I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere

Dear Mr. Gatiss

<h4 style="text-align: center;">
"attracted admirers who occasionally hung about" [BERY] </h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy1P1D71AllAB6WEkdzRgCg6t6eLoIYsKoKLYHggsnhlAQIsIkmFB-K7NRjip15tboWIvgRPItvMPog9SYDUUZ_JgSlWN5uxardEEfDbGmawQOjmlpAqeRuQZv7keYfHCGQzJ0zx_cNF_/s1600/Sherlock+-+Series+4+chess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy1P1D71AllAB6WEkdzRgCg6t6eLoIYsKoKLYHggsnhlAQIsIkmFB-K7NRjip15tboWIvgRPItvMPog9SYDUUZ_JgSlWN5uxardEEfDbGmawQOjmlpAqeRuQZv7keYfHCGQzJ0zx_cNF_/s640/Sherlock+-+Series+4+chess.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
[<b><i>Editor's Note:</i></b> this is the 12th is a <a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/search/label/Series%204#.WIHVH_krLb0" target="_blank">series of reviews</a> of Series 4 of <i>Sherlock</i>. Minor spoilers ahead.]<br />
<br />
In <a href="http://www.dailystar.co.uk/showbiz-tv/hot-tv/578507/Sherlock-BBC-complicated-Benedict-Cumberbactch-show-creator-Mark-Gatiss" target="_blank">a recent interview</a>, Mark Gatiss — co-creator of and actor in BBC One's <i>Sherlock</i> — took a dig worthy Mycroft Holmes (well, <i>his </i>version of Mycroft Holmes, at least) at the show's critics:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"People ask if it's good to challenge the audience. Of course it f***ing is...Go and read a children's book with hard pages if you don't want to be challenged. We’re making the show we want to make. We don't make it a certain way because fans are pressuring us."</blockquote>
I hear it being said with a sneer. I hope it's out of context.<br />
<br />
I know better.<br />
<br />
And for that reason, I have a letter for Mark Gatiss.<br />
<br />
<br />
Dear Mr. Gatiss,<br />
<br />
I admire your work.<br />
<br />
Many of us here do.<br />
<br />
All of us, anyway, have decisively made room for Sherlock Holmes and his adventures in our brain attics. So the implication <a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/search/label/Series%204#.WH90mhsrJPY" target="_blank">our near-universal condemnation of Series 4</a> is somehow due to a lack of understanding and appreciation for "challenging" art is, at the very least, tedious.<br />
<br />
You know there would be no <i>Sherlock</i> without its fans. You know there'd be no <i>Sherlock</i> without Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. And you know there'd be no <i>Sherlock</i> without ACD's formula:<br />
<ol>
<li>The tangle of impossible evidence.</li>
<li>The untangling.</li>
<li>The reveal.</li>
</ol>
<br />
The wonderful, sure arc you just derided. We bump along with Watson and Lestrade down the track — through the tunnel, 'round the bend, past the pirates — and we like it that way. We hang our deerstalker on the logic and sense of it all and the assurance that the cleverest of us will solve the mystery.<br />
<br />
Series 4 unfortunately did away with the gamut.<br />
<br />
Episode 1 served to write Mary out.<br />
<br />
Episode 2 felt a bit more familiar. (The delicious baddie. The bugged cane.)<br />
<br />
But Episode 3 completely got away from you. How did the chick from <i>The Ring</i> escape Alcatraz to pose as a flirt on a bus then as a tranquilizer-wielding shrink? Right right right. She's an evil genius I suppose I'm incapable of fathoming. Why the drone? How did John end up shackled in a well? And Redbeard was a kid? C'mon. Enough.<br />
<br />
If you and Mr. Moffat do write a fifth series, consider us for a Christmas treat: consider we deal with enough challenges outside the fandom that when we tune into you, <a href="http://www.standard.co.uk/news/uk/sherlocks-huge-ratings-confirm-its-status-as-one-of-uks-mostloved-shows-ahead-of-finale-a3440896.html" target="_blank">as we have in huge numbers</a>, we are the case in the chair. Craving reason in the unreasonable and, for me, cheekbones I could cut myself on.<br />
<br />
Looking forward,<br />
<br />
Jessica Levine<br />
<br />
--<br />
<br />

Dear Mr. Gatiss

"attracted admirers who occasionally hung about" [BERY] [ Editor's Note: this is the 12th is a series of reviews of Se...

