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Sherlock ramble/review-type thing.
Mainly a discussion of Sherlock Holmes as a Great man? or a Good man?
Note that it assumes you've seen the show. I could just say "spoiler alert" but it's not so much that I give away important plot points (which I do) but also that it probably won't make sense without any background.
_______________________________
John: So why do you put up with him?
Lestrade: Because I'm desperate, that's why. And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we're very lucky, he might even be a good one.
--Sherlock, Episode One, "A Study in Pink."
If you know me and have had any sort of conversation with me in the past few weeks, you have probably heard me mention the BBC television show, Sherlock, a modern day adaptation of Sherlock Holmes. It was in the works, as far as I am aware, for quite a while. I certainly knew that it was being made and that Martin Freeman would play Watson before I left for grad school in August 2009--possibly even a year before that.
Let me just get this out of the way, before I actually review. Yes, Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes is GORGEOUS. (Can't believe I didn't notice him so much in Amazing Grace...but then, 18th C. wigs aren't particularly flattering, and Ioan Gruffud (sp? I can say it, but can't spell it) outshone him.) Yes, Martin Freeman as John Watson is ADORABLE, and very Sam Gamgee-ish. (So many Sam Gamgee moments!) I admit it. But let us move on.
What I'm interested in is what I see as one of the most important of the themes that run through the show, and which I think is encapsulated in the quotation at the head of this post. But to discuss what is interesting about it, we need to go back to Arthur Conan Doyle's work.
The Sherlock Holmes stories are (almost) all narrated by Dr. John Watson, an army doctor who was invalided out during the Anglo-Afgan war. Watson admires Holmes to no end. He is occasionally put off by/makes reference to Holmes's exasperating vanity and incredible pride, but in general he sees Holmes, as Holmes seems to see himself--a super-humanly intelligent and all-around awesome dude. His interest in Holmes and Holmes's work originally seems to stem from boredom, but quickly turns into single-minded hero worship. (Now, I am overstating the case a bit. I am making Watson seem more like the Nigel Bruce bumbler than he actually is. But at times he almost portrays himself as such, and we have to read between the lines to see that he isn't.)
I think that Holmes and Watson have a great friendship, and that's what draws me to the books (rather than the mysteries themselves) but it is Watson's devotion to Holmes, rather than Holmes's to Watson that makes it memorable. There is one very special moment in "The Adventure of the Three Garridebs" in which we do get a glimpse of Holmes's affection for Watson. It makes every fangirl's heart go pitter patter. Here it is in full.
The scene: Holmes and Watson are waiting for an American gunslinger [must write about America as "the other" in Victorian fic some time. A very amusing topic, in my opinion] named "Killer Evans." Evans walks into the room where they are hiding:
Clearly our moment had come. Holmes touched my wrist as a signal, and together we stole across to the open trap-door. Gently as we moved, however, the old floor must have creaked under our feet, for the head of our American, peering anxiously round, emerged suddenly from the open space. His face turned upon us with a glare of baffled rage, which gradually softened into a rather shamefaced grin as he realized that two pistols were pointed at his head.
"Well, well!" said he coolly as he scrambled to the surface. "I guess you have been one too many for me, Mr. Holmes. Saw through my game, I suppose, and played me for a sucker from the first. Well, sir, I hand it to you; you have me beat and..."
In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots.
I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes's pistol came down on the man's head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend's wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair.
"You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!"
It was worth a wound--it was worth many wounds--to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.
"It's nothing, Holmes. It's a mere scratch."
He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife.
"You are right," he cried with an immense sigh of relief. "It is quite superficial." His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. "By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?"
I have found this moment to be fascinating ever since I entered the world of Holmes and Watson. It is of course an "awwwwwww! Holmes cares!" moment. But it is more than that. One of my pet topics is the cost of friendship, which goes back to the *cough* Rankin/Bass Return of the King. *cough*...
In that masterpiece of 80s cinema, which I may or may not have written a whole post on a year or so ago, there is a song that says "If you never say hello, you won't have to say goodbye." And that line, in connection with the sadness of Frodo leaving has meant a lot to me. I suppose by now I could be more sophisticated and quote "Shadowlands" (not C.S. Lewis--a misattribution as far as I can tell): "The pain then, is part of the happiness now. That's the deal."
