The Dangling Prussian 2025: The Incorrigibles

 The big Friday night is nearly here.

A whole lot of folks are either in New York City as we speak, or headed there. A longer distance for some than others, more costly than many would like, but when they get to that city, at this time of year, the Sherlocking comes easy. It doesn't matter if you make the guest list of this private party or that. There are Sherlockians there looking to Sherlock, and you can pull up a chair in their midst make friends, see old friends . . . really, just easy once you get there. 

But we can't all get there. Simple fact.

Now, having a Friday night open is kind of nice. You can get pizza, watch a movie, have a drink with friends . . . or just chill. Friday nights are good for all kinds of stuff. Unless, of course, you're like Mary Jane, the one member of Watson's household whose first and middle names we know for a 100% fact. Mary Jane was incorrigible. The sort of person "not able to be corrected, improved, or reformed" by definition. And we definitely have incorrigible Sherlockians.

Not going to be in New York City on Friday night. Not going to any fancy dinner where they enforce Luddite practices of no electronic devices. But still as Sherlockian as hell. And still having an electronic device and prepared to use it.

Incorrigibles. Montague Street Incorrigibles, just to remind one that there was more than one street Sherlock Holmes lived on. And on this Friday night, January17th, at six PM Eastern US time, the Montague Street Incorrigibles will gather again this year, to gossip (yes, we're talking about you), to indulge (BYOB, BYOF, BYOC*), and to let whatever happens happen for a virtual pub night at the Dangling Prussian, known hangout of the incorrigible Sherlockian since 1991. (Check the Minnesota archives, if you doubt.)

Oh, for that first hour, we'll chat. Some of the usual Zoomers will probably dominate the conversation. The second hour might get a little more serious, with a bit of toasting and stories of days gone by. That third hour, come eight PM Eastern, thing might get mildly formal as we swear in the new members with our formal oath of office, open to all who are there. Might watch a short film. Definitely going to try out "Powerpoint karaoke" for anyone brave enough to improv a Sherlockian talk based on ten random slides they've never seen before. And perhaps some other bits thrown together at the last. This is not a serious function!

And as we near the end of the evening, we'll see what our spies in New York have to report. We always have spies. It's that kind of place.

So this is your invitation. And here is your registration link . . .

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZwof-qgqjsoH9AItYBhp8Rkm4j5x5_s1vpT

Don't get your hopes set too high. We're incorrigible, don't you know. And this night of the year is our night to declare it.

________________________________________________

*Crew. The "C" stands for "Crew."

The Noobs and the Older Hobbyists, a Meme

 So this popped up on the socials today . . .

It didn't specify which hobby, but I know at least one person out there associated it with our very own Sherlockiana. As an older hobbyist who has occasionally been an asshole myself, I have to say, yes, there is some truth in that. Probably moreso in fandoms with more consistent content flows -- I mean nobody hates Star Wars so much as a Star Wars fan. And the thing about Sherlockiana as well, is that I have always theorized we have more baby fans in their sixties than any other fandom. People come here after retirement, when they're returning to the things of their youth. Which does make it look like the hobby is consistently aging out.

But the truth of that meme, as far as I'm seeing it, is that so many of our older fans look at themselves as more connected to Sherlockians of the 1930s and 1940s than the Sherlockians of the 2010s, when ... had they the chance to hang out with those smelly old gentlemen of that bygone era, might not have gotten on as well as they imagine they would have. (Don't tell me they weren't smelly. I lived in the 1960s. People were smellier then, and wasn't the hippies. So much stale, clinging cigarette smoke, above all the rest.)

And here's the other thing. Your personal Sherlockiana may be dying. Mine has had to be reincarnated several times. I mean, the pastiches of the 1970s will only carry one so far. And Without A Clue is only funny so long. BBC Sherlock was like an adrenalin injection. Sherlock & Co. has been a steady infusion of glucose. The bones of one's fandom may stick around, but the body must regenerate to stay healthy. Some of us like staying in our comfort zone of the old, comfy, and familiar, 'tis true. But not all, and especially those who grew up in a different era of Holmes.

Just as we can't expect new fans from the Rathbone movies any more, there's probably an expiration date on Granada and Jeremy Brett. So it's good to pay attention to what's bonding folks to Sherlock Holmes now, what's going to inspire them to look at the source material, and what will bring them back in thirty, forty, or even fifty years when they're retiring, slowing down a bit, and ready to read those sixty Victorian tales they always meant to get to because they loved CBS's Elementary so much when they were young. (Okay, maybe Moriarty the Patriot. Sorry, I'm occasionally an asshole. I warned you.)

