Saved Archived Meta: Sherloki1854 (pt.6)

[221bcrow]

Even in “Scandal”, Holmes is gay

A Scandal in Bohemia

Holmes about Irene Adler: Oh, she has turned all the men’s heads down in that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the Serpentine-mews, to a man.

This is important: he has never seen her: he is only quoting somebody else. So please do not come with “the woman” here… Especially as her fiancee is described very flatteringly by Holmes after he has seen him – and twice:

Holmes about Godfrey Norton: He is dark, handsome, and dashing

Still about him: He was a remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached

Two important conclusions can be drawn: Holmes appreciates Mr Norton’s beauty, but not Irene Adler’s. And Holmes likes moustaches.

(More is coming soon…) 

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Holmes is queer in canon

The word “queer” already had – among others – the modern meaning of “gay” in the late 19^th century. It is used fairly regularly, but usually for things/events (along the lines of “what a queer case!”) and only about a dozen time for people. Out of these instances, five refer to Holmes (somehow). 

A Study in Scarlet, 1881

• “He is a little queer in his ideas […]” (Stamford)
• That’s how Holmes is introduced. Compared to this, Sherlock is tame. Mike does not say anything like this, and even Mrs Hudson and Angelo do not flat-out tell us anything (which is as frustrating as – I will stop here.)

The Musgrave Ritual, 1879 (plot; published in 1893)

• Holmes, in one of his queer humors […] (Watson)
• Holmes is shooting the wall. Watson is not amused. Most likely, Holmes is shooting the wall because he is waiting for Mrs Hudson to finally go to bed so he and Watson will not be disturbed being – queer.

The Reigate Squires, 1887

• He’s been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited.
• (I am just including this for the sake of completeness; the quote around it deserves a post on its own.)

The Valley of Fear, 1888

• "Well, I’m bound to say I’ve always found you had reason behind all your queer ways […]” (Inspector McDonald)
• Fine, here is might really mean “singular”. But the “all your queer ways” just sounds a tad like there are odd-queer ways in dealing with criminal investigations and queer-queer – other ways. (Or maybe I am simply deep in delusion.)

Number five refers to Mycroft.

The Greek Interpreter, 1888

• The Diogenes Club is the queerest club in London, and Mycroft one of the queerest men.
• Ok, but what does this have to do with Sherlock? Oh, this conversation just took place:
• "But how do you know that it is hereditary?”
• “Because my brother Mycroft possesses [this trait (in this case, the faculty of observation)] in a larger degree than I do.”

Meaning: both of them are queer.

Canon is so marvelous to read…

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heimishtheidealhusband

Daily reminder: Jeremy Brett.

thepineapplering

This is them getting married

sherloki1854

Let’s add some more text…

Holmes has literally no regard for the law when he thinks he is morally entitled to do something. Just for fun, here are the best quotes about his (and Watson’s) “criminal activity”.

 

Charles Augustus Milverton, 1885-1888?
You know, Watson, I don’t mind confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal
And Watson is not too bad either:
Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted in our dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes unrolling his case of instruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy of a surgeon who performs a delicate operation. I knew that the opening of safes was a particular hobby with him, and I understood the joy which it gave him to be confronted with this green and gold monster

The Bruce-Partington Plans, 1895
“It is fortunate for this community that I am not a criminal.”
“It is, indeed!” said I heartily.
“Suppose that I were Brooks or Woodhouse, or any of the fifty men who have good reason for taking my life, how long could I survive against my own pursuit?

The Retired Colourman, 1898
Burglary has always been an alternative profession had I cared to adopt it, and I have little doubt that I should have come to the front.

Lady Frances Carfax, ca 1900
“Why, you’re a common burglar.”
“So you might describe me,” said Holmes cheerfully. “My companion is also a dangerous ruffian. And together we are going through your house.”

So I really cannot imagine that the Labouchere Amendment would have in any way stopped either of them, just because it was the law…

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Watson’s marriage(s) - proof of Johnlock

What is the point of the marriages and their separation in the later books?

It is not important to the plot, if you assume that Watson speaks the truth when he states that point of the stories is to report Holmes’s investigations. (Of course, the romantic Watson wove in a love story, but let us ignore that for now.) 