But however you want to put it, love makes you vulnerable because you will experience loss eventually. In fact, one real Lewis quotation, from The Four Loves, because it is such a great one (and then I don't have to feel too bad about the Rankin/Bass quotation):
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
This may be fangirl heresy, but I will dare to say that Conan Doyle's Holmes really did wrap his heart around with hobbies and little luxuries. He did his best to lock it up safe in the casket of his selfishness. He did not completely succeed, but if Holmes's life is not characterized by selfishness, I don't know what is. I'm glad he had hidden some love for Watson deep down inside--Watson earned it. But I am afraid that as readers we have to at least ask ourselves if Holmes's facade of indifference does not go more than skin deep. (See also his behavior in "The Empty House" and "The Dying Detective.")
I find it very sad and pathetic that all of Watson's relationship with Holmes leads up to that one moment where for an instant he sees that Holmes actually cares. But Watson doesn't seem to feel that way. He just accepts Holmes as a great man, and while he is made incredibly happy by this tiny moment of humanity, he doesn't really quesition Holmes's goodness. Greatness is enough.
Now, I said this was a review of the BBC show, Sherlock, and it is. And I've finally gotten back around to it. :-)
John, as portrayed by Martin Freeman, is very much the Watson we know and love. He is awestruck by Sherlock. Every time Sherlock makes some kind of deduction he says "That's incredible" or "that's amazing"--something to that effect. In fact, here is a really cute exchange where Sherlock is rattling off facts about a dead woman. John has peppered the conversation with little exclamations (Freeman is so good at making what could sound very silly or forced sound perfectly genuine):
John: That's fantastic!
Sherlock: Do you know you do that out loud?
John: Sorry, I'll shut up.
Sherlock: No, its...fine...
And as in the original books, Sherlock partly wants John around because he is so appreciative. At one point he says (speaking of a serial murderer) "That's the frailty of genius, John, it needs an audience." I don't think he's self-aware enough to know he's describing himself, but he is.
Unlike the books, however, the TV show brings the issue of Sherlock as a human being, not just a calculating machine, into the open. From the beginning, Sherlock's insensitivity due to his brilliance is highlighted. It's often funny--when the girl who has a crush on him asks him "would you like to have coffee?" He says "Yes please. Black. Two Sugars. I'll be in the lab."--but it keeps coming back, and even as the first episode progresses becomes more serious. The victim had scratched the name "Rachel" onto the floor while she was dying. The detectives found out that "Rachel" was her daugher, who had been still born fourteen years earlier. Sherlock has been thinking out loud, and John suggests that the murderer (who somehow forced the victim to self-administer poison) used her daughter against her somehow. Sherlock says, "But that was ages ago! Why would she still be upset?" and the whole room goes quiet. Sherlock realizes he messed up from their reactions. And as an audience member, I don't think you despise him for it. John sets him straight, but you (along with John at that moment) feel more pity for the Sherlock who cannnot feel, than you feel disgust at the Sherlock who does not feel.
At the end of that episode, Sherlock risks not stopping the serial killer in his desire to prove himself right, and it is John who saves him.
As the second episode progresses and the third begins, it is becoming evident that Sherlock may be more capable of emotion than he lets on. Or rather, that John expects him to show emotion and to feel, regardless of his professed inability to do so. John becomes more vocal about pointing out to Sherlock when he is being mean or insensitive, and he continually asks him to think about the victims in the case as if they were people.
Moriarty is holding people hostage for set periods of time, while Sherlock has to figure out the mysteries Moriarty sends to him before the time runs out or the hostages (who are strapped to bomb) are exploded, usually in a densely populated area. While John is still amazed by Sherlock's powers of deduction, he is clearly personally offended, as well as offended on principle, by Sherlock's careless attitude towards human life in favor of his obsession with facts and proving himself more intelligent than Moriarty. John reaches a breaking point after an old woman (along with many people in her apartment complex) is killed, and Sherlock is only fascinated by Moriarty's evil genius:
John: So why is he doing this, then? Playing this game with you? Do you think he wants to be caught?
Sherlock: I think he wants to be distracted
John: I hope you'll be very happy together
Sherlock: Sorry. What?
John: There are LIVES at stake, Sherlock, actual human lives! Just so I know, do you care about that at all?
Sherlock: Will caring about them help save them?
John: Nope.
Sherlock: Then I'll continue not to make that mistake.
John: And you find that easy, do you?
Sherlock: Yes. Very...Is that news to you?
John: No...no
Sherlock: I've disappointed you.
John: Good! That's a good deduction. Yeah.
Sherlock: Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them.
But Sherlock's nonchalance about human life is challenged, when suddenly the man strapped to the bomb is John. (Another brilliant acting job. Cumberbatch somehow manages to portray Sherlock's sudden fear and vulnerability, while preserving the mask of self-confidence towards Moriarty. That's not a good description...you have to see it...but then you should probably watch it before reading this anyway...) His only friend is in mortal peril, and he is confronted with his brilliantly evil enemy, and he starts to see things John's way:
Jim Moriarty: I have loved this--this little game of ours...Playing Jim from IT...Playing gay...Did you like the little touch with the underwear?