+ Read more »

by Jessica Levine

The Dilemma of Interpretation, Pastiches, and Sherlock

<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<b>"thousands of other similar cases " [REDH] </b></h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNOEzIvE3bvLck7izzGB9NYUXE-ne9PbX3l0cm99XAIdQumaNC2gWIeR6WChvNSVPSG_tY0iFWLJaMMr4Hs0ZjWSwRvUX5l9BISEpmKl66q5GqhpsVdEXSirsXuMMvZzYNpLUuFtMbRKg/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNOEzIvE3bvLck7izzGB9NYUXE-ne9PbX3l0cm99XAIdQumaNC2gWIeR6WChvNSVPSG_tY0iFWLJaMMr4Hs0ZjWSwRvUX5l9BISEpmKl66q5GqhpsVdEXSirsXuMMvZzYNpLUuFtMbRKg/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
No one inhabiting the Sherlockian realm is unaware of the volcanic ire unleashed since the broadcast of <i>Sherlock</i> Series 4 “The Final Problem,” presumably the series' final episode.<br />
<br />
My goal is to remind my friends that the flowing lava will cool in time. In fact, many pastiches of the past were criticized or snubbed in their day, and now are generally regarded with intense affection.<br />
<br />
I've commented in other forums about the nature of pastiches and how we’ve come to regard them. The following is an updated version of an essay I offered in the early 2000s in the <a href="http://www.sherlockian.net/hounds/" target="_blank">Hounds-L listserv</a> -— I was known as “The Lurking Man” — with insertions pertinent to the <i>Sherlock</i> brouhaha, drawn from my comments in a recent Facebook thread.<br />
<br />
Let's admit at the onset that part of my soul is utterly mystified by the repeated references one comes across to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle having "conceived" the Canon. And yet another part of me understands the widespread delusion that, somehow, Dr. John H. Watson relinquished all control of his notes to Doyle and that the Literary Agent was in fact the Author.<br />
<br />
If we aren't reading chronicles related by Watson-as-Biographer, it goes a long way toward explaining why there are so many different Holmeses within the Canon itself. In fact, the premise helps us to understand why so many of the later "stories" actually appear to be pastiches flowing from the presumably mighty pen of Doyle-as-Author himself.<br />
<br />
Take, for example, the different Holmeses of <i>A Study in Scarlet </i>and<i> The Sign of Four</i>. In the first, Holmes is youthful, glib, friendly, chimerical, outgoing, arrogant, energetic, full of brightness and even fun. In the second, he is taking cocaine thrice a day, and when he is not occupied with the case he is moody, brooding and pessimistic. (I reiterated this point recently <span style="text-align: justify;">in an essay about</span> “The Speckled Band,” published in Christopher Redmond’s remarkable compilation <i><a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/2016/10/about-sixty-eliminates-improbable.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">About Sixty</a></i>.)<br />
<br />
We see glimpses of these two Holmeses throughout other stories, and we reconcile them by claiming that, at times, Holmes must have been manic depressive or simply dual-natured. But perhaps Doyle-as-Author was dual-natured himself and this tendency emerged in his writings, based on his imagination-of-the-moment.<br />
<br />
A third Holmes often appears, and is neither of these other Holmeses — not the chemist / code-breaker / paralegal / actor / amateur anthropologist. This Holmes is a creative force who searches for things outside of the realm of crime — a varied mind that encompasses the multiple lives of a scholar, art lover, book collector, historian, musician, traveler and author.<br />
<br />
This is a consistent, almost pointed characterization that emerges in many of these separate chronicles/stories. Each new aspect reflects on the same notion that here is a brilliant, wide-ranging mind that embodies the expansiveness of the Victorian era and the increasing opportunities becoming available to the rising middle class of English society.<br />
<br />
In addition to fattening a cheque-book, either:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Watson was well aware of what an astonishing human being Holmes was and sought to capture his character for the benefit and inspiration of others, while acknowledging his weaknesses and self-contradictions; or</li>
<li>Doyle was well aware of what a truly astonishing human being was capable of being, and sought to describe such a character for the benefit and inspiration of others, while recognizing that any human being would have to have drawbacks and inconsistencies.</li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />
In the characterization of these various Holmeses we find a curiously consistent thread — the flash of a scintillating genius, through a glimmer here and a sparkle there, all adding up to a collective blaze that illuminates the body of work we call the Canon, even if individual entries are pale and dull compared to the whole.<br />
<br />
When we read a <a href="http://www.sherlockian.net/pastiches/index.html" target="_blank">pastiche</a>, if we fail to note that spark, that glimmer, that slight jewel-shine that catches our eye and reminds us of that overall, highly personalized genius, then something is missing. Something is wrong. It doesn't ring true. The writer has failed to convince us that he is either Doyle-as-Author or Watson-as-Biographer. There's no subjective or objective reality on which we can suspend our disbelief.<br />
