This weekend brought an interesting bit of Holmes-related cinema to theaters with Victor Frankenstein.
"But Dr, Frankenstein is around fifty years older than Holmes," one might protest. "And classic literature in its own right!"
Well, yes, but one can't see this latest movie without thinking that it owes much of its existence to the Guy Ritchie Sherlock Holmes starring Robert Downey Jr. The London of Victor Frankenstein is as beautifully detailed in steampunky elegance as that of Sherlock Holmes, for starters, and the connections don't end there.
James McAvoy's Frankenstein has a Sherlock's energy pushed past the limits of any social skills. Daniel Radcliffe's Igor is a Watson pushed past all normal limits of tolerance. And then there's some of those familiar names in the cast: Andrew Scott, Mark Gatiss, Louise Brealey . . . and director Paul McGuigan (which makes the casting a little less coincidental).
Andrew Scott's Detective Inspector Turpin is Frankenstein's nemesis: a moralistic detective who at first evokes Holmes and then shows more and more madness, eventually evolving into a more serious version of Kenneth Mars's Inspector Kemp from Young Frankenstein. An interesting flip of his Sherlock nemesis role, but I think I'd rather have seen him as the doctor himself.
"Chiswick Cross Hospital" plays a part in the movie, evoking the Charing Cross version in Canon and reality. Victor Frankenstein also carries his brother's watch, with "Henry Frankenstein" engraved on it, just as Watson had his own brother's "H.W." watch. Coincidence? (It should be noted, of course, that "Henry" was the name of the doctor in the 1931 Frankenstein.)
My movie-going Watson (or Holmes, depending upon one's point of view) and I both agreed that Victor Frankenstein was not a great movie. We couldn't decide if it was the basic bones of the original story than held it back as a film, or something in the execution. Good actors, good production values, ideas that seemed like they should have been a part of a good movie . . . and yet it was still missed a certain emotional connection. The movie seemed to want Victor and Igor to be buddies while still making Frankenstein a "driven-beyond-all-reason-or-nicety" genius, which is something a good Holmes and Watson have in spades. The "buddy cop" film trope would seem to work better in detection than monster-building, at least if this film is any evidence.
Still, an interesting trip to the theater for a Sherlockian, and I'd recommend it just for that.
The ongoing investigation of Sherlock Holmes, reported from the Peoria, Illinois outpost of Baker Street's dirtiest half a dozen.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Sexually segregated Sherlock books.
When one is up at four in the morning with a stuffy head, sitting in front of a Sherlockian bookshelf, wondering what to do with one's self, one can't help but wonder about minutiae. What might have passed for years as an unnoticed commonplace can suddenly jump out as a glaring curiosity of an earlier era's attitudes. Take these beauties for example:
The Boys' Sherlock Holmes from 1936 and Conan Doyle's Stories for Boys from 1938. To give those books a little historical perspective, consider this fact: women got the right to vote in America in 1920. And yet, sixteen years later, Howard Haycraft, the editor of The Boys' Sherlock Holmes, and his publisher, Harper & Brothers, didn't seem to see a point in marketing Holmes to girls.
In his worthwhile opening essay to the book ("worthwhile" because it really gives a great overview of Sherlockiana at that point in time), Haycraft writes:
"A number of individual Holmes stories are to be found in general anthologies, and from time to time there have been haphazard and short-lived 'collections' of a few unrelated tales. But until now there has never been a really adequate or comprehensive selective edition of the adventures.The present book is planned to fill this need. It is intended to give younger readers their own edition.suitably priced and illustrated . . . selected for their juvenile appeal as space will permit. While the stories have been chosen with boys and their interests in mind, it is hoped that some older readers, as well, may find the volume a convenient selection to have in reach."
Haycraft goes on to say that they've left out the Mormon segment of A Study in Scarlet, as well as some details in The Sign of the Four (probably the drugs) as a part of his choices for "boys and their interests" and his other story selections are as follows: "Speckled Band," "Noble Bachelor," "Beryl Coronet," "Copper Beeches," and "Blue Carbuncle." Apparently boys like snakes, cowgirls, jewels, and nannies.
