I don’t know how this was received at the time it was published, but it’s lacking for the modern reader; anyone hoping for some deliciously dramatic 19th-century true crime is going to be disappointed. The prose is convoluted and hard to decipher; the narrator is a bit too proud and self-satisfied to be likeable; and while he may be described as Edinburgh’s Sherlock Holmes, his cases seem to be resolved less by cunning deduction and more by just being in the right place at the right time. Given how easily foiled his targets are, one can’t help but feel that standards for criminals must have risen considerably by the time Arthur Conan Doyle turned his attention to the subject.
James McLevy, "Edinburgh's real Sherlock Holmes," was a real-life detective working in Edinburgh in the 1830s and 1840s. His short stories are taken from his hundreds of real cases: mostly catching thieves, and mostly by way of McLevy's almost sixth sense intuition about the criminal mind and criminal subculture in the Edinburgh of the day. These stories apparently made an impression on Conan Doyle, and one can definitely see the connection -- not in literary style so much as the way the detective's mind works.
As much as I enjoyed the stories, I found the book a little hard to read, as it is very much the language of the mid 19th century, as spoken by an Irish expatriate with literary ambitions living and working in the Scottish capital. It's not written in dialect at all, but the turns of phrase are unfamiliar enough.
This edition of McLevy was produced by the Publishing students at Edinburgh Napier University and the Scottish Centre for the Book.
I get that its a historical and factual text and so styles of writing and storytelling have changed. And there was some interesting nuggets of information in here about Edinburgh, but if I wasn't reading this for my booklcub, I probably wouldn't have finished it.