Sherlock: People have died.
Jim Moriarty: That's what people DO!
Sherlock: I will stop you.
This was Sherlock at the beginning of the episode:
John: Try and remember there's a woman who might die.
Sherlock: What for? This hospital's full of people dying, doctor. Why don't you go cry by their bedsides. See what good it does them.
Can you spot the difference?
I end this rambly review-ish thing with another observation.
At the end of "A Study in Pink," Sherlock is about to take the pill. He is compelled to eat it, because he needs the rush to stave off the boredom of living as a genius among lesser mortals. He has been goaded into it by the serial killer cabbie who taunts him with the possibility that he has been outwitted. He is facing possible death. And his hand shakes.
At the end of "The Great Game," Sherlock has his gun trained on the explosives near Moriarty. He is ready to blow up himself and John because it seems they are doomed, and he needs to take Moriarty out as well. He has looked to John, and received a short nod of approval for the action he is about to take. He is facing almost certain death. And his hand is perfectly still.
Now I can only wait for the next season (Fall 2011!?!?!? WHAT?!?!!?!) to see what happens. Will they be saved in a Mycroft ex Machina? Or will we have a Reichenberg Falls-esque opening, with John in the hospital and Sherlock assumed dead? However the screenwriters write everyone out that sticky situation, my main interest is Sherlock's character. Was this just a crack in the facade, as in "The Three Garridebs"? or has Sherlock changed from just a great man, to a good one?
Mainly a discussion of Sherlock Holmes as a Great man? or a Good man?
Note that it assumes you've seen the show. I could just say "spoiler alert" but it's not so much that I give away important plot points (which I do) but also that it probably won't make sense without any background.
_______________________________
John: So why do you put up with him?
Lestrade: Because I'm desperate, that's why. And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we're very lucky, he might even be a good one.
--Sherlock, Episode One, "A Study in Pink."
If you know me and have had any sort of conversation with me in the past few weeks, you have probably heard me mention the BBC television show, Sherlock, a modern day adaptation of Sherlock Holmes. It was in the works, as far as I am aware, for quite a while. I certainly knew that it was being made and that Martin Freeman would play Watson before I left for grad school in August 2009--possibly even a year before that.
Let me just get this out of the way, before I actually review. Yes, Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes is GORGEOUS. (Can't believe I didn't notice him so much in Amazing Grace...but then, 18th C. wigs aren't particularly flattering, and Ioan Gruffud (sp? I can say it, but can't spell it) outshone him.) Yes, Martin Freeman as John Watson is ADORABLE, and very Sam Gamgee-ish. (So many Sam Gamgee moments!) I admit it. But let us move on.
What I'm interested in is what I see as one of the most important of the themes that run through the show, and which I think is encapsulated in the quotation at the head of this post. But to discuss what is interesting about it, we need to go back to Arthur Conan Doyle's work.
The Sherlock Holmes stories are (almost) all narrated by Dr. John Watson, an army doctor who was invalided out during the Anglo-Afgan war. Watson admires Holmes to no end. He is occasionally put off by/makes reference to Holmes's exasperating vanity and incredible pride, but in general he sees Holmes, as Holmes seems to see himself--a super-humanly intelligent and all-around awesome dude. His interest in Holmes and Holmes's work originally seems to stem from boredom, but quickly turns into single-minded hero worship. (Now, I am overstating the case a bit. I am making Watson seem more like the Nigel Bruce bumbler than he actually is. But at times he almost portrays himself as such, and we have to read between the lines to see that he isn't.)
I think that Holmes and Watson have a great friendship, and that's what draws me to the books (rather than the mysteries themselves) but it is Watson's devotion to Holmes, rather than Holmes's to Watson that makes it memorable. There is one very special moment in "The Adventure of the Three Garridebs" in which we do get a glimpse of Holmes's affection for Watson. It makes every fangirl's heart go pitter patter. Here it is in full.
The scene: Holmes and Watson are waiting for an American gunslinger [must write about America as "the other" in Victorian fic some time. A very amusing topic, in my opinion] named "Killer Evans." Evans walks into the room where they are hiding:
Clearly our moment had come. Holmes touched my wrist as a signal, and together we stole across to the open trap-door. Gently as we moved, however, the old floor must have creaked under our feet, for the head of our American, peering anxiously round, emerged suddenly from the open space. His face turned upon us with a glare of baffled rage, which gradually softened into a rather shamefaced grin as he realized that two pistols were pointed at his head.
