My kind of Sherlockiana

Sherlockiana is such a far-ranging hobby that one constantly has opportunities to look into the distance and go, "Why aren't I doing that thing?" Sometimes the answer is obvious, like watching a certain Will Ferrell movie or spending a year working out a detailed system for putting dates to Watson's cases is to people who aren't me. But then there's the opposite, when you do a thing and go "YES! This is why I am in this hobby!!!"

I had one of those times Monday night, recording the latest episode of Sherlock Holmes Is Real, when Talon King, Dr. Janet Peters, Mrs. Horace Thimbleburger, and Shecky Spielberg went on for an hour about "The Case of the Night Train Riddle" which they seem to believe is actual documentary footage of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson solving a case. (It's the premise of the podcast later episodes, if you haven't bumped into it yet.) It'll be coming out later this week.

But if you type "Sherlock Holmes is real" into Google, the AI will immediately tell you, "No, Sherlock Holmes is not a real person, he is a fictional character created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." Because the AI does not know how to have fun, and is also kind of a jerk. It makes up its own pretend facts when it wants to, but doesn't seem to want to let others to play games or have a podcast whose name it disagrees with.

But, not being an AI myself, I do like to play silly games. Life is work. Sherlockiana is a nice escape from the chores of life and whether it's getting together with other Sherlockians or fiddling around with my own brand of Sherlockian scholarship, the most silly, the most absurd Sherlockian tangents have long been my favorite. It's what makes a Holmesian like Paul Thomas Miller such a treasure. 

We've come so far since Rex Stout simply gender-bending John Watson was the height of Sherlockian hilarity. So far! These days we have things like Mike McSwiggin finding the funny in Sherlockian chronology, of all things. The list of Sherlockians who have made me laugh is tempting to get into here, but we all have different folks who catch us with the right silliness at the right moment. It's been woven into our culture from the earliest days.

Ronald Knox, Christopher Morley . . . they were not taking this thing seriously at all. It took time and academia to push those borders. I get it -- some of my first Sherlockian writings were term papers where I had to be serious to get a grade. But that's not where the best stuff is for this little black duck. So here's to the fun bits! Hope yours are many and just the best.

We Come To This Place . . .

 I see Nicole Kidman a lot. Sometimes once a week. Sometimes more.

I'm referring, of course, to her monologue before every movie shown at the local AMC theater. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a link to it. Her monologue is like part of a church ritual that brings the faithful together for what is about to take place. Is she turning AMC audiences into a cult? Could very well be. But being in a certain other fandom cult, I know cults aren't always about sexual slavery and drinking poisoned Kool-Aid.

"We come to this place . . ." Nicole begins, eventually closing with ". . . stories feel perfect and powerful. Because here [dramatic pause] they are."

A lot of that speech applies to Sherlock Holmes as well as AMC Theaters. Not all stories, like all movies, are actually perfect or powerful. A whole lot of them suck. But even the bad catch some of the radiance of the good, elevating them at least to a level where they get noticed.

But lately, with Sherlock Holmes and this hobby we call Sherlockian, I've begun to ponder why we do come to this place. It's a large and diverse city-in-miscrocosm of a hobby, with neighborhoods that each have their own personality, posh venues, long-standing institutions, and back alleys that can make our Sherlockopolis look a bit different for each of its citizens. It may look like one single entity from a distance, but, oh, it is not even close to the simplicity of what any one view can take in.

And we all come to this place, this Sherlockopolis, for our own reasons. Community, connections, creative outlets, and, primarily, the chance to go somewhere outside our normal lives. And since it's a place of imagination, it can be whatever we need it to be . . . for us, for our own escape from the day-to-day. But there are other minds, with other imaginings here too. John Watson's everyman quality, spread across a world of people, makes him a secret legion of perceived John Watsons.

One of the best terms to come to any fandom in recent decades . . . and the Sherlockopolis is a fandom city, make no mistake about that . . . is "headcanon." Headcanon is the simple acknowledgement that we all have our own interpretation of the characters and stories that we share with the world. There are, of course, those who are sure their headcanon is actual Canon, whether due to innocence or narcissism, and they do like to interrupt a conversation to speak their truth on occasion. But its their truth, not always ours, and not what we came to this place for.

We come to this place for the things we share. The things we enjoy together. The things we want to learn together. Some of us may be like farmers, who enjoy living outside the city and growing ideas, writings, art, or presentations, but every now and then we have to come to town to share our produce, talk to the other farmers, and catch up on the news. Or take a little vacation there.

But our Sherlockopolis has no Nicole Kidman, framing our coming experience with a little monologue that just will not go away before every outing. We have to decide why we come to this place on our own.

And sometimes that bears thinking about.