What don't boys like, based on Adventures stories omitted? Adventuresses, gingers, fiancees, Australians, the Klan, beggars, and engineers.
Two years later, when publisher Cupples and Leon (plainly the "Peaches and Herb" of books) came out with Conan Doyle's Stories for Boys, their un-named arranger made some different choices. Boys now needed to know about the Mormons in Study, as well as the drugs at the end of The Sign of the Four. "A Case of Identity," "The Red-headed League," "A Scandal in Bohemia," and "Boscombe Valley" follow those two novels, in that curious order, like Cupples wanted to build the boys up for getting to the adventuress and the Australians.
Haycraft might call his later competitor "haphazard" as he did previous collections, but here's the thing about that set: it evolved. In 1960, that same collection was published in that same order by Platt and Munk (the "Flatt and Scruggs" of the book world) under the title Conan Doyle Stories. No gender checking at the cover.
The Boys' Sherlock Holmes from 1936 and Conan Doyle's Stories for Boys from 1938. To give those books a little historical perspective, consider this fact: women got the right to vote in America in 1920. And yet, sixteen years later, Howard Haycraft, the editor of The Boys' Sherlock Holmes, and his publisher, Harper & Brothers, didn't seem to see a point in marketing Holmes to girls.
In his worthwhile opening essay to the book ("worthwhile" because it really gives a great overview of Sherlockiana at that point in time), Haycraft writes:
"A number of individual Holmes stories are to be found in general anthologies, and from time to time there have been haphazard and short-lived 'collections' of a few unrelated tales. But until now there has never been a really adequate or comprehensive selective edition of the adventures.The present book is planned to fill this need. It is intended to give younger readers their own edition.suitably priced and illustrated . . . selected for their juvenile appeal as space will permit. While the stories have been chosen with boys and their interests in mind, it is hoped that some older readers, as well, may find the volume a convenient selection to have in reach."
Haycraft goes on to say that they've left out the Mormon segment of A Study in Scarlet, as well as some details in The Sign of the Four (probably the drugs) as a part of his choices for "boys and their interests" and his other story selections are as follows: "Speckled Band," "Noble Bachelor," "Beryl Coronet," "Copper Beeches," and "Blue Carbuncle." Apparently boys like snakes, cowgirls, jewels, and nannies.
What don't boys like, based on Adventures stories omitted? Adventuresses, gingers, fiancees, Australians, the Klan, beggars, and engineers.
Two years later, when publisher Cupples and Leon (plainly the "Peaches and Herb" of books) came out with Conan Doyle's Stories for Boys, their un-named arranger made some different choices. Boys now needed to know about the Mormons in Study, as well as the drugs at the end of The Sign of the Four. "A Case of Identity," "The Red-headed League," "A Scandal in Bohemia," and "Boscombe Valley" follow those two novels, in that curious order, like Cupples wanted to build the boys up for getting to the adventuress and the Australians.
Haycraft might call his later competitor "haphazard" as he did previous collections, but here's the thing about that set: it evolved. In 1960, that same collection was published in that same order by Platt and Munk (the "Flatt and Scruggs" of the book world) under the title Conan Doyle Stories. No gender checking at the cover.
Time and attitudes move forward, leaving behind their curiously biased artifacts, though now we do still have to wonder: If a female Howard Haycraft of 1936 had been selecting The Girls' Sherlock Holmes, what choices might she have made? Would Jabez Wilson still have been left out in the cold, with ginger discrimination still in place? Would Irene Adler have been chosen over Violet Hunter? And what of those folk who come from a land down under?
But I guess we can't blame too much on the male version of Haycraft, given a little ditty by Conan Doyle himself:
"I have wrought my simple plan
If I give one hour of joy
To the boy who's half a man
Or the man who's half a boy."
Doyle, of course, did not specify what the other half of that boy or that man was, so perhaps he was far more ahead of his time than The Boys' Sherlock Holmes.
Because the times, they do change. Eventually.
Friday, November 27, 2015
Content-avoidance skills.
If you spend any time on the internet at all, you might have just possibly heard of an upcoming Christmas special of BBC's Sherlock called "The Abominable Bride."
Just possibly.