"Well, well!" said he coolly as he scrambled to the surface. "I guess you have been one too many for me, Mr. Holmes. Saw through my game, I suppose, and played me for a sucker from the first. Well, sir, I hand it to you; you have me beat and..."
In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots.
I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes's pistol came down on the man's head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend's wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair.
"You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!"
It was worth a wound--it was worth many wounds--to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.
"It's nothing, Holmes. It's a mere scratch."
He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife.
"You are right," he cried with an immense sigh of relief. "It is quite superficial." His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. "By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?"
I have found this moment to be fascinating ever since I entered the world of Holmes and Watson. It is of course an "awwwwwww! Holmes cares!" moment. But it is more than that. One of my pet topics is the cost of friendship, which goes back to the *cough* Rankin/Bass Return of the King. *cough*...
In that masterpiece of 80s cinema, which I may or may not have written a whole post on a year or so ago, there is a song that says "If you never say hello, you won't have to say goodbye." And that line, in connection with the sadness of Frodo leaving has meant a lot to me. I suppose by now I could be more sophisticated and quote "Shadowlands" (not C.S. Lewis--a misattribution as far as I can tell): "The pain then, is part of the happiness now. That's the deal."
But however you want to put it, love makes you vulnerable because you will experience loss eventually. In fact, one real Lewis quotation, from The Four Loves, because it is such a great one (and then I don't have to feel too bad about the Rankin/Bass quotation):
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
This may be fangirl heresy, but I will dare to say that Conan Doyle's Holmes really did wrap his heart around with hobbies and little luxuries. He did his best to lock it up safe in the casket of his selfishness. He did not completely succeed, but if Holmes's life is not characterized by selfishness, I don't know what is. I'm glad he had hidden some love for Watson deep down inside--Watson earned it. But I am afraid that as readers we have to at least ask ourselves if Holmes's facade of indifference does not go more than skin deep. (See also his behavior in "The Empty House" and "The Dying Detective.")
I find it very sad and pathetic that all of Watson's relationship with Holmes leads up to that one moment where for an instant he sees that Holmes actually cares. But Watson doesn't seem to feel that way. He just accepts Holmes as a great man, and while he is made incredibly happy by this tiny moment of humanity, he doesn't really quesition Holmes's goodness. Greatness is enough.
Now, I said this was a review of the BBC show, Sherlock, and it is. And I've finally gotten back around to it. :-)
John, as portrayed by Martin Freeman, is very much the Watson we know and love. He is awestruck by Sherlock. Every time Sherlock makes some kind of deduction he says "That's incredible" or "that's amazing"--something to that effect. In fact, here is a really cute exchange where Sherlock is rattling off facts about a dead woman. John has peppered the conversation with little exclamations (Freeman is so good at making what could sound very silly or forced sound perfectly genuine):
John: That's fantastic!
Sherlock: Do you know you do that out loud?
John: Sorry, I'll shut up.
Sherlock: No, its...fine...
And as in the original books, Sherlock partly wants John around because he is so appreciative. At one point he says (speaking of a serial murderer) "That's the frailty of genius, John, it needs an audience." I don't think he's self-aware enough to know he's describing himself, but he is.
Unlike the books, however, the TV show brings the issue of Sherlock as a human being, not just a calculating machine, into the open. From the beginning, Sherlock's insensitivity due to his brilliance is highlighted. It's often funny--when the girl who has a crush on him asks him "would you like to have coffee?" He says "Yes please. Black. Two Sugars. I'll be in the lab."--but it keeps coming back, and even as the first episode progresses becomes more serious. The victim had scratched the name "Rachel" onto the floor while she was dying. The detectives found out that "Rachel" was her daugher, who had been still born fourteen years earlier. Sherlock has been thinking out loud, and John suggests that the murderer (who somehow forced the victim to self-administer poison) used her daughter against her somehow. Sherlock says, "But that was ages ago! Why would she still be upset?" and the whole room goes quiet. Sherlock realizes he messed up from their reactions. And as an audience member, I don't think you despise him for it. John sets him straight, but you (along with John at that moment) feel more pity for the Sherlock who cannnot feel, than you feel disgust at the Sherlock who does not feel.
At the end of that episode, Sherlock risks not stopping the serial killer in his desire to prove himself right, and it is John who saves him.
As the second episode progresses and the third begins, it is becoming evident that Sherlock may be more capable of emotion than he lets on. Or rather, that John expects him to show emotion and to feel, regardless of his professed inability to do so. John becomes more vocal about pointing out to Sherlock when he is being mean or insensitive, and he continually asks him to think about the victims in the case as if they were people.
