I was a bit apprehensive of The Dante Club when its first few pages were titled “Praise for The Dante Club,” filled with what seemed like dissenting opinions of what the book was about. I kept good spirits, but they soon faded as the writing became more cumbersome and boring. Kurtz, the Boston police chief in the book, reminds you of Conrad’s Kurtz and the dark empty pit that was his soul (loose intention on Pearl’s part?). Many of the characters seem stale and bad actors, if that’s possible. And while the book is about murders committed in a fashion modeled after Dante’s inferno, the only hellish thing was Pearl’s librarian personality showing through in the activities of his chief characters. I had hoped that Longfellow, Holmes, and Lowell would have uncovered a better author to write the book instead of the seventh circle murderer.