A trip to see Ms. Adler

As bullpup "Calder," reporting for The Watsonian Weekly podcast, I naturally find that reporting their competes with my usual blogging for choice subjects and time. This week, for example you'll find one report on the subject I'm about to write about that is spoken on said podcast, and another which follows here. Here, of course, you get the benefit of links and photos as available.

Saturday, the good Carter and I drove up to Geneseo, Illinois, as we'd heard that Irene Adler was going to be making an appearance in that unlikely-seeming place. No Sherlockian societies up there that I had heard of, but apparently a regular stop for a local historical performer named Laura F. Keyes. Laura had been contributing a lot of good thoughts to our monthly Sherlock Holmes Story Society in recent months, so it seemed high time we made a trip to see a performance. And it was Irene Adler, this time, after all.

A nice drive through the country, a stop for lunch at a beautifully historic bar and grill (Cerno's in Kewanee), a small detour to look at one of my boyhood homes and the former F.U. White Elementary School (including the tiny street a third-grade me was voted crossing guard for), and we wound up at the Geneseo Public Library at the perfect time to get good seats for the show.

The librarian who came out to introduce Irene Adler set the scene as Irene's Paris home in July of 1891, and having all that Adlock shipping that's been programmed into many an elder Sherlockian's brain, I immediately thought, "Sherlock didn't go visit her after Reichenbach, did he?" But as soon as Irene Adler came center stage, I learned it was something that made a lot more sense: July 1891 was when Irene first got to read "A Scandal in Bohemia" in The Strand Magazine. And she was none too pleased with it.

Not that Irene was actually angry about it. She knew the true facts of the matter and had plainly enjoyed her little game with Sherlock Holmes. Her fondness for both the King of Bohemia and Godfrey Norton added many a smile to her memories of what led up to the tale we know, and just being investigated by the great Sherlock Holmes was a point of pride.

To learn about how "A Scandal in Bohemia" went down from Irene's point of view was a most enjoyable, and very fresh, take on a tale we knew so well. More than a few points along the way were new to me, including some bits about her wedding legalities, and there were a couple delightful twists and turns, as one would expect from Irene Adler.

Seeing Canonical characters re-enacted might be something more common for our big city Sherlockian cousins, but seeing an actress take up such a role here in middle Illinois for a one-woman-show is a rare treat. Laura's usual characters are those of a more normal historical nature, such as Mary Todd Lincoln or Laura Ingalls Wilder, and you can read more about her website, laurafkeyes.com .

It was a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

When fandoms run the world

Something fascinating happened this week that I don't think most folks realized has a bit of a link to our Sherlockian world's potential.

There was . . . and I hope I don't lose you the minute you read these words . . . a couple of presidential debates this week. And one of the candidates up there on that stage had one word under their name, describing their current job: Author.

No past in politics. No past in leadership. Just an author with a fan following.

And that fan following gave that person all that they needed to meet the requirements to be included as a viable candidate for President of the United States. Because, as we've seen very recently, in a large field, an unlikely candidate with a fan following can shove their way into the mainstream.

A fan following. As much as the old curmudgeon contingent likes to harrumph about how inconsequential fans are, we're seeing something exactly the opposite in the real world. Thinking about this for a moment . . . if Benedict Cumberbatch or Neil Gaiman wasn't British-born and had a whim to get on a presidential debate stage, we could have put them there.

Not saying they'd be viable candidates. Not saying that would be the best idea in the world.

But it legitimately could have happened. That's the world we're living in now.

More than a decade ago, I had some fun with a "Sherlock Holmes for President" campaign at local and Sherlockian weekend gatherings. Pure silliness. But we're reaching a point where that kind of silliness starts to seem like it has potential to affect our real lives. Sherlock Holmes, were he able to walk onto a stage, could work his way up to running a country, because he has fans.

People have long compared sports team fandom to political party fandom, and maybe individual politicians have had fandoms since politics was a thing. But it seems like we're seeing something new here. Or maybe just something very old that we didn't realize the power of.

Fandoms! Who knew?

