we're talking masterpiece.' That is what General has to offer.

What Forged and, in turn, Partagas has to offer is the ability for the ginormous General (STG) to pivot on a dime, allowing it to operate in a somewhat boutique manner. To not only keep an ear to the ground but also to meet those heard rumblings with readied offerings. Plus, what consumer doesn't like 'boutique', and in turn what boutique ethos bearer wouldn't like that sort of big-deep backing? As to the Anejo directly, sheesh, aren't 10 reviews enough? Even scattered into this overview, I give you gold nuggets of insight.

"The San Andres puts in what the age took out," said Sean. True dat. And for the most part skillfully-so. Although, at its worst and rarest times, it was an awkward replacement. It put me in mind in those times of the common question of resuscitating dried cigars. Sure, the moisture can be replaced but the oils are lost to time. To be clear, there were no dried-out or lifeless leaves here--but sometimes the fill-in stands out more than is desired. Or at least in a manner that alters the profile.

An interjection here before closing it out, another characteristic of this Anejo was its savoriness. Picture this as a roasted orange dish served on a leather tray. I bring this to light because Sean has an interesting take on what balance means; that it is the interplay of balance and dryness. I just might give that notion of his more writing time someday. Regardless, he hit the mark there, here. Also in this grabbag paragraph, he equates the taste of nicotine with leather. Reading between those lines, you'd be correctly inferring that this A carries a sneaky punch.

Nevertheless, the Anejo is quite an interesting project and smoke well-worth experiencing. Let me take one last run at it, leave it there. The thing is a vehicle for its Cameroon wrapper star. An able supporting actor is the Connecticut, in that it's not completely over-run by the lead. Then there's the San Andres, a character actor who steals a scene or two. Keeping it in cinematic terms I'm virtually illiterate in, Creative actor, Cameleon actor, and Personality actor, respectively. The Dominican binder and filler? The old professional gameshow contestants... what were they called?

*Below is the schedule of this 'Partagas Project.' You have just read 12. Hallelujah. 

1. Intro (about the blend & project)
2. Review (Regular)
3. Review (Sherlock Holmes)
4. Review (Something quirky)
5. Review (Cigar Aficionado style)
6. Review (Limerick)
7. Review (Long-form)
8. Review (Flavor wheel)
9. Review (Kaplowitz Scale review)
10. Review (Synesthesia review)
11. Review (Primary tastes)
12. Overview

Helluva ride.

::: very :::

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles* [HOUN] by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 2

(*First published in a serialized fashion by The Strand Magazine August 1901 - April 1902. SPOILERS AHEAD)

"Mr. Holmes they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" But I do get ahead of myself. I couldn't help myself! Great line. A great line that this chapter ends with, so again, I do-so get ahead of myself. First, we must learn what it is exactly that brings Dr. James Mortimer to seek the assistance of Sherlock Holmes. It begins with an account read from a document Holmes first dates from 1730 but is, in fact, from 1742. You see, Dr. Mortimer has been displaying a top-bit of it all along to H's spying eyes.

Speaking of, "At the head [of said document] was written: 'Baskerville Hall', and below, in large scrawling figures: 1742'. To take nothing from Holmes' deducing of the date or era, could it be that that top-bit on display at least partially and quite literally spelled out the date for H to see? Possibly he then rounded out the year to make his actually seeing it less obvious? Possibly, but on top of this may be bit of chicanery, he does make good with showing his work or at least knowledge...

A thing that aided him in his dating is its use of the long S, which had fallen out of printed London favor by 1800. It was seen in handwriting for only a couple of decades after that. There were, naturally, specific uses for the long S in its heyday. I'll not share too much here but it essentially was put in place of double-S or in lieu of one of them. Also, before or after an F, this is due in part for clarity's sake, as linguistically, the two letters are quite similar in certain ways. Its ancestry traces back to Roman cursive. Wait--there's only one S in 'Baskerville' and no F. Then again, I'm neither scholar nor cunning linguist.

Nevertheless, "With your permission I will read it to you," says Mortimer. Odd, since H was already in possession of the document, spread out upon his knee. While this narrating does add a certain and lovely stage production value, mainly, it is indicative of the fact that in those times (almost exactly bridging the Victorian and Edwardian eras) it was quite a regular thing to read aloud to one-another as both a form of entertainment and even bonding/wooing. In the case of M, perhaps an added story-telling flare to garner attention or foster intrigue. Theatrics.

So we learn of the horrible Hugo Baskerville, an evil man who rightly had his throat torn out by a Hellhound while pursuing a fair maiden he'd held captive. She had been plucked from her father's house and brought to Baskerville Manor by he, much against her will. It would seem in regards to the poor woman "It chanced that Hugo came to love (if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known so bright a name)." Such an excellent line, that. A line, which would be well-read on the stage.