Yes, the hobby is constantly dying and being reborn, just as the generations pass. And you might not like everything the kids are up to, just like grandparents aren't fond of everything little Rickster is doing. But ya gotta love that somehow, even with a fresh new face, the line goes on.

And we must trust that it will, even if it doesn't look exactly like it used to. The house has new owners eventually, and they get to paint and decorate as they wish. But it's still a pretty cool house.

Or House. I kinda miss that guy. But here comes Morris Chestnut . . .

Reformed Watsonian

 Since the new year is always a moment to contemplate change, sometimes it's easier to look at how we have changed over the years instead of how we hope to change in the future. So let's step back to January of 1991. Instead of this blog, I was writing a monthly column for our local Sherlockian society's newsletter, Plugs & Dottles. (The Hansoms of John Clayton version -- it's a newsletter name others have used too.) And what did I write that January?

"Out, Damned Watson!" -- an essay that proposed eliminating Dr. Watson from future Sherlock Holmes adaptations. I know, right? What the heck!

It begins with the words, "One of the nicer points of Sherlockian scholarship is that when things get complicated, you can always blame Dr. Watson." And then it proceeds to complain about all the Watson problems -- chronology, wound, Doyle's name on the cover of the books, and then starts to go even further. Watson somehow caused acid rain and international terrorism? I was not in a good place in 1991, I suspect.

The editorial gets into how Granada added Watson to their adaptation of "The Musgrave Ritual," a case he had nothing to do with, and that seems to spark an opposite proposal: Take Watson out of the adaptations and just focus on Holmes's detectivework. Watson was there as a narrator was needed in written form, but for movies and TV? 

(Quick side note on the podcast Sherlock & Co.'s latest case: Sidelining Watson for "The Adventure of the Three Gables" and making Marianna Ametxazurra the person who accompanies Holmes for most of the adventure. So it is possible to do an enjoyable show without Watson . . .)

My 1991 proposal of removing Watson claimed that the new adaptations would "move at a quicker pace without having to wait for Watson, thus allowing them to keep up with the fast-paced adventure films that would be their competition." (1991 me had not seen a certain Robert Downey Jr. film yet.) "New blood will be drawn into the Holmes cult, and these new Sherlockians won't have to worry whether Watson was a woman or Jack the Ripper. They won't have to worry about Watson at all."

Apparently, 1991 me had a moment where the idea of amputating Dr. Watson from the pair might make the world a better place. Fast forward to 2025, and I'm beginning my seventh season as the host of a podcast called "The Watsonian Weekly," having gotten there during a stint as editor of The Watsonian, the journal of the John H. Watson Society. So I guess that idea didn't stick. 

Had the internet existed in 1991, I suspect I'd have been a bit of a Sherlockian troll. But, thirty-four years later, I'm a much nicer fellow. Although I do always like that BBC Sherlock line from Holmes, "Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them." I'll try to be kind to Watson in 2025, as I have, apparently, evolved since 1991. 

But you know how New Year's resolutions go . . . .

Sherlockian Classifiers

 As a fan of Sherlock Holmes who interacts with other fans of Sherlock Holmes over decades, I've alway felt that unnecessary urge to somehow find order and patterns in our legion of co-enthusiasts. The human mind likes to categorize things, and Sherlockiana is an ever-changing mass of humanity that sure looks like it can be categorized -- much like the Sherlockian canon looks like it can be put in date order. So one occasionally tries.

The very first set of categories that I ever considered breaking Sherlockiana into was local and national, back when international mingling was more rare. Eventually, it seemed like local, regional, national, and international were a better geographic breakdown. Of course, there are arguments to be had there, as some regions sure seem national due to a heavier populace of fans, and what the heck is the internet? The John H. Watson Society often feels like a local club that extends over a chunk of the globe. The Barque Lone Star is larger, with a more regional, even national feel, but again crossing so many geographic boundaries that it's hard to pin down. 

The Baker Street Irregulars, centered in New York City every January, always felt national, prides itself on being a bit international, yet can't help but be a bit regional by the simple fact that those who can take a train into the city can be there easier than those who fly. And with the recent announcement of a Midwest BSI Canonical Conclave of Scion Societies -- definitely sounding regional -- that some folks outside of the middle of the U.S. don't want to miss . . . well, it just shows that the lines we draw are just never that solid.

And then we get into types of Sherlockians/Holmesians, which is an even more complex business. Most of us are not limited to being one type of Sherlockian, but mixy-matchy combos of particular Sherlockian types.