<br />
<h3>
"I fancy that this ally breaks fresh ground" [SIGN]</h3>
However, if the pastiche-wright shows us something new, something jewel-like, it awakens our own inner genius. We recognize Holmes (or some version of him) as the man we met before, and the Master walks among these pages once again. That's a rare event, and such a perfect fiction is hard to forge, but it's no less an accomplishment than what Doyle-as-Author might have set out to do when attempting himself to re-invent Holmes for the later stories. In fact, in some cases, the accomplishment probably is greater.<br />
<br />
For the purist, <i>The Seven Percent Solution</i> is a fabrication to be dismissed. But there's no doubt that <a href="http://ihose.co/ihose85" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Nicholas Meyer</a> re-awakened some very real conception of Holmes for many, many thousands of people who had forgotten (or never known) the delight of reading about this man of genius living in a time when genius could thrive. <i>This</i> Holmes looked like what <i>a</i> Holmes should look like. That's why Meyer's fiction ranks highly — very highly — when compared with, say, "The Veiled Lodger" or "The Mazarin Stone," both found among the Sacred Writings but neither conveying a well-realized sense of what a Holmes truly should resemble.<br />
<br />
Naturally, I hold a higher esteem for those works that I prize as having come from the pen of Watson-as-Biographer. I have enormous respect for all those that might even have come simply from the pen of Doyle-as-Author. However, if there exist new tales that provide a joy of sudden discovery, and convince me — however briefly — that another biographer has been located at last, so be it. A truly successful "Sherlock Holmes story" conveys to my judgment an appreciation of insightful genius, regardless of its source.<br />
<br />
Genius can and does thrive all around us, and isn't necessarily found only in the same old place, between the covers of only one set of 60 stories about this or that version of Holmes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
"on which I would willingly dwell" [FINA]</h3>
This is why I came to enjoy rather deeply the Holmes I saw in several episodes of <i>Sherlock</i>, despite the show's obvious modernizations and manipulations of the Canon. When I noted the scripts' quirks and liberties, I reminded myself that I — with many other Sherlockians — had come to honor pastiches such as <i>The Seven Percent Solution </i>and<i> Without a Clue</i>, and view Nigel Bruce's childishness and Basil Rathbone's high-flying coifs with fond respect, even relish. Like many others, I gave <i>Sherlock</i> the same break.<br />
<br />
After all, many of us cackle to see Holmes and Watson dumped into Loch Ness by a monster submarine, because Billy Wilder made it happen in <i>The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes</i>. Some of us even have come to see the made-for-television film <i>Case of Evil </i>as innovative and daring, despite its uncomfortable obsessions about sex and drugs. (Gasp!)<br />
<br />
By canonical standards, all these interpretations and crazy dramatizations are heretical and loony, but time has allowed us to see these creations as <i>appreciations</i> rather than assaults. That means we can admire — even adore — what was offered, and what continues to be offered.<br />
<br />
Remember, my friends: We came to terms with Jeremy Brett's unexpected, eccentric tics and outbursts, which were so deeply criticized when he first appeared on the scene. Brett, now regarded widely as the most canonical of all Sherlockian actors, initially was scorned by many fans who'd been married to the notion that Holmes was Rathbone.<br />
<br />
That perception changed with time — and with the realization that it was all just an interpretation, and that the Canon still stood firmly in place, just as it does today.<br />
<br />
<i>Sherlock</i> hasn't had the gift of time to separate us from our expectations and umbrage, but I suggest we all revisit these amazing programs in, say, 2037. Then we can pass the bottle and discuss amiably just how much fun all these shows have been, despite their ups and downs, heresies, looniness and flaws. We even may discover new ways to appreciate them — ways that only time can develop and reveal.<br />
<br />
Perhaps then we also may look around the room and see how many of us have come to Holmes through <i>Sherlock</i>, and recognize what an astonishing service has been achieved on behalf of the Sherlockian world.<br />
<br />
There are many true chronicles yet to be written and many dramatic interpretations yet to illuminate the screen. Let them come.<br />
<br />
[<b style="font-style: italic;">Editor's Note: </b><i>This is John C. Sherwood's first contribution to I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere. He is from Marshall, Michigan, and has been a professional Sherlock Holmes impersonator since 1987. He was Gasogene XVI of <a href="http://www.watsonstinbox.org/" target="_blank">Watson's Tin Box</a> of Ellicott City, Md., and a recent recipient of the Beggar's Cup from the Amateur Mendicant Society of Detroit.</i>]<br />
<b><br /></b>
--<br />
<b><br /></b>

The Dilemma of Interpretation, Pastiches, and Sherlock

"thousands of other similar cases " [REDH] No one inhabiting the Sherlockian realm is unaware of the volcanic ire unleashed ...

