strange and random happenstance

Felines of New York by Jim Tews
Published by: Simon and Schuster
Publication Date: November 24th, 2015
Format: Paperback, 240 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:
"Featuring more than 100 photos and quotes from cats in America’s most glamorous city, Felines of New York exposes the furry underbelly of New York City’s most glamorous, self-important residents.

Where the humans of New York are accomplished, interesting, thoughtful, creative, and even sometimes tragic figures, the cats are simply cats. They do not stand in line for brunch, or have season tickets to the Met, or go indoor-rock climbing in Brooklyn. They do not shop at thrift stores or nibble finger sandwiches at the Russian Tea Room. And they certainly do not give a flying f*ck about the Yankees.

No, the felines of New York bathe, purr, bask languidly in the sun, and occasionally cast baleful glances at the humans who provide them food and shelter. They are proof that behind every New Yorker, there lays a cat just waiting to destroy their IKEA futon and then eat their faces off when they die."

As for the "Humans of New York" trend I could take it or leave it... but the furry kitty counterpart? The world and my Facebook feed would be a bleaker place without it.

Sherlock Holmes: The Novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Penguin Classics
Publication Date: November 24th, 2015
Format: Paperback, 608 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:
"All four legendary Sherlock Holmes novels, collected in a unique Graphic Deluxe Edition with an introduction by Michael Dirda.

Though endlessly reinterpreted, reinvented, and imitated, the Sherlock Holmes stories have never been surpassed. Sporting his signature billowing coat and pipe in hand, the genius investigator Holmes captivates readers with his alluring melancholy and superhuman intuition, while his partner, Dr. Watson, remains ever the perfect foil, a classic Victorian gentleman with brilliant intellect. Collected here are all four Holmes novels—A Study in Scarlet, The Sign of Four, The Hound of the Baskervilles, and The Valley of Fear—tracing the origins of the pair up through showdowns with their greatest archenemies, including the infamous Professor Moriarty. Set in the seductive shadow world of Victorian London, the stories of Holmes and Watson live on, as immediate and original in our time as in their own.

For more than sixty-five years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,500 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators."

Seeing as we're in the midst of "Sherlocked" this is a very appropriate book to buy... plus seriously, look at that awesome cover. Damn you Penguin making me buy all the books! ALL OF THEM! But, the separate Sherlock adventures are better than the short stories in my opinion, so this is totally a solid buy.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle, Cats, Felines of New York, Jim Tews, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Sign of the Four, The Valley of Fear, Tuesday Tomorrow

The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1915
Format: Hardcover, 320 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Holmes has a snitch in Moriarty's organization. This snitch warns him of the impending murder of one John Douglas. Just as Holmes finishes perusing the note the police arrive to ask for his help in the murder of one John Douglas of Birlstone Manor in Sussex. Holmes's snitch lost his nerve and sent the note too late. Of course this only whets Holmes's appetite for the crime, because it obviously has some connection to Moriarty. The case is a perplexing one. Birlstone Manor is a moated property, with the drawbridge raised every night. John Douglas was shot at point blank range with a double barrelled shotgun blast to the face, yet only his house guest, Cecil Barker, heard the shot and was at the scene of the crime in minutes. Yet he didn't see the shooter. The only way the killer could have escaped is out the window and across the moat, which could be waded. Yet there are too many inconsistencies with the story and two things bother Holmes. One is that the victim's wedding ring was removed, though it was always beneath a second ring, which was still present. But more importantly, there is an exercise weight in the room. Only a single one. Where is it's mate? As Holmes pieces together what happened at Birlstone Manor he realizes that it is only the dead man or his killer who can tell the whole story, going back years ago to America, long before Cecil Barker met John Douglas, to the time before John's first marriage, to the deadly Scowrers.

The Valley of Fear is an odd edition to the canon of Sherlock Holmes. Once again Arthur Conan Doyle bowed to the pressure of his reading public and brought back his famous consulting detective, but in the most halfhearted way possible. The entire book feels as if it's balanced on a knife's edge between the extremes of not caring and finding some way to make it about anything other than Holmes. The most obvious aspect of Conan Doyle's laziness is that the structure of the book harks directly back to A Study in Scarlet. First half Holmes, second half America, back to Watson for the epilogue. This structure didn't really work the first time yet here we are in the same situation again. Yet this recurrence could have been forgiven had the initial mystery held, oh, I don't know, some mystery. What is in essence a locked room mystery, the cornerstone of compelling whodunits, is anything but captivating. In fact I was far more interested in the architectural design of the house where the murder occurred which was reminiscent of Madresfield Court, which is the ancestral seat of the Lygon family, than the crime which I solved ludicrously fast. You might say, oh, she's over-exaggerating her own crime solving prowess and the murder really was worthy of Holmes. No, I'm not, and no, it was not, hence my being able to solve it with such rapidity. The second the corpse was revealed with his face blown off and a missing wedding ring, I knew that the corpse laying on the floor wasn't the intended victim. It was all stage dressing, and clumsily done at that.