Moriarty is holding people hostage for set periods of time, while Sherlock has to figure out the mysteries Moriarty sends to him before the time runs out or the hostages (who are strapped to bomb) are exploded, usually in a densely populated area. While John is still amazed by Sherlock's powers of deduction, he is clearly personally offended, as well as offended on principle, by Sherlock's careless attitude towards human life in favor of his obsession with facts and proving himself more intelligent than Moriarty. John reaches a breaking point after an old woman (along with many people in her apartment complex) is killed, and Sherlock is only fascinated by Moriarty's evil genius:
John: So why is he doing this, then? Playing this game with you? Do you think he wants to be caught?
Sherlock: I think he wants to be distracted
John: I hope you'll be very happy together
Sherlock: Sorry. What?
John: There are LIVES at stake, Sherlock, actual human lives! Just so I know, do you care about that at all?
Sherlock: Will caring about them help save them?
John: Nope.
Sherlock: Then I'll continue not to make that mistake.
John: And you find that easy, do you?
Sherlock: Yes. Very...Is that news to you?
John: No...no
Sherlock: I've disappointed you.
John: Good! That's a good deduction. Yeah.
Sherlock: Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them.
But Sherlock's nonchalance about human life is challenged, when suddenly the man strapped to the bomb is John. (Another brilliant acting job. Cumberbatch somehow manages to portray Sherlock's sudden fear and vulnerability, while preserving the mask of self-confidence towards Moriarty. That's not a good description...you have to see it...but then you should probably watch it before reading this anyway...) His only friend is in mortal peril, and he is confronted with his brilliantly evil enemy, and he starts to see things John's way:
Jim Moriarty: I have loved this--this little game of ours...Playing Jim from IT...Playing gay...Did you like the little touch with the underwear?
Sherlock: People have died.
Jim Moriarty: That's what people DO!
Sherlock: I will stop you.
This was Sherlock at the beginning of the episode:
John: Try and remember there's a woman who might die.
Sherlock: What for? This hospital's full of people dying, doctor. Why don't you go cry by their bedsides. See what good it does them.
Can you spot the difference?
I end this rambly review-ish thing with another observation.
At the end of "A Study in Pink," Sherlock is about to take the pill. He is compelled to eat it, because he needs the rush to stave off the boredom of living as a genius among lesser mortals. He has been goaded into it by the serial killer cabbie who taunts him with the possibility that he has been outwitted. He is facing possible death. And his hand shakes.
At the end of "The Great Game," Sherlock has his gun trained on the explosives near Moriarty. He is ready to blow up himself and John because it seems they are doomed, and he needs to take Moriarty out as well. He has looked to John, and received a short nod of approval for the action he is about to take. He is facing almost certain death. And his hand is perfectly still.
Now I can only wait for the next season (Fall 2011!?!?!? WHAT?!?!!?!) to see what happens. Will they be saved in a Mycroft ex Machina? Or will we have a Reichenberg Falls-esque opening, with John in the hospital and Sherlock assumed dead? However the screenwriters write everyone out that sticky situation, my main interest is Sherlock's character. Was this just a crack in the facade, as in "The Three Garridebs"? or has Sherlock changed from just a great man, to a good one?
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 01:53 pm (UTC)Warning: Ramblings of my own ahead.
I agree that the question goodness vs greatness raised there is not as prominent in canon, and in essence, I agree with all your musings, but strangely enough, I never doubted that Holmes had become a good man in canon, if he may not have been one in the early years.
In fact, it was only after my involvement in canon that I even began to question it.
Yes, he treats Watson abysmally at times. Yes, he is incredibly selfish when it comes to cases. But...
Maybe canon!Watson was so taken with him because he always saw past the facade, like John seems to do, and past the many flaws of his friend. If I remember correctly, the only real argument between the two of them in canon is over Holmes's drug use and Watson's marriage (even in Empty House, Watson doesn't make much of a fuss), but even later on, Watson criticises Holmes's actions. I remember, for example, his outrage at Holmes's treatment of that unfortunate woman in Charles Augustus Milverton... I always felt that while Holmes might seem to ignore Watson at times, he took his opinion into account.
While his affection might not be entirely evident, there are many passages which show Holmes's trust in Watson, and in his judgement, even admitting Watson's superiority to himself in some areas (even in DYIN, or in The Yellow Face - "Norbury", or in the Stockbroker's Clerk, in which Holmes says that he is grateful for Watson's presence).