Spin up that ol' Rotary Coffin!

Walp, the latest big name actor to be cast as Sherlock Holmes has the bullseye on his forehead for the naysayers, and once again it's time to wave the Doyle's Rotary Coffin flag and sing a few verses of our movement's anthem, "No Holmes Barred!"

You didn't know that was an anthem one could sing? Give me a minute.

In any case, it's Henry Cavill, the latest cinema Superman, following in the footsteps of Roger Moore, James D'Arcy, Ben Syder, Rupert Everett, and others (Will Ferrell!) who were just too good-looking in the eyes of many to play Sherlock Holmes. (Oh, fuss all you want about how handsome Jeremy Brett was or the beauty of Benedict, but they were those sort of fellows that won you over to their visage -- had they been in the office cube next to you doing accounting, you wouldn't have gave them a second thought, I'd wager.) But now that I've blasphemed in the parentheses, let's move on.

Are we surprised that a former Superman is going to play Sherlock in the upcoming Enola Holmes movie?

Well, we've had an Iron Man Sherlock and a Dr. Strange Sherlock, so our next one pretty much had to be a superhero. So why not have him be the superhero and just get it over with! And while Sherlockians of the sixties easily considered the headcanon of Holmes as a Vulcan, why couldn't he just have been from Krypton? DC Comics has famously done an "Elseworlds" tale where baby Kale-El's rocket landed in Russia and Superman was raised Soviet, so why couldn't that rocketship have landed in Victorian Sussex, England and seen the Superbaby raised by country squires?  (And why hasn't anyone written that fic yet, if they haven't?)  It would explain a whole lot of fireplace poker bending and wanting to fly across London with Watson!

Henry Cavill's upcoming part as Sherlock Holmes is just one more adventure in alternate Sherlocks for the members of Doyle's Rotary Coffin to enjoy. Hollywood hasn't nearly gotten a Sherlock Holmes unlikely enough to fully test our mettle yet, and I say, "Bring it on, Hollywood! We can take it! We're the Sherlockians of 2019! We cut our teeth on Robert Downey Jr.!"

Doyle's Rotary Coffin spins again. And I do love that beautiful, speed-born hum.

Shipping Peterick

One of the very noticeable differences between the way fans relate to BBC Sherlock and and the way they relate to Conan Doyle's original body of work, and that's in the area of shipping. Rare pairs from Sherlock abound. Rare pairs from ACD? Not so much.

And yet, tonight, as our local discussion group discussed "Black Peter," an unlikely couple practically came leaping off the pages at me, and one of those moments of "Why didn't I see that before?" occurred.

"I found out where he was through a sailor man that had met him in London, and down I went to squeeze him."

Awww, such a cute reason for wanting to see someone, isn't it?  Makes you just want to take a trip to squeeze somebody you haven't seen for a while, doesn't it? But it gets better.

Our hero goes down to Sussex to meet this fellow his hasn't seen in years, and they have a nice evening of drinks together. The object of his attentions, we are told, "was ready to give me what would make me free of the sea for life." Think about that phrase for a moment. That's not a dollar amount. That's a lifetime commitment. That's something special.

Now, let's get a little personal. Let's get a little "adult" for a moment.

The next night they're together, someone gets . . . well, let's just say it . . . penetrated.

"Heavens! What a yell he gave," we are told, "and his face gets between me and my sleep!"

Does that not sound like a man in love?

There's something going on behind "The Adventure of Black Peter" that's more than just what we see on the surface. Following the securities and the odd non-reason Sherlock Holmes wants to run off to Norway at the story's end in this account alone give it many a questions. So would it be so unusual to suggest that two men who met in that loneliest of environments, at sea, with that "meet cute" opportunity of the same initials, might not have grown close?

Peter Carey and Patrick Cairns aren't just a rare pair that one might wish could have been together. They are two people who actually were together. How together? Well, there does seem to have been a certain passion there. Eventually crimes of passion, maybe, but passion.

So I'm shipping Peterick now. I mean, just look at them.

The most romantic Paget illustration in the Canon.