Which brings me back to the fact that this wasn't a crime worthy of Holmes. And the truth is, I think Conan Doyle did this on purpose. He no longer wanted to write about Holmes, so he couldn't be bothered. In fact with the second half of the book being set in America and not concerning Holmes he is quite obviously taking a step back from his famous detective. Holmes isn't really necessary for this story to work, he's more a deus ex machina, coming in and explaining what happened to wrap everything up. The Valley of Fear is written in such a way that it's a Sherlock Holmes book without really being a Sherlock Holmes book. All the writing prowess of Conan Doyle was exerted in the second part of the book with the Scowrers. Here he cared about writing a compelling narrative about evil men and secret societies. This is where Conan Doyle wanted to focus his energies, and so he did. He created a rather compelling second act, and I'm sure, if it was up to him, that would have been all he wrote. But he halfheartedly put together this framing device with Holmes so that the book is "technically" a Sherlock Holmes book. It makes me wonder what his reading public thought of it when it was published in 1915. Did they feel cheated? Was it a bait and switch? Or were they OK with the book because it had been ten long years since they'd had any new stories and therefore they took what they could get?

Or was the public appeased because of the Moriarty factor? Because incongruously, there is a strong Moriarty factor. I say incongruously because when this Napoleon of crime was introduced in "The Final Problem" he had never been heard of before. In fact Watson makes a big to-do about not knowing anything about Holmes's so-called arch-nemesis. Yet here Conan Doyle is going against his own set canon having Moriarty wandering about prior to "The Final Problem" with Watson and the police all in the "know." It feels like there's too much back-peddling and re-writing in The Valley of Fear for my taste. Conan Doyle didn't know that Moriarty would seize the imagination of his readers so strongly, therefore he was underused at the time, just a device to rid himself of Holmes. Yet seize their imaginations he did and Conan Doyle brought him back in the only way he could. So whereas his love of writing Holmes might have waned, he still was intrigued by this master criminal and was therefore willing to bring him back as a way to enliven Holmes's narrative. It was also probably a way to remind his readers that at any time Holmes might stop exhibiting his deity-like powers and be resurrected no more. So, perhaps it was more a threat than anything else? But the problem of Moriarty, coupled with the book's structure, is the whole story feels like it's in some way-back machine where it was picking and choosing what had previously worked and creating some semblance of a Holmes story while really wanting to be anything but.

What surprised me about The Valley of Fear was that unlike A Study in Scarlet, the American half of the book actually felt fresh and compelling. Unlike the bizarre fever dream of Mormonism in A Study in Scarlet, Conan Doyle creates a gritty world reminiscent of Deadwood and Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest. This actually feels like a probable America, most likely because it was loosely based on real events. Reading it I was surprised by how relevant and modern it felt. When you think about Sherlock Holmes it is always as that outre detective working within a staid Victorian society. There is that nostalgia factor. Yet as Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss so rightly did when they revitalized the stories for Sherlock they focused on the fact that the stories weren't meant to be caught in these Victorian trappings. The stories were contemporary, of their time, and fresh. Why else were they so popular? Reading them a hundred years later it is almost impossible not to be caught up in the Victoriana, in the minutiae. But then you read The Valley of Fear and it smacks you in the face. It's so alive, so dark, so gritty, so full of corruption and bleakness that you get it. All of a sudden you get that Conan Doyle, while somehow caught in the amber of the past, really isn't of the past, he's creating studies of human nature that are just as relevant today as they were a hundred years ago!

Yet for all that is right, he still has some American issues. Much like we, as readers, have stereotyped him as the writer of the preeminent Victorian consulting detective, he has stereotyped us Americans. And once again the misconceptions and errors run rampant. Firstly, seeing as every American woman is trapped in a doomed love triangle where one of the suitors kills the other, usually after years, where is my doomed love triangle? I have spent my entire life to date without a doomed love triangle and according to Conan Doyle that means I'm not a real American woman. Also, where the hell does this story take place? For a quarter of the book I was sure it was somewhere out west, but slowly I had inklings that it might be Pennsylvania, and since when is Detroit considered the far north? Because Madison is more north than Detroit... so what does that make where I live? Probably Canada according of Conan Doyle... And while I really liked the inclusion of the Pinkertons, and oh, the irony of them being founded by a Masonic Order only to bring one down, I do laugh, I have Pinkerton issues. Mainly my Pinkerton issues are that by this time Pinkertons weren't all good guys. In fact, not to put to fine a point on it, they were kind of evil with their tactics and strikebreaking. So while they do employ underhanded techniques, their ambiguous moral code isn't even touched upon, making them kind of look like heroes, when they are anything but. But then again, Conan Doyle isn't really one for the whole "accuracy" angle, especially as regards anything American.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dashiell Hammett, Deadwood, Madresfield, Masonic, Moriarty, Pinkertons, Red Harvest, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, The Final Problem, The Valley of Fear, Victorian