But she had other plans and she dared to venture out her prison cell's window and down the ivy vines, an act "which might have daunted the bravest or most active man." Then she made a run for it, it being her father's house some three leagues away. For perspective, a league is three miles. We are looking at a nine-mile frantic run while chased by hounds both of hell (indirectly) and earth (directly) and by Hugo and his drunken cohorts. That is a heckuva distance over that perceived terrain and in the inky blackness of night. A league makes me think of the sea, and how she was so helplessly-hopelessly adrift.

We also learn that the same ivy still clung in 1742 to the Baskerville Manor. I'd like to imagine still then and even now. It's a fantastic play at making present the horrid affairs of that fateful and wicked night. She was felled. Of the three Hugo accomplices there at the scene, one died of fright later that same night, and the other two were broken by what they had beheld. The document itself is a warning to the future Baskerville men, the hound still plagues them. So pray hard, repent, and don't cross the moor at night. And never feed Mogwai after midnight.

That's not all that M reads to H, though, in his 'high crackling voice'. He also reads an article from a recent Devon County Chronicle edition, covering the death of one Sir Charles Baskerville. The eccentric but well-liked widower was found dead on the moor (and yes, he was aware of the risks and quite disturbed by the document) so why was he there? Well, he sort of maybe was not, but definitely, he was in wait. He was in the Yew Alley of the Hall. I'm a bit foggy on that. It was by the moor-gate, nonetheless.

In any event, he liked these nightcap walks of his, with a cigar in both hand and lip. Barrymore the butler found him dead, with his face twisted grotesquely in horror (a thing seen throughout canon) with no physical signs of violence. He had a bad heart, and that was that. Although why was he tip-toeing at one point? Better yet, why would any investigator take those footprints as that instead of running as H plainly read it? Curious. At times, things really do seem lined up to make Holmes superior in ways that resemble the previous chapter's Dr. Watson thinking 'Hunt' and not 'Hospital'.

Off the record, however, there is another quite important item; one which Barrymore either missed or neglected to mention at the inquest. One which no one but Mortimer saw, and kept to himself until now "--some little distance off, but fresh and clear."

"Footprints?"
"Footprints."
"A man's or a woman's?"

Mortimer then lowers his voice to a whisper. "Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Even now as I relate this to you, I feel like retreating to my fainting couch in horror. Such a line! A note as to delivery. M lowers his voice and then delivers a line ending in an exclamation point. This is a brilliant bit of stage direction, really. Try it. It renders itself as ::: very ::: intense.

And with it, the game is punintentionally afoot (get it, footprints?) So what did I think of this all? I still recall being that fourth or fifth grader, reading this for the first time, and being hooked unbelievably-so. I still cling to that first time, throughout time, much like the manor's ivy. It is a busy chapter, an info-dump, really. Particularly in comparison to the opening chapter's slow-roll. And we have still a tick more to see unfurl in M's initial consultation.

Over-all, the blackness engulfs us, even within the safe and familiar confines of Baker Street. We are all the fair maiden, the unnamed daughter of a yeoman, adrift together and alone. Soon, we'll even be without the calm logic of Holmes and lost in one of the great Victorian creepers. Don't fear too hard though, as Watson will be there too, with a revolver in hand and a bit of a cowboy in Sir Henry Baskerville in tow, as we find out that, in fact, the butler didn't do it.

ADDITIONAL HOUN:
Thoughts on Chapter 1
Thoughts on Chapter 3

::: very :::

Online sources for this article: The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (The Hound of the Baskervilles), and Wikipedia (Long s).

Room101 Cigars The Big Payback Maduro in Review

Room101 Cigars The Big Payback Maduro in Review

WRAPPER: Connecticut Broadleaf
BINDER: Connecticut Shade
FILLER: Honduras, Nicaragua, Dominican

FORMAT: Robusto (5.25x50)
ORIGIN: General Cigar STG Honduras
INTENSITY: Medium-full

NOTES:
Dark chocolate | Scorched oak | Italian roast coffee beans

A tick tarry and several ticks of thin smoky forward march. Linear and lacking in complexity and nuance. 'Voosh.' comes to mind. Chocolate is waxy even waxed. Some black pepper and a scant lingering dried dark fruit. Hint of cumin. Burns a bit quick and gives off a big spiced-woodsy aroma, settling into a wispy room-note. Dry, flaky ash. No surprises. Smokes like reading a mystery book backward.