+ Read more »

by John C. Sherwood

The Final Problem — Balancing Intellect and Emotion

<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<o:p>"These are very deep waters" [SPEC] </o:p></h4>
<o:p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVykxx-bF3nln0lMw67EYWXcyoTkzmJU4SDSaBpu0Rhbg5XKTFDbBNk4OfrSExPDDxFH4gJYhWXxLAn_aW1luj1J9LuHJQ1G0Fv0cuoQ9pOcMOj-IHjiZjBwbvBxZqTVwvKhitIl3l9U/s1600/sherlock+s+4+deep+waters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVykxx-bF3nln0lMw67EYWXcyoTkzmJU4SDSaBpu0Rhbg5XKTFDbBNk4OfrSExPDDxFH4gJYhWXxLAn_aW1luj1J9LuHJQ1G0Fv0cuoQ9pOcMOj-IHjiZjBwbvBxZqTVwvKhitIl3l9U/s640/sherlock+s+4+deep+waters.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
[<b><i>Editor's Note:</i></b> this is the 11th in our <a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/search/label/Series%204#.WH4nefkrLb0" target="_blank">series of reviews</a> of <i>Sherlock</i> Series 4. And if we have to tell you that there are <b>spoilers below</b>, you really need to spend more time with us.]<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear readers, I may review books from time to time, but I am
not a media critic. The nuances of film, etc., slide right past me, unnoticed,
and I am remarkably unpicky. Basically, I want a good story and characters I
can care about. For the past six years, BBC's <i>Sherlock</i> has delivered that in big
heaping covered plattersful. Lest anyone think that I am completely uncritical
of Moffat and Gatiss’ creation, let me say that the first time I saw <i>Sherlock</i>,
I was unimpressed. I was a new Sherlockian, a zealous guardian of the Canon,
and when I happened onto the middle of “The Blind Banker” on PBS, I thought it
was really boring and possibly even stupid. Was Watson in love with that girl?
Sherlock Holmes doesn’t look like that. Dudes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>*Click</b><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Perhaps a year
later, I decided to try the show again, this time starting at the beginning. By
this time, I had read dozens of pastiches. I had begun to look at the Canon in
a historical context, and had become more acquainted with Sir Arthur’s personal
life than he would think proper. I could slide in and out of 1895 at will, and
this time, I was enchanted by the time Benedict Cumberbatch said “Afghanistan
or Iraq?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">And I stayed that
way. Friends, I was very loyal, very quickly. Did I love every single thing the
writers came up with?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course not. I
still think “The Blind Banker” is a little lame, but it has some wonderful lines.
I feel the same way about “The Hounds of Baskerville,” but as a Hoosier who has
actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">been </i>to Liberty, Indiana, I
can forgive the DEVI/HOUN fusion that deprived me of a giant, phosphorescent
hound (Plus, does anyone miss the whole icky “she’s my sister” bit? I thought not).
When Series 3 came along, however, I was bowled over, because this—this is what
I came for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<h3>
"it is a matter of history" [BRUC]</h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">For most of my life,
I have been enthralled, not by fiction, but by <i><b>history</b></i>. So many people, so like, so different, separated from us only by ticking seconds. We “learn” about them,
or at least we think we do. You, and I, and most of the Sherlockians we know
can cite birth and death and publication dates. We can list the important
events in Arthur Conan Doyle’s life; we have one diary, a roman à clef,
letters, and an autobiography. But if I think of my life, and you think of
yours, I think we might agree that the most important moments in both are not
those we can plot on a calendar. Sir Arthur remembered March 15<sup>th</sup> as
the day he met his second wife, Jean Leckie, but at what moment did he finally
give himself permission to love her? When did he know that his father could no
longer be his father? When did he begin to replace his actual son with the “spirit”
he “spoke” with? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, there was the
moment my daughter was born, and the moment I became a mother. There are the
things we do, and the things we are, and they are not necessarily one and the
same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">In the Canon, we read
quite a lot about the things Holmes and Watson do. They meet, they have
adventures, they solve crimes. Watson gets married twice. Holmes does the
occasional (legal!) drug and smokes a lot. There is excellent banter and fog. There
are puzzles and clever deductions, all in Conan Doyle’s pleasantly