The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1905
Format: Hardcover, 381 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Many surprises are in store for Watson, the erstwhile chronicler of Sherlock Holmes. Since Holmes's death Watson has had quite a different life. He no longer writes about that great detective, he has put down his pen because the subject is just too painful. He has also lost his wife, their wedded bliss lasted only six years before she died. Watson is just plodding along, doing his duties to his patients, till everything changes. Holmes faked his own death and the time has come to reveal his resurrection. Moriarty's second-in-command Moran is about to be apprehended and it is now safe for Holmes to come out of hiding and reveal his continued existence to his dearest friend and companion, Watson. After Sebastian Moran is finally behind bars Holmes hopes that Watson will return with him to 221B and that their old bachelor crime solving days will recommence. The cases are even more illustrious than before, as the world rejoices at Holmes returning to put the criminal element in it's place. There is ironically a case about a man who fakes his own death, another about an infernally annoying code using dancing men, some waving little flags. As always money is a great motivator for crime, from inheritances to stolen jewels. While some of the cases are barely worthy of Sherlock, there are others that spur him to drastic, even criminal measures. One thing is certain, the world is a better place with Holmes waiting to solve your problems.

I can see why Conan Doyle tried to kill off his most famous creation. You reach a point when you feel there's nothing left to say, no more variations on a theme available. All the stories have been told. If I'm having trouble searching for new insights for yet another Sherlock Holmes review, can you imagine trying to find some new way in which to inveigle Holmes in yet another ingenious mystery? Let alone devise that mystery? Death might easily have been the only answer. Luckily for his readers it didn't stick. Conan Doyle finally caved to his eager public and their demands and The Return of Sherlock Holmes collects the next thirteen short stories of Holmes and Watson after a ten year absence. Yet I think it was very much a reluctant return. It's not that the stories aren't of the same caliber, or that Holmes is less brilliant, it's the undertone of the stories that struck me as poignant. I think it's not a coincidence that blackmail features so heavily among these tales. Conan Doyle was coerced into returning to writing Holmes; and while he went on to write another stand-alone book and two more collections of short stories, he always thought his energies would have been better spent elsewhere. His fans would disagree with this assertion I am sure, but I feel his pain... I still have something to say, but will I still have something to say come the final volume? I can't be sure and I can't condone the pigeonholing of anyone with artistic sensibilities. Change is good for the soul, and Holmes isn't one to embrace change.

After reading this book, especially combined with A Study in Scarlet, I seriously would like to know what Conan Doyle has against Americans. Yes, I've mentioned this before, but seriously, it's too weird not to bring it up again. As an American myself, it's just weird reading these stories, such as this volume's "The Adventure of the Dancing Men," wherein Conan Doyle's ignorance of America is only outdone by his obvious dislike of it. America is portrayed as a backward society full of violent people who for some reason strongly believe in the binding oath of arranged marriages. Seriously? Arranged marriages? Is this something that they just skipped over in history class wherein 19th century America was all about matchmaking? In fact, if you go to Wikipedia, you will notice that like England and Europe, ALL of North America is exempt from the tradition of these arranged marital alliances. Suck it Conan Doyle! Plus the violent American spurned bridegroom is another erroneous trope that Conan Doyle seems to take glee in writing. I can only thank the powers that be that we were spared Conan Doyle going into any detail about the child crime ring in Chicago. As someone whose ancestors lived in Chicago at the time period that Abe Slaney and Elsie Patrick of the aforementioned story did, I dread to contemplate what Conan Doyle's view of Chicago was...

Getting away from Conan Doyle's ignorance and prejudices and back to Holmes there is an aspect of Holmes that is getting on my nerves more and more. Whenever Holmes meets someone for the first time he does his signature trick of reading them and then telling them the details of their lives that make it look like he is a magician. He then explains how he reached these conclusions. The dirt on their shoes, the indent on their finger, the tailoring of their clothes, everything tells a story to Holmes. This isn't what I dislike. In fact, this is always the fun part of any story, Holmes proving his superior deductive abilities to the world at large. Also, his explanation isn't annoying either. What's annoying is that Holmes gets angry that after he explains how he did it everyone sees it as an "easy" trick. If you get mad at people when you willingly give them insight into how something is done then don't give them insight! It's like Houdini showing everyone how his magic is done and then being pissy that they no longer view it as magic. If it's explained it's no longer magic, it's as simple as that. In fairness to Holmes, he does want his techniques known so his explanation is logical. But he wants his techniques known in a scientific and rational way, not in the sensational way Watson writes it up. So therefore he needs to start embracing willingly sharing his techniques to his clients and his friends and this includes letting go of his huffy attitude when the simplicity of the observation is understood. And if he worries that sharing his gift will make him unnecessary, to that I say I don't think there are many people who can tell the different types of mud or tobacco.