TASTE: B
DRAW: A-
BURN: B
BUILD: B+

FINAL GRADE: B
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

Balmoral Cigars Anejo XO Oscuro Rothschild Masivo in Review

Royal Agio Cigars Balmoral Anejo XO Oscuro Rothschild Masivo in Review

WRAPPER: Mexican San Andres
BINDER: Dominican Olor
FILLER: Brazilian, Dominican, Nicaraguan

FORMAT: 555 "Rothschild Masivo"
ORIGIN: Agio Caribbean Tobacco, Dominican Republic
INTENSITY: Medium-full

NOTES:
Coffee | Black Pepper | Anise

All that above and italicized plus a movie theater box of Raisinets. But more again to the stated above. Coffee is in French roasted beans form, the note evolves but not all the way to the pour; instead stopping at being ground and tamped on the way to the pull. Black pepper is simple enough flakes at a fairly high but not abrasive level. Anise travels along sometimes acting as licorice, sometimes as sarsaparilla.

Underneath and behind all that are darkly-toasted heavy grains (barley, buckwheat) strewn upon thick hidey savory leather. A retro-hale adds some paprika and cumin spice to the affair but only needs to be done every so slight-scorchy often. Once that drops to the palate, there is a brief but goodly look at saffron and mushroom. This thing is quite entertaining. Woods are a part of a mid-point transition, in a hickory and mesquite manner.

Well-balanced, delineated, complex. The finish is of long-length, carrying a bit of a Merlot addition to top-notes. Ends in a slight charcoal vibe. You can tell there's a lot of flavors to unpack if I'm still unpacking in the third paragraph. Construction & combustion are no less impressive. Builds long dense ash from an even 'nuff, thin line. Draws silky-smooth. Assemblage holds. Burn rate is slow. Smoke out-put is moderate, lingering about in sweet-savory room-note fashion.

TASTE: A
DRAW: A-
BURN: A-
BUILD: A-

FINAL GRADE: A-
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79

::: very :::

The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast | Episode Five

The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast | Episode Five (Kaplowitz Reads Kaplowitz)

Wherein I read a recently written and posted to KM rather lengthy article entitled On Barker: A Hated (Sherlock Holmes) Rival. Simply press play below to listen. Also please consider subscribing to The Kaplowitz Media. Podcast on your preferred podcast player. Rate and review while you're at it. 

::: very :::

Partagas Anejo in (Primary Tastes) Review | Partagas Project X

Partagas Anejo in (Primary Tastes) Review | Partagas Project X (10th & final review, 11th over-all installment*)

WRAPPER: Cameroon/Connecticut Shade
BINDER: Dominican
FILLER: Mexican, Dominican

FORMAT: Petit Robusto (4.5x49) Barber-pole
ORIGIN: General Cigar Dominicana
INTENSITY: Medium

NOTES:
(1st, 2nd, 3rd thirds.
1 being the least, 3 the most)

BITTER
2, 1, 2

SALTY
1, 2, 3

SOUR
2, 2, 3

SWEET
2, 2, 2

UMAMI
1, 2, 2

*Below is the schedule of this 'Partagas Project.' You have just read 11.

1. Intro (about the blend & project)
2. Review (Regular)
3. Review (Sherlock Holmes)
4. Review (Something quirky)
5. Review (Cigar Aficionado style)
6. Review (Limerick)
7. Review (Long-form)
8. Review (Flavor wheel)
9. Review (Kaplowitz Scale review)
10. Review (Synesthesia review)
11. Review (Primary tastes)
12. Overview

[PLEASE NOTE: regardless of which installment of this multi-post project you come in on, you can find the rest of the entries by employing the Search Kaplowitz Media. function to the right of your screen. Simply enter "Partagas Project." Thank you.]

::: very :::

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles* [HOUN] by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 1

(*First published in a serialized fashion by The Strand Magazine August 1901 - April 1902. SPOILERS AHEAD)

"'I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me,' said he." The 'he' is, of course, Holmes and this is in response to the equally, of course, Watson as the good doctor begins his examination of the 'Penang lawyer ' stick and is startled by the mistaken eyes on the back of Holmes' head. And we are off deducing in a typical cosy fashion around the breakfast table, regarding said walking stick. This is all fairly reminiscent of Henry Baker's hat in The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, say.

Holmes then asks Watson to take a stab at explaining the stick's owner, James Mortimer, MRCS to whom it was inscribed and presented and who in turn left it behind while visiting a then apparently vacant 221B. Holmes first seemingly applauds W's efforts, then only mildly by his lofty standards, ridicules them and him. But really, the great detective is thanking Watson not applauding per se. "Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it."