But it is stressed again and again that Holmes and Watson do not see each other often in the later years or when they are not living together.

It’s a huge plot device.

So it must be important for something else.

People were not supposed to notice how married to each other they were…

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What Holmes and Watson say about each other’s looks. Compliments ahead.

The Retired Colourman - Holmes about Watson: With your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is your helper and accomplice

Here we go: Holmes compliments Watson on his looks.

 

The Read-Headed League – Watson about Holmes: All the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those of Holmes the sleuth-hound […]

Also: Watson once admires aquiline features. Guess who else has them?

The Man With The Twisted Lip – Watson about Holmes: In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline features.

These quotes does not need explaining.

 

Anybody still wants to tell me that they were never attracted to each other in the books?

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Holmes as an artist – a somewhat “decadent” profession

Art was not considered something “manly” (I still hope I am not offending anyone). We are deep into cliches now, but that is how it worked in the Victorian Era: “The Artist” was Oscar Wilde. A nice parallel.

 

• A Study in Scarlet, 1881
• Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction […] My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words, and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty.
• No need to comment on the second quote.

• The Valley of Fear, 1887
• [Holmes was] warmed by genuine admiration – the characteristic of the real artist […]

• The Copper Beeches, 1890
• To the man who loves art for its own sake […] - This could not sound more like Oscar Wilde if Watson consciously tried. 
• If I claim full justice for my art […]

• Thor Bridge, 1900
• I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion in depressed spirits, for, like all great artists, he was easily impressed by his surroundings.
• I have been sluggish in mind and wanting in that mixture of imagination and reality which is the basis of my art.

 

Holmes was also an actor and very theatrical:

Holmes usually refuses to tell anyone - even Watson - of his current endeavours to capture a criminal when he is near the solution, and it is one of the few “defects” in Holmes’ character Watson criticises in The Hound of the Baskervilles (1888), which makes his solutions even more dramatic.
Another feature that is linked with this are his acting skills. In A Scandal in Bohemia (1889), Watson remarks that The stage lost a fine actor […] when he became a specialist in crime. Acting was not exactly a profession known for its good reputation, especially not for a member of the gentry like Holmes. Connected to this is that he is constantly seen and sees himself as an artist, as I already showed above.

Moreover, he is an active musician. One of the first things he mentions when he and Watson are first introduced in A Study in Scarlet (1881) is that he plays the violin. But of course he does not only play it: Watson states that Holmes has a remarkable gift for improvisation in The Sign of Four (1888). Playing an instrument was still seen with indulgence, but composing was a different matter: it meant having the decadent spirit of the artist. Interestingly enough, another literary virtuoso of that time was Dorian Gray. Hello again, Oscar.

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How Holmes and Watson react to each other’s “deaths”. Angst ahead.

Of course Holmes (and thus Watson) has a dangerous job. That means that Holmes is often attacked and going to die – and Watson obviously does not go unscathed either. (Which might have something to do with the fact that Watson is the responsible one in their relationship and is always armed.) Let us see how they react to the other’s apparent death:

 

The Final Problem, 1891

It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which turned me cold and sick. He had not gone to Rosenlaui, then. He had remained on that three-foot path, with sheer wall on one side and sheer drop on the other, until his enemy had overtaken him. The young Swiss had gone too. He had probably been in the pay of Moriarty, and had left the two men together. And then what had happened? Who was to tell us what had happened then?

I stood for a minute or two to collect myself, for I was dazed with the horror of the thing. Then I began to think of Holmes’s own methods and to try to practise them in reading this tragedy. It was, alas, only too easy to do.  […]

I shouted; but only the same half-human cry of the fall was borne back to my ears.

 

The Illustrious Client

Their blow fell–or his blow rather, for never could I believe that the lady was privy to it. I think I could show you the very paving-stone upon which I stood when my eyes fell upon the placard, and a pang of horror passed through my very soul. It was between the Grand Hotel and Charing Cross Station, where a one-legged news-vender displayed his evening papers. The date was just two days after the last conversation. There, black upon yellow, was the terrible news-sheet:

MURDEROUS ATTACK UPON SHERLOCK HOLMES

I think I stood stunned for some moments. Then I have a confused recollection of snatching at a paper, of the remonstrance of the man, whom I had not paid, and, finally, of standing in the doorway of a chemist’s shop while I turned up the fateful paragraph.  […]

I need not say that my eyes had hardly glanced over the paragraph before I had sprung into a hansom and was on my way to Baker Street.