stripped-down prose. For a lot of Sherlockians, I think, this is enough. We see
a man we admire (or with whom we identify), using science and logic to serve
the cause of Right. We see a friendship that never ends, mostly unencumbered by
jobs and spouses and family and even “death.” We know who the bad guys are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">For me, however (and
for a lot of people—I am not unique here), the best parts of the Canon are the ones
Conan Doyle occasionally let slip. “It must tend to some end.” “…there still
remains the cocaine bottle.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“For years
I had gradually weaned….” “It was worth a wound….”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Sir </span>Arthur was a romantic, passionate man in an
age of emotional repression. He gave us the things Holmes and Watson <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">did,</i> while the men they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i> remained largely hidden. I would argue
that, with a few exceptions (Jeremy Brett’s Holmes providing many of them) most
film adaptations pre-2009 have done the same, taking at face value Conan Doyle’s
view of his detective as “a calculating machine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<h3>
"a new element has been introduced" [SILV]</h3>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moffat and Gatiss have never pretended that their Sherlock
Holmes is a machine, no matter what John shouts at him in frustration. A
sociopath, “high-functioning” or otherwise?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 
</span>Please. Series 1 and 2 hint at this, somewhat canonically, but Series 3
decides to go deeper. How do you respond if you’re John Watson and your best
friend has just returned from the dead? What do you think, when you’re Sherlock
Holmes and your only friend punches you in the face when you gave up nearly
everything to save him and the family you’ve made for yourself?<br />
<br />
One of the
fascinating things about Cumberbatch’s Holmes is that a lot of people have been
able to identify with what may seem to be problematic aspects of his character.
For me, the portrayal of an introvert who is very sure he doesn’t fit in with “normal”
people, who wants to connect but overinvests and withdraws from friends in
turn, and who demands reassurance of their affection in subtle (or for
Sherlock, not so subtle) ways rang strikingly true. To see Sherlock gradually
begin to realize that he had friends who liked <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him</i>, and that, while their lives changed in ways his did not, he
remained important to them, was touching. He grew during that season, arguably
in ways that the canonical Holmes did not.<br />
<br />
Because of this, I could look past the silly
“knife in the belt” thing and the really uncomfortable “let’s play murder” bit
in “The Sign of Three” to see the real event. If, as they often do in weddings,
someone read <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Corinthians+13" target="_blank">1 Corinthians 13</a> for the Watsons, it was actually Sherlock, believing all
things and not self-seeking, and not Love, who kept them together in “His Last Vow,” again at
a<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> cost no one fully appreciates. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">In
fact, as we begin Season 4, John and Sherlock both seem to believe that
Sherlock has some sort of magical ability to keep everyone safe—which, of
course, he does not. The general takeaway from that episode is that Sherlock was humbled by the
realization that the deductions he used as bullets had unintentional ricochets, but I think the wider lesson is that no matter how clever we are, or how
much we love and are loved, we will all keep an appointment in Samara. Obviously this was most traumatic for John, and the fact that his
marriage was in a normal, post-baby rough patch before Mary’s sudden death didn’t
make it better. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">I know that many people were bothered by his beating Sherlock
in Episode 2, which is good, because frankly, that behavior is not okay. But at
the same time, I understood that even very good people, under particular sorts
of stress, can lose control. I’ve seen it happen. In the throes of new
emotional pain, people blame, they strike out, they anesthetize themselves with
all sorts of substances. None of this works, and it cannot continue. “It is
what it is” isn’t a platitude, or some sort of brush-off. It’s the
acknowledgement that some parts of life are horrible. They really, really are,
and they cannot be fixed. Sometimes, too, we do awful things that we cannot