Yeah, I think shipping Peterick is going to be part of my headcanon from now on.

Elementary, Season Seven, Episode Six: The name not said.

Odin Reichenbach is in the house, and the whole "previously" segment for this week is much of his scene from last week, a scene which continues for the start of this week's episode.

Here come the spoilers!

Odin Reichenbach is using his user data from Odker to predict future crime. And then making sure someone, not of any official capacity, stops those crimes in any way necessary. He's been doing it for a while, and he wants Sherlock and Joan on his team. He says he's been using a hammer, and he wants to use a scalpel. How Sherlock and Joan would actually work as a scalpel on potential criminals is a little unclear, but they just don't like him.

This makes Reichbach a sort of "reverse Moriarty," if you think about it. Moriarty planned crimes to help them occur so Scotland Yard never knows they exist. Reichenbach reverse-enginners potential criminal plans to stop them before anyone knows they exist. And Sherlock and Joan don't like it.

But, of course, as this is Elementary, Marcus Bell has a case for Holmes and Watson to solve before they can get back to dealing things they don't like.

Joan goes down the Marcus Bell path, and we learn that she can find the porn on your computer faster than anyone.

Sherlock sticks with the Reichenbach business and visits his NSA contact.

Joan and Marcus, however, interview a kink-porn producer. Good old Elementary!

Joan walks in on Sherlock wearing a goofy audio isolation helmet -- her walk-ins on Sherlock doing something off-kilter are the counterpart to Sherlock waking Joan up in weird ways. The show definitely has its comfy tropes.

Case with exotic details, more exotic details, more exotic details . . . Odin Reichenbach!!!

Sherlock has found the flaw in Odin Reichenbach's crime-predicting data-mining scheme, and find that Reichenbach is having innocents killed along with potential criminals: A bug in the master plan. But Sherlock says he and Joan want to join Reichenbach's scheme, if they get to make sure any potential criminal is actually going to do the horrible deed Reichenbach thinks that criminal is going to do. This is like the prequel to Minority Report, if you think about it.

HIPAA laws . . . oh, I do dislike when they bring HIPAA laws into my entertainments. They're not exotic or fun at all. And speaking of no fun, hey, where's Captain Dwyer this episode? Is Gregson still in the hospital? Is Clyde still in London? Odin Reichenbach needs to use his Odker data to predict when characters will come back to Elementary!

It's 9:51, this pregnant woman coming to the interrogation room must be the killer! She dated the heir to the wrestler-and-movie-star Bautista or something. Anyway, Joan Watson and Marcus Bell solve the case, which means Sherlock must be going to talk to Odin to cliff-hang the show.

Oh, no, it's Sherlock revealing the NSA guy is in Odin's pocket. He has a file of all Sherlock's friends and goes "Oh, wait, there's someone missing . . ." and for a moment, I think he's actually going to say "Jamie Moriarty."  But it's just Joan, and the dude is threatening Sherlock's friends.

And, ah, here's Odin Reichenbach, with the quote of the closing scenes: "I can handle Sherlock Holmes."  As much as I hate to use this phrase: Yeah, no.

They have to bring Moriarty back somehow before this is done. Let her get plastic surgery and be a new actress. But ol' Odin may be named Reichenbach, and he's just not the Reichenbach star we want.

Next week at the half hour mark, the final season of Elementary will be half done. On we go.

Two metal Holmes

Sometimes, you just get to sit and look at the things that fill your Sherlock spot.

Any gathering of Sherlock Holmes objects tends to represent a journey, as once your love of the detective and the doctor becomes an active and known pastime, the pair start coming at you from out of the woodwork. And, as a result, just like the cursed objects in Ed and Lorraine Warren's locked trophy room, there is a magic and a story behind every item. (Yes, I'm referring to the characters from the Annabelle movies. And I actually attended a lecture they gave in Peoria in the 1980s, so, like Sherlock Holmes, they do have a certain reality outside the movies.)

Wow, that's a lot of weird build-up just to talk about these two rather unique items.

Each of these was a gift from one of my brothers. 