The story that stood out most to me of the thirteen was "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton." Yes, it did partly stand out because they used it as the arc of the most recent season of Sherlock; but more importantly, it stood out because Holmes and Watson set themselves clearly on the wrong side of the law and have fun doing it. Holmes even muses that if he had set his mind to it that he could have been quite the criminal genius. I personally have no doubt that he could be such a criminal, in fact, I often wonder why he solves crimes at all. He has no actual interest in his clients. In fact in "The Adventure of the Six Napoleons" he once again shows his callousness by assuming that everyone, especially his clients, have the same indifference to money as he does, and therefore greatly harms his client's pocketbook. He is only interested in things that will challenge his mind. In fact, he often has a hard time finding anything to divert him and be the least bit challenging. I would assume, with the glee he takes in playing the criminal, that actually taking to a life of crime would provide more range for his abilities. He wouldn't have to wait for someone to commit a mind-boggling and devious act, he could create them. And in fact in my second favorite story here, "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange," he lets a murderer go because he views this as true justice. Holmes is so close to stepping over the line I say he should just do it, become the new, and far cleverer Moriarty. There is a gap left in the world of crime from his departure...

Which in a roundabout way brings me to guilt. The more stories I read about Sherlock Holmes the more I realize he doesn't have any guilty clients. Now only a fool who committed a crime would hire Sherlock Holmes to look into the case, but still, people are amazing for the capability of deluding themselves. Holmes does mention one murderer who tried to hire him and was shown the door... but has Holmes ever mistakenly taken on a guilty party as his client? Has he ever committed such a faux pas? Occasionally his clients die, sometimes due to his negligence, but do they ever do the evil deed and cause someone else's death? Because as his clients are currently represented this would mean that Holmes is infallible, and I don't think this is the case at all. I think that Holmes is, very occasionally, human. So the question becomes, is Watson skewing the narrative to make Holmes look more God like? Is he expurgating the cases? It is something to wonder on... I almost hope that in one of the upcoming stories that this happens, just because it would shake things up a bit. The more I read, the more the similarities are apparent from case to case and just once I would like something radically different. Yes, Holmes playing criminal was nice... but let's switch things up even more. How about a criminal who doesn't confess everything? How about Holmes finding the evil doer and them being exonerated in a court of law because Holmes's evidence is so esoteric that the judge and jury find it unbelievable? Because, seriously, would most of Holmes's evidence stand up in a court of law? It's more than a little inconceivable.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Blackmail, Criminal, Guilt, John Watson, Moriarty, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Return of Sherlock Holmes

Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1892
Format: Hardcover, 307 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Holmes and Watson have had some unique adventures over the years and Watson has decided to share the choice stories, even if Holmes disapproves. They are all individual in some way that attracted Holmes to them, though some of them, like "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle," just landed in their laps on a dull Christmas Eve, or more aptly, their dinner plates. Many of the tales actually have no crimes, per se, but that doesn't mean their isn't a mystery! And if it wasn't for Holmes untangling all the threads the police would have spent much time and possibly never learned that there actually was no crime. Money and greed is always a factor in crime perpetrated against people and institutions... sometimes on a grand scale, and sometimes in a very intimate fashion. Sometimes though it's a matter of revenge, years in the planning till finally the opportunity presents itself. And then, sometimes it's about something which Sherlock knows little about, love. It is with one of these cases that Sherlock finally meets THE woman of his life, Irene Adler. Holmes has only been outwitted four times in his long career, and only once by a woman. That woman was Irene Adler. She was just as clever as Holmes, but possessed true emotion, which Holmes viewed as a hindrance. Maybe she teaches him that it can be a benefit... she at least leaves a lasting impression.

While I usually have great issues with short stories, in that they have an inconsistency in quality which can have a stellar story followed by a disaster, I think that in the case of Sherlock Holmes it really works. With his first two books it felt as if Conan Doyle was stretching the story in order to give it greater weight and length; but the format of little short mysteries wherein you can sit down and enjoy one in about an hour before you go to bed is just right. As for the inconsistency, well, in this case a lot of it has to do with Conan Doyle developing as a writer. About half way through this collection, specifically during "The Five Orange Pips," you will literally be struck by how much more confident his writing is. What before was uneven is now smooth. This is perceptibly visible with each story's beginning. I wonder if Conan Doyle regretted marrying Watson off in The Sign of the Four because almost every one of these adventures has to justify Watson's presence at 221B. In the later adventures it's handled cleverly, either the story is set prior to the wedding, Watson is the instigator of the adventure, or it's just assumed that they were working in partnership. But these reasons are once Conan Doyle was more accomplished, prior to the shift, well, it doesn't just seem forced, but ham-handed. Almost each story starts "I was near 221B Baker Street and wondered what Holmes was up to." Seriously Watson? "Let's see what Holmes is up to!" Ugh. It just is a juvenile qualifier to start the story and lessens the tale as a whole by starting off on a wrong and amateurish footing. It's like forcing the story to start when it needs a more natural beginning.