ever take back. In each case, the only way to take away the power of either is not
to fight, and not to run: instead, only by looking at death and guilt straight
on can Sherlock and John start to clean up the emotional wreckage that damages
and separates them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Which brings us to
"The Final Problem."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">I don’t avoid spoilers,
so having read the first batch of reactions, I felt some trepidation as the
show began. After all, I was one of the people who didn’t quite get “The
Abominable Bride” the first time through, and despite everything I wrote above,
there <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i> bits of the season’s first
two episodes that I found underwhelming. I didn’t really buy that Mary, a new
mother, would sacrifice herself for Sherlock—however much I—er—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i>—loves him. I liked knowing that Mrs.
Hudson has a Secret Sports Car, but I felt that scene was a little silly—and I
certainly hope her funds come from an offshore account and not a side hustle. I
had also been excited each time Mofftiss announced that Magnussen and Culverton
Smith were Supremely Evil Villains—only to feel that they just didn’t have
enough time to develop either one. It was inevitable that the finale also had
its own hits and misses for me:</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That was a lot of convenient DVD, Mary.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Moriarty! I love you so much! Although the
ticking was annoying.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I’m going to assume that at least a few people
ended up dead because Eurus could not manipulate them.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">And speaking of Eurus—she was the villain I
expected in Magnussen and Culverton Smith. I hated her. I enjoyed hating her
and may have called her bad names out loud. I’m glad her own name is really hideous. Even
now, I want to pummel her into the ground. Well done, Mofftiss, well done.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the end, we learn, the
Holmes family <i>did</i> produce a true sociopath (or, perhaps more correctly defined as a <a href="http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2015/02/12/differences-between-a-psychopath-vs-sociopath/" target="_blank">psychopath</a>). Not Mycroft, the man who knows good
from evil, and believes he is serving the greatest version of the former, even
if his methods are dubious and indirect. Not Sherlock, who has, for
self-preservation, sublimated his emotions and modeled himself after his older
brother, becoming, essentially, a Mycroft who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">would </i>get his hands dirty when he believes it required.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
No, of course it’s Eurus, at once the embodiment
of (seemingly) pure intellect and the repository of very primitive, child-like and
self-centered emotions. Her brother didn’t play with her, so she murdered his
friend. She kills and damages and manipulates for her own gain while insisting
on seeing herself as a scared little girl on an out-of-control plane. It may
seem to some that Eurus undergoes some character changes during this
episode—development, healing, whatever. No. She doesn’t. She’s just
manipulating you, too. Her brothers, however—now that’s different.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw3G5LlhOw5JiyudDhw8yUkEsqv9NIKdsBBT0gQ7UTX8ramJ3NuySIHArbmKy-b6MrHW39Hfi8jgmG_7uJR7mZw7C5gjQM-diGU9CLh-UueSDBQwTqT07ObRPN0s-aa17f-3NjrYE4L2L/s1600/Sherlock+-+Series+4+Mycroft+Sherlock+portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw3G5LlhOw5JiyudDhw8yUkEsqv9NIKdsBBT0gQ7UTX8ramJ3NuySIHArbmKy-b6MrHW39Hfi8jgmG_7uJR7mZw7C5gjQM-diGU9CLh-UueSDBQwTqT07ObRPN0s-aa17f-3NjrYE4L2L/s400/Sherlock+-+Series+4+Mycroft+Sherlock+portrait.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<h3>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">"Mycroft Holmes struggled" [BRUC] </span></h3>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">My
best friends and I, all oldest children, agreed that the entire episode gave us
“eldest child feels.” Mycroft like many older siblings, is bossy, pretty sure
he knows best, and has an enormous sense of responsibility; for him, it extends
beyond his immediate family to the entire United Kingdom. He worries about
them. Constantly. And he’s made decisions for all of them, some of which he was
not really qualified to make. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">It wasn’t
okay to tell his younger brother that “caring is not an advantage.” It wasn’t
kinder to tell his parents their daughter had died. And it did not protect the