The Organizers. At one point, someone called them "sparking plugs," those folks who start and run scion societies. But some event planners don't tie themselves down with a standing herd to corral like a specific club, and fit into this bunch just the same.

The Scholarly. Historians, literary analysts, footnote fans, and those who like to say "Conan Doyle" more often than "Dr. Watson." Doing the serious stuff.

The Professionals. Sure, next to no one is making 100% of their income from Sherlock Holmes (even Conan Doyle). But some have more of a vested interest in the man than the rest of us. People outside our hobbyist sphere associate them with Sherlock Holmes.

The Party People. Here for the social. Friends are the prime collectable and events to get to see those friends are key. "Two Sherlockians and a bottle," as the old saying goes, but these folks can dispense with the bottle.

The Collectors. Can't stop acquiring the Sherlock stuff, whether its just books or other bits that tickle the Sherlock fancy.

The Creators. Yeah, mostly writers of various breeds, but artists, crafters, and even editors and event creators can fit here. Creation is creation.

Is that enough categories? I don't know. You'd still have to take that list and rank a given Sherlockian on a 10 point scale in each of those categories to come close to capturing even a bit of who we are. And do you know what that yields, with six categories and ten possible rankings in each?

A million possible different kinds of Sherlockians. A million.

Classifying people is silly, whether its horoscopes of corporate HR "colors" schemes. Yet these are the tools we have to try to figure ourselves out.

The Dangling Prussian 2025 -- Professor Presbury's Powerpoint Punditry!

 January is fast upon us, and that particular Friday evening in January when Sherlockians celebrate the great detective's birth -- January 17th this year! -- is nigh upon us as well. And for those who aren't attending one dinner of another in New York City 'pon that night, there is always a Zoom option: The Dangling Prussian virtual pub night.

Over the last few years we've see a lot of odds and ends to get us through the six hours of remote Sherlockian fellowship. We've had toasts, we've had short films, some new Holmes-inspired music, and even a live murder mystery featuring Holmes and Watson on a brand new investigation. Other than the annual membership ritual inducting new members of the Montague Street Incorrigibles (the off-brand Baker Street Irregulars), it's mostly a night of hanging out and random talk, but we do try to have some little bit of something organized . . . well, sort of.

In the ongoing spirit of the Dangling Prussian, its impromptu nature, and general chaos, this year our featured entertainment will be a slate of speakers who don't know what they're talking about. And you could be one of them!

Professor Presbury's Powerpoint Punditry is what we're calling it, and Professor Presbury, who called his stand-up career quits after the first Prussian night, will be running the slide show for our guest speakers. And if you know the Professor's monkey-shines, that means trouble. Ever hear of something called "Powerpoint Karaoke" or "Battledecks?" Well, the basic premise is this: A brave presenter will take the stage to give a talk based on ten slides they have never seen before. In this case, of course, they will be Sherlock Holmes based slides, following a title card. The presenter has to do their best to improvise a talk on the spot as the slides appear, just as if they knew what they are doing.

We're betting that Sherlockians (and Holmesians) know their Sherlock enough to make this work. And if they can't? Well, we're a friendly enough crowd at the Dangling Prussian.

More info about the evening to come, but if you think you're going to want to see this or try this on Friday, January 17th, around 7 or 8 o'clock Central time, you might want to go ahead and sign up! Here's the registration link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZwof-qgqjsoH9AItYBhp8Rkm4j5x5_s1vpT

Hope to see you there!

Happily Ever After? Well, Maybe, Maybe Not?

 People do enjoy joking about how dull Sherlockian chronology must be. Sooooo boring!

But what nobody realizes is the wild, often scandalous revelations that chronology's second layer brings to the fore. For example, here's a bit from "The Literary Agent's Ten Percent" segment from last week's Watsonian Weekly.

Holmes and Watson's last recorded case from the Baker Street days is "The Creeping Man," which a chronologist can date as starting on Sunday, September 6, 1903. Sometime after that, Sherlock Holmes must have retired to Sussex and left London. In October of 1903, The Strand Magazine publishes "The Adventure of the Empty House," announcing to his fans that Sherlock Holmes is still alive and living at 221B, so he had every reason to get out of town and head for Sussex ASAP. Then, on December 17, 1903, Watson's literary agent goes to see Madame Tussaud's, the big tourist attraction in the neighborhood of 221B Baker Street. 