Yet I realized something interesting with the development of Holmes and Watson's relationship. Yes, Holmes needs Watson to be his "biographer" as it were to feed his ego, but he also needs Watson to provide a more engaging tale. Of all the cases they handle they don't always handle them together, sometimes Watson is nothing more than a sounding board that sits in a chair and listens to Holmes. In one instance he is literally housebound due to his war injury. The cases where Holmes is out and about solving crime and then Watson is just in for the denouement are boring. We, as readers, are just reading a precise of what Holmes was up to. And while this might entertain Holmes's number one fanboy Watson, for us readers it doesn't. I don't want to be the person who just stops in every evening to 221B to get the latest news, I want to be in on the action! That is exactly why Watson is important! When he is in on the action we don't get the bare facts, we get insight into things that Holmes thinks are beneath him, like how the clouds look and was there a pretty sunset while they hunted over a certain moor. While this might seem a 180 from my previous mocking of Watson's florid prose, I counter with the fact that we need them, to a certain extent. Plus Watson has reigned them in a bit. Without this other context Holmes's adventures would read like police reports. Of course that is what Holmes would like, the science without the superfluous. But we need a bit of superfluous. 

Watson also humanize Holmes to a certain extent. In his first two stories he was very inhuman in his abilities and was kind of looked at as an oddity who was also a genius. Someone alien is hard to relate to. You can admire him, but you can't connect. Watson gives us a connection, an "in" into the stories. Hence, as I mentioned previously, they need to be working side by side. Though people might joke about Holmes's disconnect from emotion and people while still having such insight, sometimes he is way to callous for comfort. In "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle" a down and out man who would have been the unexpected recipient of the lustrous jewel is bought off with a goose. Um... shouldn't he be getting the reward money that was offered at least? He had the luck to get the goose that laid the golden egg and he gets nothing and Holmes doesn't even have a backward glance for this poor soul. In "The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb" he tries to cheer up Victor Hatherley that although he might have lost his thumb, almost lost his life, and was out his promised money, at least he has a great story! What the heck! Great way to console someone Holmes, it's all about the entertaining story, not about losing your opposable thumb! And then in "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor" he is offended that the bachelor in question, aka the bridegroom, won't sit down to a hearty meal with the woman he lost... excuse me? Holmes actually thought that everything would be fine? Seriously, he knows so much but is sometimes so dumb. And that's not even going into the full ramifications of "The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet!"

Which brings me in a roundabout way to Irene Adler. Firstly, Adler herself is a conundrum in the cannon of Holmes. She has one brief appearance in one story, "A Scandal in Bohemia," but can be found in almost all adaptations, continuations, what have you. This one character has taken on a significance almost greater than Watson. There is part of me which wonders if this is to balance the male and female dynamic in the works of Conan Doyle. Quite literally there aren't many women, and when they do appear in stories such as "The Adventure of the Speckled Band," "A Case of Identity" and "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches," they are just pawns in a greater game so that their families can steal their fortunes. Therefore Irene seems to be the great leveler. Here is someone who is not only female, but she bests Sherlock Holmes. She makes women of significance, though one should note that this is only for the readers, for Holmes she is the ONLY woman of significance. What I find interesting about Irene Adler is that she is almost the exact opposite of Holmes. She doesn't view emotions as unnecessary and stumbling blocks to solving cases. She uses them to her benefit and she outwits Holmes. Which makes me wonder if Holmes ever thought after their encounter if he was doing something wrong. Could he do what he does without shutting down human emotions? Holmes wouldn't be the man we know... but perhaps he would be a better man.

One thing this collection brought home to me once again is that for all that Holmes knows, Conan Doyle himself is quite ignorant on many things, and many of these things are related to the great U. S. of A. What bothers me even more is that this perpetuates myths and stereotypes about the country I happen to call home. And it's not just his not quite getting political and religious organizations, he needs to freakin' look at a map. This all started back with A Study in Scarlet. While Conan Doyle later went on to apologize about the atrocities and lies he propagated about the Mormons with his incorrect data, he didn't apologize for geographical errors. I would sincerely like to know how the Mormons on their journey from Illinois to Utah, which I have taken by train I might add, went through the alkali salt flats of Nevada... the state even further away from Illinois than their destination. As for the KKK in "The Five Orange Pips," ugh. The naivety of Conan Doyle just drove me to distraction sometimes. I mean really. This just gets under my skin. Holmes is supposed to be mystical in his all knowing prowess and yet time and time again whenever America comes up Conan Doyle's ignorance rears it's ugly head. Which kind of brings all the writing down a peg. If something that any American could point to as wrong is given as fact, what else is wrong in these books? How infallible was Holmes really? And all because of his creator...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 221B, A Study in Scarlet, Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, America, Arthur Conan Doyle, Biographer, Irene Adler, John Watson, KKK, Money, Mormons, Murder, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Sign of the Four, The Woman