citizens of Britain, or the world at large, to give Eurus five unsupervised
minutes with Moriarty in order to have her predict terrorist plots. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">In episode
three, Mycroft is forced to see himself as he really is: someone who believes
the ends justifies the means—as long as they cannot be traced back to him; someone
who, for all of his intelligence, can’t predict the outcome of his actions; and
someone who, in trying to do the right thing, has, instead, hurt the people he
loves and serves. He is fully humbled, as he needed to be, and by the time
Sherlock is given the impossible choice, he has not only taken responsibility,
he is willing to pay the most loving price he can imagine. This was, to me, the
most powerful scene in the entire series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">So, if you’re making
a list: with Eurus, we have pure intellect. With Mycroft, we have intellect
tempered by ethics (of a sort) and responsibility. And then we have Sherlock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZge7uUaDLY0C_FNd7jyUGL1R7eSiczYIuq1sExXrk5abntUxtL9IZdCieywTD3N5Bmk-fTjXJPcwXsltVrSx2NQIuXqQy7t6tvVFsVVegyrUYzwyFQaOrfQSYubvRQUl4f8t0iSR79H5/s1600/Sherlock+-+Series+4.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZge7uUaDLY0C_FNd7jyUGL1R7eSiczYIuq1sExXrk5abntUxtL9IZdCieywTD3N5Bmk-fTjXJPcwXsltVrSx2NQIuXqQy7t6tvVFsVVegyrUYzwyFQaOrfQSYubvRQUl4f8t0iSR79H5/s400/Sherlock+-+Series+4.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
"with an evident effort he got a grip upon his own emotions" [VALL]</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">There is a lot of
talk about how life with John “humanizes” Sherlock. I’m not so sure that’s
true, as much as John’s friendship allows Sherlock to feel safe enough to be
human. When Eurus killed Victor, she taught her brother that love was
dangerous, and in his reactions to this, he ensured that it also became
unattainable. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Gradually, however, through his interactions with the people
Mycroft considers “goldfish,” he’s learned a different lesson. He no longer has
to take refuge in a sense of superiority, as his brother does. He knows he can
fall, spectacularly, and still be loved. He’s feeling brave enough to venture
out into some sort of arrangement with Irene. </span>And he loves Molly.<br />
<br />
You can see
it dawn on him when she is about to hang up during that crucial phone call.
Molly loves Sherlock in ways in which he does not love her, but she also loves
him in that deep, permanent way which puts another’s interest ahead of one’s
own. At first, Sherlock feels guilty for seeming to toy with her affections—notice
that he doesn’t just give her what he knows might work—but, as she’s about to
end the call, he realizes that yes, he does <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">love</i>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her.</i> This won’t be the death of an
elderly blind woman he will feel the weight of being unable to prevent. This
won’t be Mary’s willing sacrifice. This will be a loss he won’t be able to
bear, and so, when he says he loves her like he means it, he means it. Utterly.
Just as he loves John, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Greg</i>, Mrs.
Hudson, and his parents.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">And Eurus? I’ve
heard someone people say that Sherlock has forgiven her, but I don’t think it’s
quite that simple. I believe that Sherlock feels pity for her, but he also
knows exactly who he is dealing with. This is why he plays the violin with her, but doesn’t
speak, staying three feet away from the glass. The whole thing is sad. It’s incomprehensible.
Eurus used to be a little girl and perhaps she has diminished culpability. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But she is who she is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The last episode of
Series 4 was, to me, the perfect mix of what Sherlock <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does,</i> as well as who he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is.</i> </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Having, in effect, solved the puzzle of his own life, the 21<sup>st</sup>
century Holmes can be who he was </span>always meant to be: a quirky genius whose
intellect and emotions are tempered with compassion, humanity, and love. It is
this integration, and not the identity of “the other one,” or even Redbeard,
which is the true solution to the final problem.<br />
<br />
Sherlock Holmes finally is who
he is, and whom we love: the Great (and Good) Detective.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
--<br />
<br /></div>