Watson was so horrified that he remembers every single detail of the scene – and Watson is supposed to be the one who “sees, but does not observe”. This is a show of how terrified he. Our Victorian gentleman then proceeds to behave in the most un-Victorian and un-gentelmanly was possible to get to Holmes as soon as possible. But that is not even important. That first paragraph is incredibly meaningful.

 

The Devil’s Foot, 1897

At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes’s face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror–the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine […]

I should just highlight the whole paragraph. In short: Holmes and Watson are going to die from a drug that acts upon your fears. Watson is going to die soon, and he knows it, but what brings him back and gives him strength is Holmes dying. He then finds the strength to save Holmes without any problem and the scene ends with the Hollywood-worthy romantic scene of them “lying side by side” in the “glorious sunshine”. Is that not exactly how every single scene where the main character realises that his love interest is not dead ends?

 

The Three Garridebs, 1902

In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes’s pistol came down on the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair.

“You’re not hurt, Watson? For God’s sake, say that you are not hurt!”

It was worth a wound–it was worth many wounds–to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain.

Just imagine Holmes smashing his gun on Killer Evans’s head, and turning around to see what happened to Watson even while he was fighting. Remember that Holmes did not know what exactly happened to Watson during this scene, and this is what prompts the “big reveal” (well, big for everyone who had not paid much attention – or any, actually, they are so painfully obvious): our “automaton” cries and invokes God, which is not something Holmes does (literally the only other time he does that is when he explains how he managed to escape at Reichenbach). He is devastated. And it is beautiful.

 

 

And afterwards: each other’s “resurrections”

Of course they are never actually dead. They know that the other would not survive it. I mean, Watson began seeing Holmes’s ghost (“you are not a ghost, anyway”)!

 

The Dying Detective, 1890

I nearly called out in my joy and my amazement.  

Remember here that Watson is hiding, there is a murderer in the room and Holmes was simply pretending to be ill.

 

The Empty House, 1894

When I turned again, Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a gray mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.

Watson was wounded on the battlefield, endured sickness and terrible conditions in hospital in a war zone and this is the only time he ever fainted? At least that is what this sounds like… Also, just the fact that he faints. ;)

 

The Three Garridebs, 1902

“You are right,” he cried with an immense sigh of relief. “It is quite superficial.” His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. “By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. […]”

The scene – again. I will repeat (for the umpteenth time) that Holmes is basically saying that he would kill Watson’s murderer in revenge – cheerfully and naturally.

Why are people still doubting their love? (Oh, right, platonic. Of course…) 

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Holmes and Watson and romantic walks

Holmes is said again and again not to be a romantic. We all know Watson is the romantic in this relationship. But Holmes manages to engineer long romantic walks both in the city and in the country, and when they are working as well as in their free time. Just a couple here:

 

The Yellow Face, early spring 1888 

One day in early spring he had so far relaxed as to go for a walk with me in the Park, where the first faint shoots of green were breaking out upon the elms, and the sticky spear-heads of the chestnuts were just beginning to burst into their five-fold leaves. For two hours we rambled about together, in silence for the most part, as befits two men who know each other intimately. It was nearly five before we were back in Baker Street once more.

 

Charles Augustus Milverton, 1885-1888? 

We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had returned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter’s evening.

Black Peter, 1895

Let us walk in these beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few hours to the birds and the flowers.

 

The Devil’s Foot, spring 1897

It was not until long after we were back in Poldhu Cottage that Holmes broke his complete and absorbed silence. He sat coiled in his armchair, his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blue swirl of his tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down, his forehead contracted, his eyes vacant and far away. Finally he laid down his pipe and sprang to his feet.

“It won’t do, Watson!” said he with a laugh. “Let us walk along the cliffs together and search for flint arrows. We are more likely to find them than clues to this problem. To let the brain work without sufficient material is like racing an engine. It racks itself to pieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience, Watson—all else will come.