The Sign of the Four by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1890
Format: Hardcover, 125 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Miss Mary Morstan comes to Sherlock Holmes asking him to help her solve two mysteries in her life, that may or may not be related. The first is the disappearance of her father, Captain Arthur Morstan, ten years previously, the second is that four years after her father's death she answered a newspaper ad as to her whereabouts and started receiving a pearl a year, only this year was different, there was a note with the pearl saying that she had been wronged and asking for a meeting. The only item Mary has that might be of relevance is a map that was hidden in her father's desk with four men's names on it. Holmes immediately takes the case and finds that the pearls started arriving shortly after the death of Captain Arthur Morstan's friend and comrade in arms, Major Sholto. In fact the anonymous benefactor of Mary Morstan is one of Major Sholto's sons, Thaddeus. He tells Mary about a great treasure their fathers had brought back from India. A treasure that has been hidden all these many years until Thaddeus's brother Bartholomew found it the day he sent Mary the note. They arrive to find Bartholomew dead via a dart in the neck with a menacing note next to his body, just like the one found years earlier on Major Sholto, "The Sign of Four." Holmes quickly realizes the crime was committed by a man with one wooden leg and a rather small accomplice. They should be unique enough that finding them shouldn't be a problem, just a matter of waiting. Yet all the while Thaddeus is held in custody for his brother's murder and Watson is finding it hard to concentrate when he is bewitched by the lovely Miss Morstan. Yet with Holmes on the case, the truth will out.

The Sign of Four, or more accurately, The Sign of the Four because you learn something new everyday, is perhaps the Sherlock Holmes story I know the best out of all the stories. I remember when the adaptation with Jeremy Brett first aired in the late eighties. It was the first feature length special for the series and therefore a big to-do. Every one of the eventual five feature length adaptations would be a special occasion in my house growing up, in particular The Last Vampyre because of Roy Marsden, but you never forget the first one. I even remember that we bought it on tape. Whenever we needed a mystery to watch, into the VCR The Sign of Four would go. It didn't hurt that Watson was now played by Edward Hardwicke, I was never the fan of David Burke that my mom was. The problem going into the book is I knew this story backwards and forwards. I knew all the little twists and shocking revelations. I tried my hardest to look at this story with new eyes, but I just couldn't. All I could see was Tonga's evil face on the stern of the ship as it disappeared into the dark and foggy Thames. Not being caught up in the mystery, lots of little things started to annoy me to no end and while the story is interesting, I'd heard it all before and therefore it had the feeling of a story you've heard so many times it's worn out it's welcome.

What really bothered me was how florid the writing of Watson is. Right now I'm totally coming down on the side of Sherlock who doesn't quite approve of the way that Watson writes, making it all romantic with a heavy heaping of nostalgia. Some of the romanticism is permitted in this instance as this is when Watson meets his future wife, Mary Morstan, but overall I'm siding with Holmes. This writing style just makes a mystery you're reading for the crime solving techniques of Holmes overwritten, to the point where Watson is almost obfuscating the deductive powers of his partner. But that is nothing to his sycophantic ways. Ugh. You can see where the whole "couple" theory emerged with Watson and Holmes, Watson totally wants to get a room with Holmes. If they were in high school he'd totally ask to carry his books, and maybe go steady. Yes, I know bromances have changed over the past hundred and twenty-five years, but there's admiration and there's adulation, and Watson is very much of the later. Holmes, you're so wonderful, only you could think of that, I would never have seen that in a million billion years, you are the smartest person that will ever exist, ever. Ugh. What's worse is the police getting in on this action. While Watson may be exaggerating the police's love, they do admire him to such an inconceivable degree that they're willing to break procedure for him. Holmes, you want the suspect brought to your house prior to going to prison so you can interrogate him? Sure, why not, anything for you Holmes. Ugh.

I wonder if there's some magical aura about Holmes that just makes everyone his to command. How else does he get the criminals to willingly tell all? It's such a cliched trope. Now Mr. Bond, while it looks like there's no way out for you I will detail all my plans so that when you escape the inescapable you will be able to thwart me. Sigh. This is the second Holmes story and also the second time the criminal comes clean. About everything. In A Study in Scarlet you can kind of get Jefferson Hope confessing all because he's about to die. Also, you could state that Jonathan Small confessed because he wasn't actually a killer, he was an unwitting accomplice to that crime, but still... it's too convenient. The only real purpose I can see to have these villains unburden themselves is that by having them tell everything they are corroborating Holmes's deductions. Because, without corroborating evidence, Holmes's hypothesises seem wildly absurd and almost complete shots in the dark that somehow find their target. It just is all too pat. Like the more cliched of Agatha Christie denouements when Poirot rounds everyone up in the library and states everything he knows and unmasks the villain. Sure, I could give it slack because it's fiction, but I won't. Fiction is better than reality and therefore has it's own set of rules and convenient tropes should be beneath Arthur Conan Doyle.