The Final Problem — Balancing Intellect and Emotion

"These are very deep waters" [SPEC] [ Editor's Note: this is the 11th in our series of reviews of Sherlock Series...

+ Read more »

by Leah Guinn

Missing from The Final Problem: Emotional Commitment

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;">"Man ... has lost all enterprise and originality." [COPP]</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6RNdUSlnKR5F4oATuzmlG6Nv0pie5YLDrCkyaIYHnXGGGhXAoQDVWnXV_8WjbQmI3_JbYsRSestT_MeADVIPNmiSPSKN-zT5zMVRgceyw_7sQgs1MbxB9tzMMLU7UQUP5gYlo_CKGwzA_/s1600/Sherlock+-+Miss+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6RNdUSlnKR5F4oATuzmlG6Nv0pie5YLDrCkyaIYHnXGGGhXAoQDVWnXV_8WjbQmI3_JbYsRSestT_MeADVIPNmiSPSKN-zT5zMVRgceyw_7sQgs1MbxB9tzMMLU7UQUP5gYlo_CKGwzA_/s640/Sherlock+-+Miss+Me.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
[<b><i>Editor's Note:</i></b> this is the tenth in our <a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/search/label/Series%204#.WH4nefkrLb0" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">series of reviews</a> of <i>Sherlock</i> Series 4. Spoilers...yada yada yada...spoilers.]<div>
<br /><div>
When the very first episode of Sherlock aired, I was beside myself with excitement. It was awesome. The whole first season had me hooked. I told my friends well in advance I would not be available for anything when the second season was announced, and I devoured the third, though with perhaps less relish than the others. I have always been ready and willing to forgive the writers of Sherlock for a lot of flaws, primarily because the chemistry between the leads and the acting of everyone involved is superb.<br /><br />And now, at the end of season four, I find myself curiously neutral as to whether or not a season five happens. Though each of the previous episodes had their good moments, I was not what you could describe as a fan of either. Frankly, “The Lying Detective” just made me angry by the end (you can read that review/rant <a href="http://www.ihearofsherlock.com/2017/01/the-lying-detective-review-and-possibly.html#.WH2zEPkrLcs" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a>.) “The Final Problem,” by contrast, left me apathetic. I’m glad it worked out, in its way. I’m glad the boys are back in Baker Street of course, and it was a lovely little end montage that I wanted really hard to be satisfied with, but I was too numb by then to care much. Not even numb; numb indicates a sensation of not-feeling. This was just nothing.<br /><br />The episode started with such great promise. Mycroft Holmes watches noir films, enough to have memorized the dialogue. Sherlock scares the hell out of him just to make a point, and John has recovered from being shot with a tranquilizer (sure, I’ll buy it). The banter was back, and it was such a refreshing return to the atmosphere of previous seasons.<br /><br />Some people have complained about Sherlock becoming James Bond in the show, and while I think there’s recently been an overemphasis on action, this episode made me realize why sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t: It’s the dialogue. The massive CGI explosion of 221B didn't bother me at all, because of the banter before it. There were deductions, all three characters had a chance to make a contribution to the scene, it was funny and a touch tender, and you knew what was coming. It still fit in the atmosphere of the scene.<br /><br /><h3>
"the effect of the atmosphere" [DEVI]</h3>
Atmosphere is part of the problem with the rest of the episode. Eurus is psychopathic, but her puzzles provide no suspense (except the possibility of Mycroft dying), because it’s obvious that Sherlock and John are going to get out somehow. It’s made clear right away that there is no way to win her game. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The episode plays like it was made by someone who once saw a Hitchcock film and thought it wasn’t gritty enough. There's no dramatic pacing, just one room after another, watching characters suffer emotional turmoil. Molly Hooper is once again nothing but bait, a chance to make Sherlock feel really bad about himself. Lestrade shows up for… continuity? He doesn’t actually do anything, there’s no reason for him to be there in that last minute of the episode, he’s just a face we recognize. Mycroft actually has some good moments, becoming more human in this episode than ever, but even he gets shoved away at the end, trapped in a cell off-camera so Sherlock can have the anticlimactic climax to himself.<br /><br />The final problem was, ultimately, boring.<br /><br />Maybe it’s because Eurus seemed just an imitation Moriarty - all the psychosis, none of the charm. We’re supposed to feel sorry for her, the crazy girl left all alone with nobody to love her, her family frightened of her etc., but I just couldn’t. There was no room for me to care about the characters anymore. Sherlock and John went through hell already this season, Eurus was beating a dead horse trying to torture them. <br /><br />The revelations about Mycroft’s character are what kept my interest going. He locks away his sister, taking it upon himself to decide whether or not she is worth saving, because that’s his version of being kind. Kindness through overprotection and cruelty seems to be the only way he can interact with humans. He can order a hit on a subject in another country, but ask him to get his own hands dirty and he can’t do it. For all his talk of being logical, emotionless, and clever, he’s really just a softie willing to grant his psychotic sister the company of an equally psychotic criminal mastermind for five minutes unsupervised, because it will make her happy. The man’s an idiot, but an occasionally useful one, and one who is devoted to his family, in his own warped way. I enjoyed the performance, especially the scene where he prepares to die, and I was sorely disappointed to see him left offscreen for the ending.<br /><br />Sherlock ultimately decides to do what Mycroft couldn’t, and tries to save his sister. What should have been a touching and hopeful ending montage was subdued by the sheer lack of emotional commitment I had for the rest of the episode. I hope more episodes are made, I hope Rosie grows up to be precocious and a delightful terror, I hope Molly and Sherlock come to some sort of reconciliation, and I hope the Holmes family keep visiting Eurus, but most of all, I hope there are more adventures that don’t involve evil geniuses.<br /><br />“Miss me?” <br /><br />No, Jim, not really. After this season, I’d really like to see the boys of Baker Street go find a missing horse.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
--</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>