This, again, reminds me of that pool scene in Sherlock - there is something Sherlock has to do for the case, for himself, stop the criminal, Moriarty. But it is because he is sure that his decision is the same as John's would be that there is no trace of self-doubt - his hand does not shake.
I would have loved to see such a scene in FINA, but somehow, between the lines, it was always there.
Holmes's insensitivity comes to an end when it comes to justice in a global sense. He may not be fair to others, or even his friend, but he cannot tolerate criminals - there is also the difference between between Sherlock and Jim.
Sherlock does not care because it is no use to him or any of them - because he grieves over the dying, it won't stop it - if he wishes to do that, he has to do his work the only way he knows, and he is of the opinion that feelings would get in the way, while for John, they are the motivator that for Sherlock is justice itself.
Jim does not care simply because he does not care. His victims' deaths are not inevitable, but deliberate. Jim has no value, no motive, nothing but boredom - he is the true sociopath. His criminal activities are a gigantic injustice, and therefore, Sherlock has to stop him.
Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 01:53 pm (UTC)It also seems to me that a man as Watson, with such an education and clearly able to fend for himself, would long have abandoned Holmes if what he writes in 3GAR were true - that this was the only time he ever saw evidence of Holmes's regard for him, of his goodness. Let us not forget, too, Holmes's heartfelt apology after the experiment of the Devil's Foot Root, and his frequent introduction of Watson as a friend. I do think it may be the only time the regard was so unveiled, the vulnerability so evident, but Watson would not have been able to stay with Holmes if he had never before had the feeling that Holmes cared - it would have been inhuman, and no amount of hero-worship can overcome such maltreatment.
I am sure Holmes always could be incredibly insensitive when it came to cases, but I always felt that, deep down, he made an exception for Watson - Watson might very well have been the one to turn him into a good man, even though he never takes credit for it, save when he says the he has managed to put an end to Holmes's addiction.
And in EMPT, when Holmes taunts Moran, it seems to me like he is venting some frustration for his three years of hiding, but that may just be a fanfic-writer's point of view.
Plus, I have always taken his statement in DYIN, that he had forgot about Watson, as part of Holmes's sometimes a bit twisted humour. ;)
I think the main reason while there seems to be such a gap between the good and the great Sherlock in "Sherlock", is that the producers have overexaggerated the original!Holmes's insensitivity by declaring Sherlock is a sociopath, and as such incapable of feeling, which canon!Holmes never was, for all his insensitivity. The question then becomes if Sherlock does indeed feel, or if he is just the calculating machine. And John, just as Watson, never doubts that he can feel, even if it might not be visible to anyone else. John takes it upon himself from the start to force Sherlock to show some of those feeling. Watson is not as foreward, but perhaps the 3GAR are so special for him because he sees that he has succeeded - there finally is proof that behind the great mind, the greatness, there is a great heart - the goodness, of which he had always known that it was there.
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 07:06 pm (UTC)However, I think what you're saying is writing between the lines, not reading between them. Not only because I'd argue the things you mention just aren't there in the text--you're mostly saying this MUST be because really how could Watson stick with Holmes that long otherwise, etc.--but also because Holmes was, I believe, a sort of ideal for ACD. An ideally rational man. When I personally look at Sherlock Holmes, the man who is merely a great brain and the rest is mere appendix, I say HOW DEPRESSING! It's inhuman. But that was a philosophy in that era. (see George Bernard Shaw) There were men who wanted to be Sherlock Holmeses (though they wouldn't have phrased it that way) And Doyle was one of those men. That's why Watson could stick around--because Doyle would stick around.
Of course, I think writing between the lines is a great idea! That is why we write fanfiction. But I guess I've become more and more aware that I'm doing that, and I appreciate the BBC format where they've actually opened up the questions that ACD didn't ask (and that's the big thing for me--he NEVER asks. No matter how much you say, you can extrapolate from X that Holmes must have done Y, ACD never explicitly deals with Holmes's goodness or lack there of) and didn't care to ask about Holmes. Then I don't feel like I'm being a bad reader...because I partly feel that I am...if I try to force my own desire to have Holmes be less of a jerk in ACDs stuff.
I guess the other thing for me personally is that there is a lot of Victorian/Edwardian manners in ACDs stuff that I don't think a lot of us are understanding as manners and no more. Sherlock Holmes speaks quite politely most of the time because he is a Victorian gentleman. And all that "my dear chap" sort of thing is fairly meaningless common usage. It bugs me when I read Holmes fanfic that credits Holmes with the manners as if they are character traits, when they are just the trappings of the times. I loved seeing Sherlock now. In fact, I'd argue that they did not make him worse than he is in canon. They just strip away the Victorianism (can you tell that I cannot stand Victorianism? :-P Love the literature...think it was one of the worst eras of all time...) and give us Sherlock Holmes in a way we can't be confused about. In the same way that they have him using cutting edge technology just like in ACD's stuff, but we can recognize that it is, even if we don't know the history of science and technology in the Victorian era.