Now, Conan Doyle knew how popular Holmes was at that point. He probably also knew enough about America to know his fellow writer Mark Twain had seen Tom Sawyer's cave from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer making money as a tourist attraction since 1886. So if the famous Sherlock Holmes's rooms were both vacant and in the neighborhood of another prominent London tourist attraction, might Watson's literary agent have thought of stopping in to see Mrs. Hudson and work out some sort of deal.

Of course, what he should have remembered was that Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft Holmes had previously had a deal for keeping the Baker Street rooms intact and unvisited while Sherlock was not in residence, so there's one reason that wouldn't happen.

But let's look at another example.

Chronology tells us that in late June 1902, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson find themselves in the apartment of Mr. Nathan Garrideb confronting a certain Killer Evans. Watson gets shot in the leg. Holmes gets very worried Watson is hurt -- powers of observation plainly not working well enough to assess the bullet's passing through Watson's leg. Of course he's hurt, Sherlock!

But Watson's internal reaction, "It was worth a wound -- it was worth many wounds -- to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask." This line is purest sugar to those who see Holmes and Watson as lovers, equating it with the moment in a romantic comedy where someone finally professes their love after a long "will they, won't they." It's that moment when someone in the audience is definitely chanting "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" The happy ending.

But, as with all the Canon, it's Watson's perception of the moment, however you want to translate that text's emotions. And a Sherlockian chronologist will want to give you another date to ponder now. Back to "The Adventure of the Creeping Man" in September of 1903, a year later.

"The relations between us in those later days were peculiar . . . His remarks could hardly be said to be made to me -- many of them would have been as appropriately addressed to his bedstead . . . If I irritated him by a certain methodical slowness in my mentality . . . such was my humble role in our alliance."

Yes,  Watson isn't feeling real great about things and he's not living at Baker Street. It that moment in September of 1902 was the happy movie ending some take it to be, that happy didn't last. Watson deserted Holmes for a wife in January of 1903, only six months after he thought he saw how much Holmes loved him. (Again, a date the chronologists would give us from "Blanched Soldier.")

Such a soap opera there to be explored, and all because Sherlockian chronology brings a chain of events to light. Boring, you say? Well, if you just stop at the dates. But if you look at what was going on behind  those dates, whoa, mama! So much more to explore.

If A Million Monkeys Write Sherlock Holmes Stories . . .

 If there is one field of endeavor that I don't worry about AI poking its stupid robot head into, I think it's the world of Sherlock Holmes pastiche.

Well, let me correct that . . . I do worry that someone is going to waste valuable electricity, processing time, server usage, all that stuff to make an AI do something that we already have a cheaper resource creating a constant supply of. 

Remember celebrating the freeing of Sherlock Holmes into the public domain? Remember going "Now ANYONE can write a Sherlock Holmes story!"? What we didn't consider then was that not just anyone, but everyone would decide to write a Sherlock Holmes story.

What's that you say? You haven't written a Sherlock Holmes story yet? Let me ask you a question: Have you retired from whatever you did in the mainstay of life? No? Wait for it. You'll get there.

And everybody gets one. I mean, ya gotta try it.

Show your most brutally honest friend. Get someone to really beat it up. Send it to someone crazy enough to be collecting stories for some new volume called Yet Another Casebook of Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Everybody gets one. 

And, if you're really into it, if you really feel the need and you've survived critiques of your first story, or your friends find your work entertaining, keep going. But here's the thing . . .

Sherlockian fandom is a community that some of us live in. We're not a market for selling late-in-life attempts at authorship by copying existing IP. We are, for the most part, a welcoming community, especially for minor celebrities. But if the first time we see someone, they're trying to sell us a book? And that's the only time we see said person.

And we have plenty of pastiches. We don't need salesmen knocking on our community door trying to sell us another one and then heading down the road to the next fandom house trying to sell that group on their next thing. Sure, some kindly soul is gonna let said salesman in our house, invite them to dinner maybe, but we're not running into the streets and throwing a parade for something we're already swimming in.

Okay, rant over, but while we're on pastiches here's one more thought: Every pastiche is an adaptation, if you think about it. Even if an inhabitant of 2024 tries to match every Victorian thing they can think of, they're still not British Victorians . . . and heck, even British Victorians weren't Conan Doyle. So it's all adaptation of some sort. So why not go whole hog and show us something new? One of the greatest things that BBC Sherlock brought to us, at least to this burnt-out old fan, was the wild experimentation of fanfic putting Holmes and Watson in wildly different roles, environments, and bodies. Wonderful exploration of the characters, and it showed us things we might not have seen about our Baker Street friends.

Think about it.

Okay, post-rant thought over.