The Sherlock is a neat piece from one's art-welding period, the Hound of the Baskervilles a special favor one had a friend with access to a computer-guided metal-cutting machine. There's a three and a half foot tall version of that hound that I'm dying to find a way to put on the peak of a roof like a reindeer for some Halloween.

I don't know what sort of image(s) my brother used to concoct his Sherlock Holmes, but it's a lovely little piece in that it's not like anything else. The Hound, however, has very specific origins.

When St. Louis Sherlockian societies were teaming up for an event called "Weekend at Baskerville Hall," a logo was needed and I fussed with a piece of panther artwork and turned a cat into a dog. The image appeared on tote bags, programs, and the podium, thanks to an ad agency friend who was creating some marvelous bits for us back then. (His sixty story "Wheel of Sherlock" was something I wish I had talked him into letting me hang onto -- it was a beautiful thing where spinning the sixty stories would bring one up in Basil Rathbone's magnifying glass, and would impressively grace any Sherlockian game show, as it did back in the day, even now. But I digress.

Which, I guess, is where I started this ramble, from just looking at my shelves a little too long. It's been quite a journey with friend Sherlock, with, hopefully a lot of goodness left to come.

Toward a larger Sherlockian faith

"No Holmes barred," states the motto of Doyle's Rotary Coffin. "All Sherlock Holmes is good Sherlock Holmes," say the Baker Street Babes. It's almost like there's a movement within Sherlockiana these days, foist upon us by our over-abundance of major media Sherlocks. So many Sherlocks well all know, so many Sherlocks for each of us to choose as our favorite. If our common bonds of Sherlockiana were to stay intact, acceptance of different screen Sherlocks was bound to develop.

Musing during mowing tonight, as I tend to do, I couldn't help but see a parallel to Universalism and the path that particular religious outlook. Universalism, if you've never run across it, is the idea that everybody goes to Heaven. Everybody. And once that thought entered the denomination, it was followed by the acceptance of other religions as just as valid faiths as well. If everybody went to Heaven, you could be a Buddhist, a Muslim, a Wiccan, or even an atheist, and that was okay.

So now that we're starting to accept other Sherlocks as valid Sherlockian choices, perhaps there's room to accept our other choices as Sherlockians as well.

More than one Sherlockian who's been around a bit has remarked that Sherlockiana lot a little fun when things became "important" at some point. The word "scholarship" said with tongue in cheek began to be occasionally replaced by a more serious pronunciation. Enough time past that Conan Doyle went from celebrity to historical figure, and attention to him went from paparazzi press to academic professionals.And as that transition slowly took place, the word "pastiche" took on uglier and uglier tones. And then came pastiche done for the sheer joy of it, not passing through publishing houses or editors, but just made available for reading to anyone who might find pleasure in it. And a few folks started to get uppity about fan fiction.

Is an essay accompanying a manuscript reproduction more important than a two-hundred-and-twenty-one chapter novel of a Sherlock Holmes in a world with three genders? Both are giving pleasure to someone. Both have a proud author behind each, happy to put their work out there. And important?

Let's be serious here: Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character. The only importance in anything to do with him is how much he means to each of us, in whatever way he brings us joy. Whether it's as a reason to explore history's fascinating little corners or to explore the relationship between two human beings who are so, so different. Both have value. Both have use.

Importance, value, significance. There are a lot of paths to finding objects that you could use those words to define using Sherlock Holmes as a tool. There are a lot of paths to finding things within ourselves that you could use those words to define using Sherlock Holmes as a tool.

Yes, I said Sherlock Holmes is a tool. Don't let your love of him turn you into one. We all have our moments, but there's no reason to commit to it as a lifestyle choice. Because, like the Universalists, I think we'd all like to believe that every Sherlockian can get into that Heaven we call 221B Baker Street, no matter who they are, no matter how they enjoy spending their time with Holmes.

All Sherlockiana is good Sherlockiana, I think. Even those hollow chocolate Easter bunnies, created by someone in the candy business whose only outlet for their love was holiday candy. Somebody should learn that person's story someday. I'd really like to hear it.