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 09:10 pm (UTC)I might have thought that Holmes was exaggerating when he declared that he was nothing but a calculating machine (that quote is, after all, from the Casebook, and there are few stories there that I really enjoy...). Maybe I am guilty of romanticising Holmes's character a bit (and that might be why I love The Lion's Mane (Casebook, too!), because there, Holmes seems the most human to me).
But I agree - a modern Holmes, with that point of view, would not be idealised by society. Scientific objectivity, today, is almost an outdated concept, and often seen as impossible to achieve. And this is why "Sherlock" has to raise the question if a person with such a cynic worldview can be seen as good. Because only today we ask whether what might once have been an ideal is really as desireable, whether even a genius has the right to forsake goodness for greatness.
To Doyle, perhaps the two were synonyms, and I doubt that he ever saw his work as more than a simple mystery story - he did not aim for philosophy, and so, there is none. For him to question that ideal accepted by the public at his time would be to expect too much. (Although, I remember reading that the public was a bit put of by Holmes's insulting behaviour at the time...)
Equally, we question behaviour that is in disaccord with the public ideal today, but not the ideal itself. If Sherlock's behaviour were an ideal today, John wouldn't think of asking those questions. Maybe goodness has replaced the former ideal of greatness as seen in Holmes. The fact that Sherlock does not fit in at all comes from modernising, which may be another reason why only now those questions are being raised. In essence, we have placed a character that follows an outdated ideal in the modern world with very little change - clearly that raises issues.
Interesting on that account is also the series "House M.D." - not sure whether you are familiar with it, but the main character is essentially Holmes as a doctor, and his methods are often unethical. While the series doesn't raise the question as straightforward as "Sherlock", it still has the main character wonder whether his methods are the right ones, even though they often achieve the desired result, because they are not in accord with the rules and ideals of society.
If today someone where to create a really good character, who knows what people will think about that person in a hundred years.
Re: And again Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 09:10 pm (UTC)As such, "Sherlock" is the perfect opportunity for us writers to criticise Holmes without changing, however slightly, his character - as you say, criticism lite!
I also agree, interpreting Holmes from a non-scholarly, but modern standpoint is a curious minefield. It is hard to tell, sometimes, what ACD did intend merely as mannerism, and what are real displays of affection.
I'm not sure Sherlock is exactly Holmes without the mannerisms - if Holmes in the Victorian area choose to stick to some of those despite his character, he must have had some reason for that. Sometimes, when he drops the pretence, even a modern reader notices that he is being impolite.
At times, Sherlock is a little too impolite for my liking. Even in our times, there are certain rules of society, that, if you ignore them, are very likely to push you out of society - I would have assumed that he, too, would at least maintain some pretence, which at the most part, he doesn't. The only time that it happens is when he is clearly and visibly lying through his teeth, for example when he meets Molly in the cafeteria (in fact, I am surprised she doesn't notice!), or when he tries to get into that flat, but he drops the niceties far more quickly than Holmes, and he seems to have an even poorer opinion of them. That is what I mean when I say that the BBC exaggerated his insensitivities a bit. It is just a minor difference, of course, and you are quite correct: it takes away any chance of possible confusion on the viewers part. When Sherlock is insensitive, we know it. That's what modernisation is all about. What it lacks, in my opinion, is the subtlety, the cleverness which Holmes used even when he was insulting his fellow humans face to face. That might be just another part of the Victorian way - you just didn't say 'You idiot!' into the face of another - but it was always something I love about Holmes, and I assume it irks me a little that Sherlock, at least in parts, uses such primitive insults (However, the more clever ones always appease me. The whole exchange with Anderson at the crime scene is priceless!). But yes, if you modernise something, you have to make it understandable for modern viewers, who probably have never heard of any particulars in the Victorian area, and expect insults like they often are our days - straightforward.
So yes, I am looking forward to the next season of "Sherlock", and it will be interesting to see if Sherlock has changed - which I would expect after the way the show has been going - or whether the character development will stop in the theoretical stage. It would be interesting to see a truly good Sherlock...