And you might have consumed every morsel of set pics, promo interviews, teaser trailers, actual trailers, background articles, theater release announcements, gossip, and anything else you could of that ninety minute television show that's still over a month away.
A ninety minute television show that has already generated hundreds of hours of internet content before anyone has even seen it. And it's not even Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
Advertisers want fan eyes on their ads, and when a known fan base exists, as for BBC Sherlock, it almost seems like no factoid is too small to rate a headline. But if you just want to watch a thing when it comes out, without any pre-conceived notions or spoiled treats, you'd almost wish you could voluntarily choose to watch a stream of ads in a devil's deal to keep all that content out of your head.
Content avoidance is becoming a very necessary skill these days, as one can't depend on the world being all fan-safe and full of gentle **SPOILER ALERTS**. I suspect we may have even evolved past the spoiler alert, coming to accept a more "get in early or just don't read/listen to things
involving anything you want to consume later" mentality. A good friend or co-worker is now one who takes time to be aware of what you've seen and haven't seen, making casual conversation less of a minefield.
Perhaps the best tactic for those who want to remain truly spoiler-free is just to follow shows that no one cares that much about. If either a.) no one you know is watching something, or b.) it's not a show that really has much excitement going, without any big twists worth caring about, you can glide through life spoiler-free. Of course, then you're just stuck with mediocre (or worse) entertainments, but, hey, we all have to make choices.
Happily the Christmas season can be a very distracting time in any case, so ignoring all the pre-show content for BBC Sherlock's "Abominable Bride" should be made a lot easier. But we still have to be a little wary.
It's just the way of the world these days.
Just possibly.
And you might have consumed every morsel of set pics, promo interviews, teaser trailers, actual trailers, background articles, theater release announcements, gossip, and anything else you could of that ninety minute television show that's still over a month away.
A ninety minute television show that has already generated hundreds of hours of internet content before anyone has even seen it. And it's not even Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
Advertisers want fan eyes on their ads, and when a known fan base exists, as for BBC Sherlock, it almost seems like no factoid is too small to rate a headline. But if you just want to watch a thing when it comes out, without any pre-conceived notions or spoiled treats, you'd almost wish you could voluntarily choose to watch a stream of ads in a devil's deal to keep all that content out of your head.
Content avoidance is becoming a very necessary skill these days, as one can't depend on the world being all fan-safe and full of gentle **SPOILER ALERTS**. I suspect we may have even evolved past the spoiler alert, coming to accept a more "get in early or just don't read/listen to things
involving anything you want to consume later" mentality. A good friend or co-worker is now one who takes time to be aware of what you've seen and haven't seen, making casual conversation less of a minefield.
Perhaps the best tactic for those who want to remain truly spoiler-free is just to follow shows that no one cares that much about. If either a.) no one you know is watching something, or b.) it's not a show that really has much excitement going, without any big twists worth caring about, you can glide through life spoiler-free. Of course, then you're just stuck with mediocre (or worse) entertainments, but, hey, we all have to make choices.
Happily the Christmas season can be a very distracting time in any case, so ignoring all the pre-show content for BBC Sherlock's "Abominable Bride" should be made a lot easier. But we still have to be a little wary.
It's just the way of the world these days.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Uncollectable Collectables.
I have always been fascinated by Sherlockian artifacts that don't exist . . . at least in this universe.
The first that come to mind are the magazine that Watson mentions in A Study in Scarlet that contained Sherlock Holmes's uncredited article, "The Book of Life." Another, from the other end of his adventures would be that small blue book with the title Practical Handbook of Bee Culture imprinted upon its cover. Reproductions are attempted, but the real thing? Never gonna get it.
So I was delighted when I ran across this gem:
I had to add it to my mental collection. It's from an ad within a-comic-book-in-a-comic-book in Marvel's The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl number five from May of this year. And it features Squirrel Girl tracking "the Reverse Detective," who seems to be a very sinister version of Sherlock Holmes.
For those of you who need a current-events tie-in, Squirrel Girl is the new Netflix series character Jessica Jones's babysitter in her comic book incarnation. No Squirrel Girl in that series, of course. And no Sherlock Holmes either.
