from the Baker Street premises
Ah. In other news, I'm reading The Complete Sherlock Holmes at the moment. Mainly cos it's the only book in my Aunt's house that remotely interests me --- I'm not ready for Christos Tsolkias' The Slap yet and I'm too repulsed by what I've been told about Shobha De's novels even though my mum did actually know her when we were in India --- and it's technically mine anyway from university days, a book she insisted on keeping cos she wanted it for herself. Now I'm rather grateful she felt that way cos man, it's fascinating to read these stories as an adult rather than a blithering teenager completely mystified by the language and the logic.
Now I am so totally impressed at how concise each story is, how they seem to read like single scene acts even though almost ninety-eight per cent of them (so far) aren't. And I've finally met Moriarty and, in one brief story, he scared the bejesus out of me and I actually got quite upset before diving right into the next collection where Holmes is magically resurrected. I do love the slyness of Doyle, how he pokes fun at his own creation, and how Watson is so subtly sarcastic that you could almost miss it. The humour is nowhere as rich as, say, Heyer, but it's so beautifully compassionate that omigod I can't help but love Doyle in a way I've never really considered before. I always looked at Holmes, not Doyle, and even then I'm fairly certain I didn't understand Holmes. I just wanted the mystery and the solution.
Now, oh man, all the weirdness of Holmes is kinda mindboggling. He's so misogynist at times and yet he's always the gentleman. He's such a narcissistic supercilious bitch and yet he has moments of utterly adorable ruefulness. And oh yeah, Watson totally humanises him.
I read a comment on Visual Bookshelf that said these are the stories that taught us as children how to reason out things and develop our logic. That's such an awesome idea. I hope it's true, at least for me. *lol* As it is, the mysteries that were so baffling to me as a teenager now seem clever but not impenetrable. And you do get so trained by Holmes' unpicking that by the time the solution came out in The Yellow Face, I was like "D'uhhhhhhh ...!" and then felt heartily ashamed of myself. Because that was one of the few cases where he was wrong. Oh man, how clever and sweet is that of Doyle. I wonder if he made it deliberately obvious so the reader could for once feel cleverer than Holmes. I bet he did.
And aha! Finally I know where that title came from!
"Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?"
"To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."
"The dog did nothing in the night-time."
"That was the curious incident," remarked Sherlock Holmes.
--- Silver Blaze.
And the thing is I remembered the story quite clearly so now I wonder whether that title always pinged me because it seemed vaguely familiar in the very very depths of my memory. Oof. It's actually got me quite curious to read the book now, just to see how it may or may not connect to these stories. Sweet.
I still love The Adventure Of The Speckled Band the best. Now I realise it's cos it's so deliciously Goffic and really quite gruesome and frightening. Also there's the whole India context. I do kinda get a thrill out of all the Indian mentions in these stories. Sure, sometimes the mention of savagery and traumatic conditions gets up my nose a bit but so far nothing's really made me choke with rage. If anything, I totally got a kick out of seeing the word 'shikari' and suddenly knowing that's the Hindi word for 'hunter'. Which Doyle never actually translates it in the text but I could have missed that.
There's such a wonderful Englishness about all the emotion and the manners, and this hilariously enamoured fascination with Americans that made me think "Doyle, that's totally you, isn't it?" I mean, he has Holmes practically witter about how wonderful Americans are and how they really shouldn't be ostracised by English society which pretty much had me laughing uproariously in my head. Doyle, you dork.
I'm rather looking forward to Moriarty re-appearing. I'm almost certain he does, and I hope this time it's for the length of a novel where we really get to see him and Holmes tussle it out, intellectually of course, rather than the brief snippet we got in The Final Problem. Oh it's going to be awesome to read Michael Chabon's The Final Solution after I finish this, whenever that is.
I'm only about halfway through the Return collection so plenty more to go, not to mention the novella-length The Hound Of The Baskervilles. Man, I wish I didn't already know the trick. *pouts and kicks*
And holy fuck, the drugs. That it's in the very second novella, The Sign Of Four, and in the very first paragraph that we see Holmes inject himself with cocaine. Gah. Seven per cent or whatever, I was still equal parts horror and delight. And truly, all these emotional and addictive characteristics combined, I have never realised just how much House is based on Holmes. Zomg. So awesome!
Mind you, the newest discussion on Dear Author has totally got me yearning for all my Heyers. To think it was only this time last year that I was discovering her. *sigh* God, I want to be immersed in all that language and the delicious humour and all those lovely descriptions and the twists and turns of emotion. Just the multifaceted ecstasy that is Heyer.