Re: And again Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 09:39 pm (UTC)The moments I find most interesting are the ones when Sherlock seems nice, but I can't decide what he's thinking. The moment when he tells Molly that Jim is gay, and John chides him, but he says "what? wasn't it nicer." I think he really honestly meant that. He wasn't just being snarky. I also think that when he asks John to make deductions, he is genuinely trying to smooth ruffled feathers. He can't help saying "you got everything wrong." But I think he was trying...
I wouldn't want to see Sherlock morph into a good man quickly. But I want to see progress. (In my headcanon, actually, Sherlock makes strides, but when John gets married, he cuts him completely for a while because he doesn't like to share his toys...)
I agree with what happens in fanfic completely, actually. It's like a self-feeding monster. And if you try to do something different, you just don't get much attention. I am selfish enough to just write a completely unfluffy Holmes (and Sherlock), and just commiserate about the lack of attention with people who feel as I do on the issue. :-P (I have a friend in LotR fiction who goes against the grain of fluffiness, and she's a REALLY good, interesting writer...but as a result she doesn't get many reviews at all...)
(Of course...my Sherlock keeps getting un-fluffy-er because I'm a bit of a rebel. But I think I'm going in the right direction, because I still have so much girly, hurt/comfort-y influence that I need to throw off. Hehe.)
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 09:29 pm (UTC)I do like House. I haven't watched it through...but as far as I have seen it's just giving us that love/hate relationship you have to have with Holmes because he's such a jerk, and once in a while tantalizing us with the idea that he might become good, and then crushing us. Like...HAHA! He'll never be good and YOU LOVE IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
:-)
I think it is interesting to think about the fact that emotions can be dangerous. (I really like in BBC Sherlock when John gets a little bit angry, and he says "there are hundreds of people dying, Doctor. Why don't you go cry by their bedsides." It's a good argument, but ultimately I don't buy it.
I, too, didn't think so much about EMPT until I got into fandom. However, I've been interested in Holmes's lack of emotion/lack of willingness to state that he cared pretty much from the first time I read it. I really liked that moment in 3GAR. It was only as I started to think more about the cowardliness that would make someone be unwilling to EVER express love (and I don't mean soppiness...I am always torn in this fandom, because on the one hand there is the slash, which I hate, and then on the other there is the soppy soppy not-slash, which makes me want to barf...and very little Sherlock Holmes being Sherlock Holmes...if that makes any sense...) to the one person they cared about. That's really a selfish thing, and it took my growing up to see, for example, how much that hurts. I think the quotation I gave from C.S. Lewis (and really all of the Four Loves) is what sent me on that track. And that's when I realized that 3GAR is as horrifying as is is heart warming. The EMPT thing came later, after I had read some fanfiction dealing with it...but as I said in my one post, I've realized that was a girly thing. :-P
DYIN I think is a clear state of Holmes being an absolute jerk, and Watson being nauseatingly, almost Nigel-Bruce-ly fawning. I still don't think Watson would angst over it for days, as some fanwriters have had him do, but I would really have liked Watson to actually be a man for one moment in the story. I rewrote it in BBC verse, because it makes me so mad. It was quite cathartic. Hehe.
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 11:05 pm (UTC)Sometimes, I am not quite sure whether it was not stories as those - DYIN, especially - that led Doyle to having such a bad opinion of Watson as a character.
We fans do tend to pretend that it was Watson who wrote the stories, and it makes us feel... offended when he acts like a bumbling idiot; but ultimately, it's Doyle. I wonder whether ACD sometimes regretted how some things turned out... It's interesting that none of the stories mostly discussed in fandom, with the exception of FINA and EMPT, are included in the list of Doyle's most favourite stories - neither 3GAR nor DYIN. Ah, I guess he was just human after all, and nobody's perfect. ;)
I agree that there is something horrifying in that inability - maybe I realise it more in House than in Holmes, or Sherlock, strangely enough. It is, after all, a drama - and you are quite right, it is a love/hate relationship. :)
But this just shows that, in essence, we agree in our interpretation, and only differ slightly. I am sure this conversation will stay in my mind, and maybe, when I write my next story, I will go back to the roots and write Sherlock Holmes as he is - without fluffiness and girlyness ;).
It was such a pleasure to have this discussion with you - that's why I love LJ so much. It's just a perfect opportunity to exchange thoughts and ideas in fandom, and, maybe even gain some new points of view. Thanks :)
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-24 11:44 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed that DYIN story. I do have a theory that people don't review on stories by authors they don't know...so this is more data for my lj-behavior observation. :-P
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-25 02:11 pm (UTC)But it's true, sometimes it seems like we don't even read stories from authors we don't know - there is never any telling what warning they might have forgotten ;).
Re: Continued...
Date: 2011-03-25 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-03 02:37 am (UTC)