There is one thing I would like to ponder in a more generalized way, and that's lost treasure from India and the peril that befalls the criminals. In mysteries it comes across to readers that India is a continent awash with missing jewels and loot, all with guardians or some sort of curse. I don't know if I could actually remember every book and movie that has this trope but The Moonstone, The Ruby in the Smoke, and even The Pink Panther, all have this in common. And in each and every instance, something befalls those who removed the jewels from their rightful place. Seriously, how does one continent have so many jewels? Is this the real reason that Britain wanted to maintain control over India, because they thought it was awash with loot ripe for the picking? Yes, there's a romanticism associated with India and there's a mysticism with the culture that imbues magic to their jewels, even Indiana Jones fell prey to this; but after awhile, it's like, how many more stories will I have to read like this? How many times will it play out in the same way? Because the truth of the matter is The Moonstone and Wilkie Collins set the tone and the stage for this trope, and I don't think anyone will ever reach that level of perfection again. The Moonstone predates The Sign of the Four by over twenty years, and the later can not help but be compared to the former and found lacking. Sherlock Holmes may be a master of deduction, but in a story where every one is a pale imitator of the original, he had no chance to succeed.

Though for everything that got under my skin there was one thing this book did SO RIGHT and that's blow darts. Seriously, I think this is one of the coolest murder weapons out there, and ironically my love and reverence for them started with Sherlock Holmes, only Sherlock Holmes the younger. In the Young Sherlock Holmes the evil villain's sister uses a blow dart as her weapon of choice, and also shows what I fear most about them, them being used against you, when Sherlock blows in the out and kills the killer. So, they aren't a perfect weapon, seeing as they can be used against you, but at the same time, there's something so amusing about someone blowing through a tube and someone falling down dead or incapacitated that makes me giddy. If you doubt the humor value of blow darts instead focusing on the horror, I implore you to watch the Red Dwarf season seven episode "Beyond a Joke." In the episode there is a virtual reality game of Pride and Prejudice. The character of Kryten is annoyed that the rest of his shipmates have decided to play the game versus eat the lovely dinner he has prepared for them. Therefore he enters the game and eliminates each and every Bennet sister in a unique manner. Kitty is the victim of a blow dart. This one scene is perhaps my favorite and easily the funniest in one of my favorite series ever. So let's bring back blow darts shall we?

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 2 comments  

Labels: A Study in Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle, Blow Darts, Bromance, India, Jeremy Brett, John Watson, Pride and Prejudice, Red Dwarf, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, The Moonstone, The Sign of the Four, Wilkie Collins

A Study in Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle
Published by: Book-of-the-Month Club
Publication Date: 1887
Format: Hardcover, 131 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Doctor John Watson has been invalided out of the army and is looking for a place to call home. He runs into an old colleague, Stamford, who says that he knows someone else who is looking for a roommate, having found the perfect place at 221B Baker Street. He warns Watson that Sherlock Holmes is a little odd. Watson readily agrees to room with this intriguing man, who knows so much about certain sciences, yet doesn't know the earth goes around the sun. One day over breakfast Watson reads an incredulous article in the paper about the science of deduction and thinks it is pure bunkum. Holmes is a little miffed, he wrote the article after all and decides to prove the truth of it by having Watson tag along when he leaves the house on one of his mysterious errands. It turns out that Holmes is the world's only consulting detective and he has been summoned to a crime scene by Scotland Yard. There lies the body of Enoch Drebber. Dead but without a mark on him. Written on the wall in blood is the world "rache." A close examination of the crime scene, a visit to the officer who was first on the scene, a few telegrams later, and Holmes knows who the killer is. Not only that, he is able to produce the killer in the sitting room of 221B Baker Street for the police officers. The explanation as to how he came to his conclusion is a much longer story and involves love, marriage, and Mormons.

Despite watching so many adaptations of the Sherlock Holmes stories, other then possibly reading The Hound of the Baskervilles in grade school, I had never picked up any of Arthur Conan Doyle's books to read. So quite a few years back now I picked up A Study in Scarlet and I couldn't actually believe that this was how the greatest consulting detective of all time started out. Firstly, I was bored. But more importantly it seems more like a treatise against Mormonism than anything else. I mean, in all seriousness, what was Arthur Conan Doyle's issue with the Mormons? Because there isn't just dislike, there is hate emanating out of these pages. Fiery, burn in the hottest circles of hell hate. I couldn't really get past the fact that so little of the book was the actual mystery and so much of the book was a rallying cry against religion that I quite quickly decided to not read any further in the Sherlockian oeuvre until I could rectify my expectations with reality. So, obviously that took a few years, and my newish addiction to Sherlock coupled with the dearth of new episodes made me realize that perhaps the time had come to read all the Sherlock Holmes books. All of them! At least I was prepared for A Study in Scarlet this time around, so there wasn't going to be any surprises. Or so I thought. I was actually surprised that I really liked it.

