Of death, of bumblebees, of old age.
Book title: A Slight Trick of the Mind
Author: Mitch Cullin
Cover summary: Holmes - "a genius in whom scientific curiosity is raised to the status of heroic passion" - is famous for his powers for deduction. His world is made up of hard evidence and incontestable facts, his observations and conclusions unsullied by personal feelings, until novelist Cullin goes behind the cold, unsentimental surface to reveal for the first time the inner world of an obsessively private man.
It is 1947, and the long-retired Holmes, now ninety-three, lives in a remote Sussex farmhouse, where his memories and intellect begin to go adrift. He lives with a housekeeper and her young son, Roger, whose patient, respectful demeanor stirs paternal affection in Holmes. Holmes has settled into the routine of tending his apiary, writing in journals, and grappling with the diminishing powers of his razor-sharp mind, when Roger comes upon a case hitherto unknown. It is that of a Mrs. Keller, the long-ago object of Holmes' deep - and never acknowledged - infatuation.
As Mitch Cullin weaves together Holmes's hidden past, his poignant struggle to retain mental acuity, and his unlikely relationship with Roger, Holmes is transformed from the aloof mythic figure into an ordinary man, confronting and acquiescing to emotions he has resisted his entire life. This subtle and wise work is more than just a reimagining of a classic character. It is a profound meditation on the faultiness of memory and how, as we grow older, the way we see the world is inevitably altered.
Personal thoughts: It was halfway through the book that I realized that this book had no plot at all - there was no beginning, no end. Even the case that was placed in between alternate chapters of the book had no real ending, no real solution. This book was entirely about Holmes and his character, how he copes with his old age and his feelings for those who have passed on.
These sort of books leave me feeling a bit depressed at the end; Holmes is (I wouldn't say reduced) much different from the infallible god I usually imagine him as. This book probably properly portrays Holmes as a real person; what he would have been like if he were actually as human as you or I, and though I say that I love to give him character traits to make him human, this book makes him undeniably human to the point of depression.
The writing is, of course, brilliant. It develops just the right tone for a book like this: none too humorous, beautiful and melancholy, reflecting the faltering thoughts of an aging man. Somewhere I realized that Holmes and Dumbledore had much in common (or was it that I wished for them to have much in common? I can't tell - I'm too biased), not only counting the bumblebee connection. They are both, after all, incredibly intelligent, bachelors unto death, wise and fallible. When I read about Holmes' dearest friends falling away, eventually until Holmes was the only one left (Mrs. Hudson was the first, taken by pneumonia, then Watson whom Holmes claimed he had always called John instead, and lastly Mycroft, who was, of course, the same as ever), I thought inexplicably of Dumbledore in his old age. Though Dumbledore may have had friends left (since Wizards tend to live to extremely old ages) I think he must have felt as alone as Holmes did.
The fact that Roger dies in the middle convinced me that this book was about death and departure, and I was waiting for Holmes to die at the end. However, Holmes did not die at the end, confusing me a bit. I have always thought that Holmes would die after everyone else had left for the literary afterlife, despite his unhealthy lifestyle, but to have him continue to live like this is almost unbearable torture. I hesitate to say that he isn't really living anymore, but surely a man like him would deserve a peaceful passing? To have him live to ninety-three when most in that time and age wouldn't see past seventy is just cruel. I reiterate that it would have been kinder to Holmes if he really had died all those years ago within the falls of Reichenbach.
I'm quite sure there was more I wished to say, but I've forgotten them now. Oh dear.
Author: Mitch Cullin
Cover summary: Holmes - "a genius in whom scientific curiosity is raised to the status of heroic passion" - is famous for his powers for deduction. His world is made up of hard evidence and incontestable facts, his observations and conclusions unsullied by personal feelings, until novelist Cullin goes behind the cold, unsentimental surface to reveal for the first time the inner world of an obsessively private man.
It is 1947, and the long-retired Holmes, now ninety-three, lives in a remote Sussex farmhouse, where his memories and intellect begin to go adrift. He lives with a housekeeper and her young son, Roger, whose patient, respectful demeanor stirs paternal affection in Holmes. Holmes has settled into the routine of tending his apiary, writing in journals, and grappling with the diminishing powers of his razor-sharp mind, when Roger comes upon a case hitherto unknown. It is that of a Mrs. Keller, the long-ago object of Holmes' deep - and never acknowledged - infatuation.
As Mitch Cullin weaves together Holmes's hidden past, his poignant struggle to retain mental acuity, and his unlikely relationship with Roger, Holmes is transformed from the aloof mythic figure into an ordinary man, confronting and acquiescing to emotions he has resisted his entire life. This subtle and wise work is more than just a reimagining of a classic character. It is a profound meditation on the faultiness of memory and how, as we grow older, the way we see the world is inevitably altered.
Personal thoughts: It was halfway through the book that I realized that this book had no plot at all - there was no beginning, no end. Even the case that was placed in between alternate chapters of the book had no real ending, no real solution. This book was entirely about Holmes and his character, how he copes with his old age and his feelings for those who have passed on.
These sort of books leave me feeling a bit depressed at the end; Holmes is (I wouldn't say reduced) much different from the infallible god I usually imagine him as. This book probably properly portrays Holmes as a real person; what he would have been like if he were actually as human as you or I, and though I say that I love to give him character traits to make him human, this book makes him undeniably human to the point of depression.
The writing is, of course, brilliant. It develops just the right tone for a book like this: none too humorous, beautiful and melancholy, reflecting the faltering thoughts of an aging man. Somewhere I realized that Holmes and Dumbledore had much in common (or was it that I wished for them to have much in common? I can't tell - I'm too biased), not only counting the bumblebee connection. They are both, after all, incredibly intelligent, bachelors unto death, wise and fallible. When I read about Holmes' dearest friends falling away, eventually until Holmes was the only one left (Mrs. Hudson was the first, taken by pneumonia, then Watson whom Holmes claimed he had always called John instead, and lastly Mycroft, who was, of course, the same as ever), I thought inexplicably of Dumbledore in his old age. Though Dumbledore may have had friends left (since Wizards tend to live to extremely old ages) I think he must have felt as alone as Holmes did.
The fact that Roger dies in the middle convinced me that this book was about death and departure, and I was waiting for Holmes to die at the end. However, Holmes did not die at the end, confusing me a bit. I have always thought that Holmes would die after everyone else had left for the literary afterlife, despite his unhealthy lifestyle, but to have him continue to live like this is almost unbearable torture. I hesitate to say that he isn't really living anymore, but surely a man like him would deserve a peaceful passing? To have him live to ninety-three when most in that time and age wouldn't see past seventy is just cruel. I reiterate that it would have been kinder to Holmes if he really had died all those years ago within the falls of Reichenbach.
I'm quite sure there was more I wished to say, but I've forgotten them now. Oh dear.