But somewhere out there in the ether, some wicked version of Sherlock is doing "criminality" . . . yeah, it's no "Book of Life." But you know how collecting goes, imaginary or otherwise.
The first that come to mind are the magazine that Watson mentions in A Study in Scarlet that contained Sherlock Holmes's uncredited article, "The Book of Life." Another, from the other end of his adventures would be that small blue book with the title Practical Handbook of Bee Culture imprinted upon its cover. Reproductions are attempted, but the real thing? Never gonna get it.
So I was delighted when I ran across this gem:
A comic book that doesn't exist.
I had to add it to my mental collection. It's from an ad within a-comic-book-in-a-comic-book in Marvel's The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl number five from May of this year. And it features Squirrel Girl tracking "the Reverse Detective," who seems to be a very sinister version of Sherlock Holmes.
For those of you who need a current-events tie-in, Squirrel Girl is the new Netflix series character Jessica Jones's babysitter in her comic book incarnation. No Squirrel Girl in that series, of course. And no Sherlock Holmes either.
But somewhere out there in the ether, some wicked version of Sherlock is doing "criminality" . . . yeah, it's no "Book of Life." But you know how collecting goes, imaginary or otherwise.
Monday, November 23, 2015
My Sherlock Holmes.
Sometimes, it's just beyond words.
I have an aging banana. Its name is Sherlock Holmes.
See, it says "Sherlock Holmes," right there.
But, it's my Sherlock Holmes. I actually own it. Or at least fifty percent of it . . . no pre-nuptial agreement, you know.
I will probably eat Sherlock Holmes in the next twenty-four hours, so as much the unique incarnation of Sherlock Holmes as my banana Sherlock is, he really isn't much of a collectible. Doesn't really do well in a story either. Seems a quite pointless Sherlock Holmes.
And yet, for now, he is a most special banana. How special?
Well, I took a picture of him and put it on the internet. And I only did it because Sherlock Holmes exists.
Sherlock Holmes, the banana, that is. And I am his biggest fan.
And why not?
Because sometimes, it's all just beyond words, isn't it? Beyond words.
I have an aging banana. Its name is Sherlock Holmes.
See, it says "Sherlock Holmes," right there.
But, it's my Sherlock Holmes. I actually own it. Or at least fifty percent of it . . . no pre-nuptial agreement, you know.
I will probably eat Sherlock Holmes in the next twenty-four hours, so as much the unique incarnation of Sherlock Holmes as my banana Sherlock is, he really isn't much of a collectible. Doesn't really do well in a story either. Seems a quite pointless Sherlock Holmes.
And yet, for now, he is a most special banana. How special?
Well, I took a picture of him and put it on the internet. And I only did it because Sherlock Holmes exists.
Sherlock Holmes, the banana, that is. And I am his biggest fan.
And why not?
Because sometimes, it's all just beyond words, isn't it? Beyond words.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
The Sherlock Holmes superfans.
When you think of the biggest Sherlock Holmes fan in the world, who do you think of?
"Superfans" are usually people we think of who go overboard in their home decor, their clothing, all the superficial accoutrements of displaying their love of a sports team or TV show, like the Chicago Bears or Star Trek. With Star Wars preparing for another resurgence, I expect we'll be seeing that sort of superfan all over the media push that's already begun.
And Sherlock Holmes has his share of that level of superfan. Those who convert one room of their house into a replica of 221B Baker Street. Those who costume and podcast and arrange events-within-events whenever fans gather.
The thing about Sherlock Holmes fandom that one finds a little different from many a fandom is that some of the biggest Sherlockian superfans take things to a whole 'nother level. Like the guy who got a very big hill renamed "Holmes peak." Or those folk who establish university archives centering on not only just Sherlock, but on a group of fans of Sherlock. Or bigger yet, those fans of Sherlock Holmes whose conflicting interests spawn a court battle that very nearly is argued in front of the Supreme Court.
How does one even wrap one's head around that level of fandom?
Every now and then I get reminded it's out there, when an article like this one from a local Santa Fe paper pops up.