This second reading of the book produced an unexpected enjoyment and it is all down to Sherlock and Benedict Cumberbatch. I literally can not count the number of times I have watched the nine episodes that currently exist in this series, but that first season, and that pilot episode are easily the ones I have watched the most. From what I remember of all the stories Conan Doyle had written, this modern retelling is a loose interpretation. They pick out details here and there and spin them into something new and exciting. Having forgotten everything in A Study in Scarlet, minus the Mormon hate, I was pleasantly surprised at how much of the original story was actually incorporated into "A Study in Pink." The reinterpretation of the source material made me appreciate it more. The adaptation had streamlined the story into a more taught narrative, yet at the same time it helped me understand the original more. Plus, the little reversals are extra funny. Holmes pointing out "rache" as the German for revenge in the original story, while in the TV episode he smacks down Anderson for the deduction as simplistic. Though it was the cabbie as killer combined with the two pills, one that was deadly, that made me shiver. Oh Gatiss and Moffat, sometimes you really piss me off, and other times, man, you nail it. Also, thank you for not testing the pills on a dog and killing it. I think that is where Conan Doyle went a little too far.

Yet just because I enjoyed A Study in Scarlet more this time around does not mean I was blind to it's flaws. The main flaw is that the mystery is written in such a way that you as the reader can not solve it. Part of the fun of mysteries is seeing if you can follow the clues and the red herrings and come to the same deduction as the detective, and perhaps beat him or her to the punch. The way the story is set up Holmes figures it all out and arrests the culprit. Then there's the long and hateful flashback to America and the Mormons, in which Conan Doyle proves his ignorance, mainly about American geography, I can't speak to the Mormon part, and then everything is handed to us on a plate as a fait accompli. I don't like this kind of storytelling. On a re-read it isn't so bad because you already know who the killer is, but on a first read it just angers me. The god like pretension of an author to think that they can change storytelling convention to appear more intelligent by being the only ones who could solve this crime. Of course you're the only one who could solve it, you wrote it so the reader wouldn't know! And this is why I hate Josephine Tey. She is noted for her interesting and modern narrative structure, otherwise called bullshit by me. Her book The Man in the Queue was one of the worst books I've read, and guess what, you're lack of adhering to conventions wasn't original, here is Conan Doyle doing it forty-two years earlier!

What I still find interesting is that when I first read this book the youth of Holmes and Watson struck me. Over time you get this fixed idea of what they look like, the staid middle aged Victorian gentleman. But this isn't the case at all! Given the supposed date of Holmes's birth and the date of the events in this story, Sherlock would only be twenty-seven years old! I mean, I know you were viewed older sooner then, what with younger mortality rates, but still, twenty-seven is damn young! While I'm not going to bother looking up all the ages of the copious actors who have played Holmes over the years, one thing can be deduced readily, and that they are never as young as he is in his first adventure. While most cases can be put down to the fact that for a series you need an actor who can play Holmes at a variety of ages, so casting older helps. But still, I wonder if it's just psychological. That we, as the audience, wouldn't take such a young man seriously. That he would have the gravity that is expected of Holmes. I of course call foul, if just for my undying love of the Young Sherlock Holmes. But on the whole, Holmes is played as the audience expects him to be. I bet if you asked the random Sherlockian Holmes's age in the first adventure, they'd place him in his mid to late forties. And they would be oh so wrong.

A point of interest that brings about much contemplation to me is that this story, which contained a murder whose like was never seen prior, was serialized exactly one year prior, and published in book form the same year as the first Jack the Ripper killings, in particular the canonical five. In fact, Jack the Ripper is often fused with multiple genres, Sherlock Holmes being one of them. I wonder, did A Study in Scarlet inspire a man prone to killing to commit a crime the likes of which had never been seen? It's almost as if Conan Doyle was egging someone on to take up the challenge Holmes laid at the feet of his culprit. Or was Conan Doyle that in touch with the changing times that he knew this violence, these types of horrific acts of murder, were the future of crime and he caught the spirit of these times in his stories? Because both Jack the Ripper and Sherlock Holmes fascinate us to this day. Did one influence the other in any way or was it just the society of that time? Yes, I might be a bit of a ripperologist, but I had never really thought about the confluence of these two very famous Victorians. It is no wonder that people have been creating mashups... it's something to really get those little grey cells working, as another famous detective would say.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:01 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Pink, A Study in Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle, Benedict Cumberbatch, Jack the Ripper, John Watson, Josephine Tey, Mark Gatiss, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked, Steven Moffat, The Young Sherlock Holmes