It was amazing to see the parallel this week between the events on the American national stage and those occurring within Sherlock fandom. The more enthusiastic fans of presidential candidate Bernie Sanders actually booed their main man for not behaving as they wanted as his candidacy came to a close. And when Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss came out and plainly stated that there was no planned endgame of a Holmes/Watson romance on Sherlock? Well, there was no joy in Mudville, as the old poem goes.
They didn't disagree with any of the fanfic writings. They didn't try to shut down anybody's playground. They simply stated their intentions about what they were doing with their particular work of art. Because, unlike Conan Doyle, they're still with us and can actually tell us what they intended or what they were thinking when they wrote this bit or that.
From as early as I can remember in grade school English classes, I remember being annoyed at those who thought they could state unequivocally what was going on in a creator's mind when that writer or artist put something together. Humans are very complex creatures, and we do things for some very odd reasons sometimes, despite what someone outside our brain might see as a pattern to our behavior and, thus, (dramatic music) our true agenda. I've even had it pulled on me by a particular reader or two of this blog.
So, while one has to sympathize with those who wanted that Holmes/Watson happy ending so badly and are apparently going to be denied, I can also empathize with the creators. You would like to think people are actually listening to you and hearing what you're saying, rather than immediately running it through a mental translator and creating what's basically an alternate universe version of you to suit themselves.
Our greatest challenge on this planet is working and playing with other people and letting them be who they are along the way. Sure, sometimes we wish they'd coddle us and hold back those disagreeable parts of their personas to make our lives happier. But we have to respect their right to be who they are, too. It's a constant give-and-take on both sides, and too often we let our emotions over-ride keeping that balancing act fair to all. I mean they're our feelings, right? People should be considerate. But on a grand stage as big as Sherlock plays upon, not everybody is going to get the ending they want.
I love Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss and all that they've done for Sherlock Holmes. I also love the great mass of fan extrapolation that has been done from that work. (And I also hate Elementary, just to show I'm definitely not all hearts and flowers.) So much great stuff out there these days, and I really hope nobody is getting too hurt in their efforts to have some fun with it all. But like any sport, there are always those who will play a little too hard in their enthusiasm and wind up with an injury or two.
I know, I know . . . yes, but . . . .
That. I understand.
Imagining Conan Doyle, suddenly transported to this modern era, where . . . well, one can't even quite imagine. And so, mind boggled by trying to wrap it around another wrinkle of the modern Sherlockian world, I think I'll call it a night.
Better days ahead for us all, I hope.