Sherlockians just aren't the sort to sit in their basement wearing Sherlock t-shirts, surrounded by their memorabilia, and watching old videos . . . well, partly because we all know books don't do well in damp and keep our stuff out of basements where possible . . . but still. Something about Sherlock Holmes moves people to bigger things.
I'm not going to claim that Sherlockians have the exclusive claim to that level of superfandom. I'm sure one of the "Star" franchises is well on its way there, especially with "Jedi knight" listed as a religion on some nations' census surveys. Sherlockiana has been around a lot longer, so it's had a head start in building such fans, some of whom were Sherlock Holmes fans before Star Trek was even created, much less Star Wars. Those fandoms will get there, if they're not on the verge already.
And as they do, maybe we'll come up with a scale of measurement that can tell us who the biggest fan of a given mythic universe might be at any point in time. People magazine hardly does a "Sherlockiest person alive" issue every year.
But they're out there. Boy, are they ever.
"Superfans" are usually people we think of who go overboard in their home decor, their clothing, all the superficial accoutrements of displaying their love of a sports team or TV show, like the Chicago Bears or Star Trek. With Star Wars preparing for another resurgence, I expect we'll be seeing that sort of superfan all over the media push that's already begun.
And Sherlock Holmes has his share of that level of superfan. Those who convert one room of their house into a replica of 221B Baker Street. Those who costume and podcast and arrange events-within-events whenever fans gather.
The thing about Sherlock Holmes fandom that one finds a little different from many a fandom is that some of the biggest Sherlockian superfans take things to a whole 'nother level. Like the guy who got a very big hill renamed "Holmes peak." Or those folk who establish university archives centering on not only just Sherlock, but on a group of fans of Sherlock. Or bigger yet, those fans of Sherlock Holmes whose conflicting interests spawn a court battle that very nearly is argued in front of the Supreme Court.
How does one even wrap one's head around that level of fandom?
Every now and then I get reminded it's out there, when an article like this one from a local Santa Fe paper pops up.
Sherlockians just aren't the sort to sit in their basement wearing Sherlock t-shirts, surrounded by their memorabilia, and watching old videos . . . well, partly because we all know books don't do well in damp and keep our stuff out of basements where possible . . . but still. Something about Sherlock Holmes moves people to bigger things.
I'm not going to claim that Sherlockians have the exclusive claim to that level of superfandom. I'm sure one of the "Star" franchises is well on its way there, especially with "Jedi knight" listed as a religion on some nations' census surveys. Sherlockiana has been around a lot longer, so it's had a head start in building such fans, some of whom were Sherlock Holmes fans before Star Trek was even created, much less Star Wars. Those fandoms will get there, if they're not on the verge already.
And as they do, maybe we'll come up with a scale of measurement that can tell us who the biggest fan of a given mythic universe might be at any point in time. People magazine hardly does a "Sherlockiest person alive" issue every year.
But they're out there. Boy, are they ever.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Prehistoric Sherlock shipping.
Twitter has some lovely little gems some days:
Some people are just born romantics. Even among the fans of the master of coldy logical detection.
They may not have written entire Harlequin romance novels about their pairings back in the day -- the printed word was costly pre-internet. A writer had to use available venues, and novel-length production required a publisher's agreement that your words were worth print, even if you paid said publisher for that agreement.
But would Isaac George have been so invested in a Holmes/Hunter pairing that he would have traded his nine-page argument for Violet Hunter's romantic pursuit of Sherlock Holmes for a full-on epic tale that moved beyond the Canonical bounds, given the opportunity? Well, in 1949, perhaps not, given that the Sherlockian Canon itself probably still didn't feel fully explored -- plenty of places to go without leaving its pages over-much. The thought of Sherlock and Violet as mer-people swimming about the Atlantic was not yet a length they had to go to for entertainment.
Still, even within the bounds of safe, Canonical, heterosexuality, the shipping urge was there.
One might even make a case that shipping can be seen in William Gillette's famed request of Conan Doyle, "May I marry Holmes?" (Which, in itself smacks of Gillette/Holmes shipping.) Like the name "Violet," the name Alice appears multiple times early in the Canon, and the "Alice Faulkner" Gillette winds up using is not that far off in name from the eventual "Alice Fowler" of "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches." Too far a reach?