You're a dummy but I'm smart enough to see why that is and furthermore how and then that leads me to the truth at hand. Watson as a sort of facilitating talisman, then. As well as a chronicler whose chronicling leads to Holmes gaining both ever-lasting fame and occasional fortune. H has much, indeed, to be thankful for. But I imagine W gets his own financial desserts by selling his tales of these cases to The Strand. He's just made plain to see there is but one detective between the two present parties.

Although Watson was not totally wrong and that's good. Except for the life of me, I can't figure out why his physician's mind went to 'hunt' and not 'hospital.' This seems inexplicable unless he in fact knows his role well and this is him lobbing one over the plate for the benefit of Holmes. Just a bit of batting practice to get the juices flowing. Limbered-up, you know. I don't know. It's really the oddest bit of this opening chapter.

Then Mortimer arrives with his 'by Jove' 'curly-haired spaniel'. He brings both tidings of a case and his own somewhat rare Holmes insult. Before the latter, we see Holmes deduce he rolls his own cigarettes and also hear how M covets H's skull. How interesting and how oddly grotesque and then comes that "Recognizing, as I do, that you are the second highest expert in Europe--" Holmes is 'Just a little' insulted by Mortimer's rankings and insists he makes with the purpose of his visit. I feel as though Watson had a chuckle at his inclusion of this jab.

So who is Monsieur Bertillon? We'll close with the answer to that but we will not close yet. Before that, I have a question of my own. We read, "... and only an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and not his visiting-card after waiting an hour in your room." How is this hour-long period arrived at, exactly? I'd like to know. A certain length of cigar ash in a tray? The depth of footprint on the bearskin rug? Something about parsley and butter? The amount of time the rooms were unattended wouldn't serve to speak directly to the amount of time M stayed in wait.

Regardless, this is all quite familiar a setting, as I alluded to already. Almost ham-fistedly-so. Quite on-brand in a tale that does deviate in goodly-part from said branding. It feels somewhat like this was written toward the last of the writing after the Victorian creeper tale was already penned or at the least mainly-fully imagined. A sort of comfy after-thought of a welcoming inclusion? In any event, we start quite strong enough, and this is never a bad thing.

Now for Monsieur Bertillon. Although I fibbed when I stated we'd also close here. Bertillon was a French police officer who introduced the idea or technique of anthropometry into criminal investigations. This was essentially a way of IDing a suspect using their physical measurements. It eventually gave way to fingerprinting. He also invented the mugshot. Less admirably, his faulty handwriting analysis would doom the innocent Alfred Dreyfus to a life sentence at Devil's Island.

Perhaps this start is more-so a setting of the table, or really, a pre-setting. The dusting off then polishing of a bare table. We are not off nor is anything yet meaningfully afoot as the opening chapter ends. M has yet to make known the reason for his visit let alone what he seeks of Holmes. Can this whole chapter be somewhat filler? For this tale in and of itself, perhaps. But it is necessary to again plug Holmes customarily in and do take heart, please.

Because it is also a quite low-key way to soft-launch into the next chapter's movement and famed horrifyingly spine-tingling closing line...

ADDITIONAL HOUN:

Thoughts on Chapter 2. 

::: very :::

Online sources for this article include: Wikipedia (The Hound of the Baskervilles, Alphonse Bertillon), The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (The Hound of the Baskervilles), and Project Gutenberg (The Hound of the Baskervilles)

For a (repeated) bit of context, (repeated) because I enclosed this bit in an earlier post announcing this project: "The Great Hiatus. The time between Doyle deciding to kill off his Holmes creation in The Final Problem (1893) and succumbing to popular pressure thus bringing the consulting detective back to life from the never-dead in The Adventure of the Empty House (1903). The Hound of the Baskervilles (1901-2, serialized in The Strand Magazine) is, to be clear, set in 1889." - me.

You know those scenes tucked into an MCU movie's closing credits after I've already stumbled out of the theater with a migraine?

In the introduction of HOUN, Doyle thanks a 'Dear Robinson' for his 'account of a 'West-Country legend' used as inspiration here. This of Squire Richard Cabell of Buckfastleigh, Devon--a feared/hated hunter and evil-doer. One possibly immortal due to a deal with the devil. This is derived from the supernatural black dog Yeth Hound (a hound that never heard no and bore also an unfortunate lisp). This all under the Hellhound lore umbrella. [Same sources as above, adding Wikipedia (Black dog (folklore) and subtracting Alfonse Bertillon.]

Finally, throughout this project, I'll be using H for Holmes, W for Watson, etc. I appreciated this tact in The Sherlock Holmes Encyclopedia by Orlando Park. (Which I did not use as a reference here.)

FIN