No matter. If I can't have Heyer, at least I have Holmes. And do not mention the movie to me or I may be forced to type out the physical description of Holmes direct from the yellowed curling page. Who're you calling a purist?! *lol*
Oh, I'm hungry. Ah, I have chocolate. Good o.
Now I am so totally impressed at how concise each story is, how they seem to read like single scene acts even though almost ninety-eight per cent of them (so far) aren't. And I've finally met Moriarty and, in one brief story, he scared the bejesus out of me and I actually got quite upset before diving right into the next collection where Holmes is magically resurrected. I do love the slyness of Doyle, how he pokes fun at his own creation, and how Watson is so subtly sarcastic that you could almost miss it. The humour is nowhere as rich as, say, Heyer, but it's so beautifully compassionate that omigod I can't help but love Doyle in a way I've never really considered before. I always looked at Holmes, not Doyle, and even then I'm fairly certain I didn't understand Holmes. I just wanted the mystery and the solution.
Now, oh man, all the weirdness of Holmes is kinda mindboggling. He's so misogynist at times and yet he's always the gentleman. He's such a narcissistic supercilious bitch and yet he has moments of utterly adorable ruefulness. And oh yeah, Watson totally humanises him.
I read a comment on Visual Bookshelf that said these are the stories that taught us as children how to reason out things and develop our logic. That's such an awesome idea. I hope it's true, at least for me. *lol* As it is, the mysteries that were so baffling to me as a teenager now seem clever but not impenetrable. And you do get so trained by Holmes' unpicking that by the time the solution came out in The Yellow Face, I was like "D'uhhhhhhh ...!" and then felt heartily ashamed of myself. Because that was one of the few cases where he was wrong. Oh man, how clever and sweet is that of Doyle. I wonder if he made it deliberately obvious so the reader could for once feel cleverer than Holmes. I bet he did.
And aha! Finally I know where that title came from!
"Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?"
"To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."
"The dog did nothing in the night-time."
"That was the curious incident," remarked Sherlock Holmes.
--- Silver Blaze.
And the thing is I remembered the story quite clearly so now I wonder whether that title always pinged me because it seemed vaguely familiar in the very very depths of my memory. Oof. It's actually got me quite curious to read the book now, just to see how it may or may not connect to these stories. Sweet.
I still love The Adventure Of The Speckled Band the best. Now I realise it's cos it's so deliciously Goffic and really quite gruesome and frightening. Also there's the whole India context. I do kinda get a thrill out of all the Indian mentions in these stories. Sure, sometimes the mention of savagery and traumatic conditions gets up my nose a bit but so far nothing's really made me choke with rage. If anything, I totally got a kick out of seeing the word 'shikari' and suddenly knowing that's the Hindi word for 'hunter'. Which Doyle never actually translates it in the text but I could have missed that.
There's such a wonderful Englishness about all the emotion and the manners, and this hilariously enamoured fascination with Americans that made me think "Doyle, that's totally you, isn't it?" I mean, he has Holmes practically witter about how wonderful Americans are and how they really shouldn't be ostracised by English society which pretty much had me laughing uproariously in my head. Doyle, you dork.
I'm rather looking forward to Moriarty re-appearing. I'm almost certain he does, and I hope this time it's for the length of a novel where we really get to see him and Holmes tussle it out, intellectually of course, rather than the brief snippet we got in The Final Problem. Oh it's going to be awesome to read Michael Chabon's The Final Solution after I finish this, whenever that is.
I'm only about halfway through the Return collection so plenty more to go, not to mention the novella-length The Hound Of The Baskervilles. Man, I wish I didn't already know the trick. *pouts and kicks*
And holy fuck, the drugs. That it's in the very second novella, The Sign Of Four, and in the very first paragraph that we see Holmes inject himself with cocaine. Gah. Seven per cent or whatever, I was still equal parts horror and delight. And truly, all these emotional and addictive characteristics combined, I have never realised just how much House is based on Holmes. Zomg. So awesome!
Mind you, the newest discussion on Dear Author has totally got me yearning for all my Heyers. To think it was only this time last year that I was discovering her. *sigh* God, I want to be immersed in all that language and the delicious humour and all those lovely descriptions and the twists and turns of emotion. Just the multifaceted ecstasy that is Heyer.
No matter. If I can't have Heyer, at least I have Holmes. And do not mention the movie to me or I may be forced to type out the physical description of Holmes direct from the yellowed curling page. Who're you calling a purist?! *lol*
Oh, I'm hungry. Ah, I have chocolate. Good o.