Everybody wants to work a romance into the career of Sherlock Holmes, even Dr. Watson, something Holmes accuses him of from the second published case.
"But the romance was there," Watson protests. Later, we even see the good doctor disappointed that Sherlock Holmes shows no romantic interest in Violet Hunter -- actually going so far as to write it out in the case itself: ". . . my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her . . ."
Watson was even the shippiest shipper -- he was really wanting Holmes and the actual person he had met to get together, not just his own head-canon version of Violet.
Poor Sherlock Holmes. All he wants to do is solve mysteries. And the one and only time he actually romances someone -- seemingly in service of his detective purposes, yes, but still . . . ROMANCE! -- he takes crap from Watson for doing it. We only want what we can't have, which is why you don't see tons of Sherlock/Agatha shipping out there. That one actually happened. Too easy, right? No, let us find a way to hook him up with Tonga, across Victorian gender, cultural, racial, and size barriers. Love is so much better when it has to overcome hurdle after hurdle. (Yeah, you didn't believe Tonga just fell into that river and disappeared forever, did you? SEE! Now, I'm doing it!)
Well, I guess it's better than us having to having Sherlock Holmes fight every single person in the Canon to the death. That would be a very unpleasant genre of fan fiction to see explode upon the world. (Though I think Marvel Comics has done that with one or two of its characters.) Sherlock Holmes, standing tattered, bloodied and alone, overlooking an emptied London . . . .
Better we're born romantics.
Some people are just born romantics. Even among the fans of the master of coldy logical detection.
They may not have written entire Harlequin romance novels about their pairings back in the day -- the printed word was costly pre-internet. A writer had to use available venues, and novel-length production required a publisher's agreement that your words were worth print, even if you paid said publisher for that agreement.
But would Isaac George have been so invested in a Holmes/Hunter pairing that he would have traded his nine-page argument for Violet Hunter's romantic pursuit of Sherlock Holmes for a full-on epic tale that moved beyond the Canonical bounds, given the opportunity? Well, in 1949, perhaps not, given that the Sherlockian Canon itself probably still didn't feel fully explored -- plenty of places to go without leaving its pages over-much. The thought of Sherlock and Violet as mer-people swimming about the Atlantic was not yet a length they had to go to for entertainment.
Still, even within the bounds of safe, Canonical, heterosexuality, the shipping urge was there.
One might even make a case that shipping can be seen in William Gillette's famed request of Conan Doyle, "May I marry Holmes?" (Which, in itself smacks of Gillette/Holmes shipping.) Like the name "Violet," the name Alice appears multiple times early in the Canon, and the "Alice Faulkner" Gillette winds up using is not that far off in name from the eventual "Alice Fowler" of "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches." Too far a reach?
Everybody wants to work a romance into the career of Sherlock Holmes, even Dr. Watson, something Holmes accuses him of from the second published case.
"But the romance was there," Watson protests. Later, we even see the good doctor disappointed that Sherlock Holmes shows no romantic interest in Violet Hunter -- actually going so far as to write it out in the case itself: ". . . my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her . . ."
Watson was even the shippiest shipper -- he was really wanting Holmes and the actual person he had met to get together, not just his own head-canon version of Violet.
Poor Sherlock Holmes. All he wants to do is solve mysteries. And the one and only time he actually romances someone -- seemingly in service of his detective purposes, yes, but still . . . ROMANCE! -- he takes crap from Watson for doing it. We only want what we can't have, which is why you don't see tons of Sherlock/Agatha shipping out there. That one actually happened. Too easy, right? No, let us find a way to hook him up with Tonga, across Victorian gender, cultural, racial, and size barriers. Love is so much better when it has to overcome hurdle after hurdle. (Yeah, you didn't believe Tonga just fell into that river and disappeared forever, did you? SEE! Now, I'm doing it!)
Well, I guess it's better than us having to having Sherlock Holmes fight every single person in the Canon to the death. That would be a very unpleasant genre of fan fiction to see explode upon the world. (Though I think Marvel Comics has done that with one or two of its characters.) Sherlock Holmes, standing tattered, bloodied and alone, overlooking an emptied London . . . .
Better we're born romantics.
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