“Now, let us calmly define our position, Watson,” he continued as we skirted the cliffs together.

 

And drives:

 

The Man With the Twisted Lip, 1889

“Where is it, then?”

“Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us.”

“But I am all in the dark.”

“Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump up here. All right, John; we shall not need you. Here’s half a crown. Look out for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her head. So long, then!” (Holmes sends the driver away to drive the dogcart himself.)

 

And holidays:

 

The Boscombe Valley Mystery, 1888

[T]he maid brought in a telegram. It was from Sherlock Holmes and ran in this way:

Have you a couple of days to spare? Have just been wired for from the west of England in connection with Boscombe Valley tragedy. Shall be glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. Leave Paddington by the 11:15.

 

The Final Problem, 1891

For a charming week we wandered up the Valley of the Rhone, and then, branching off at Leuk, we made our way over the Gemmi Pass, still deep in snow, and so, by way of Interlaken, to Meiringen. It was a lovely trip, the dainty green of the spring below, the virgin white of the winter above…

 

When exactly did they work and when were they enjoing the “air and scenery”??

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Watson rushes to Holmes’s bedside – at any time and wherever he is

And afterwards he seems quite happy to continue dropping everything and taking Holmes on holidays in the name of Holmes’s health. Right. But I already talked about that.

 

The Reigate Puzzle, 1887

On referring to my notes I see that it was upon the 14th of April that I received a telegram from Lyons which informed me that Holmes was lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his sick-room

Well, that was fast. And Mrs Watson did not protest? 

 

The Dying Detective, 1890

“He’s dying, Dr. Watson,” said [Mrs Hudson]. “For three days he has been sinking, and I doubt if he will last the day. He would not let me get a doctor. This morning when I saw his bones sticking out of his face and his great bright eyes looking at me I could stand no more of it. ‘With your leave or without it, Mr. Holmes, I am going for a doctor this very hour,’ said I. ‘Let it be Watson, then,’ said he. I wouldn’t waste an hour in coming to him, sir, or you may not see him alive.”

I was horrified for I had heard nothing of his illness. I need not say that I rushed for my coat and my hat […]

He was indeed a deplorable spectacle. In the dim light of a foggy November day the sick room was a gloomy spot, but it was that gaunt, wasted face staring at me from the bed which sent a chill to my heart. His eyes had the brightness of fever, there was a hectic flush upon either cheek, and dark crusts clung to his lips; the thin hands upon the coverlet twitched incessantly, his voice was croaking and spasmodic. He lay listlessly as I entered the room, but the sight of me brought a gleam of recognition to his eyes.

Watson is supposedly married and in practice at that time. Neither wife nor practice are mentioned again in this story. 

 

The Final Problem, 1891

“Then it makes it the easier for me to propose that you should come away with me for a week to the Continent.”

“Where?”

“Oh, anywhere. It’s all the same to me.”

There was something very strange in all this. It was not Holmes’s nature to take an aimless holiday, and something about his pale, worn face told me that his nerves were at their highest tension. He saw the question in my eyes, and, putting his finger-tips together and his elbows upon his knees, he explained the situation.

Watson is married, but his wife is visiting somebody (what a coincidence, really – again?). Holmes turns up, looking “pale, worn”, and Watson immediately agrees to go someplace unspecified. Uh.

 

The Devil’s Foot, 1897

It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes’s iron constitution showed some symptoms of giving way in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occasional indiscretions of his own. In March of that year Dr. Moore Agar, of Harley Street, whose dramatic introduction to Holmes I may someday recount, gave positive injunctions that the famous private agent lay aside all his cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown. The state of his health was not a matter in which he himself took the faintest interest, for his mental detachment was absolute, but he was induced at last, on the threat of being permanently disqualified from work, to give himself a complete change of scene and air. Thus it was that in the early spring of that year we found ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, at the further extremity of the Cornish peninsula.

This is just too sweet and I need not comment further… :)

 

And he does just run off without telling his wife or caring about her in the least. Which, yet again, raises the issue of the wife’s existence. I refuse to believe that Watson (”dear Watson”) would have been so callous. 

The only logical conclusion: Holmes is the one he is married to. 

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