From Holmes With a Mild Sense of Empathy
My dear Watson,
I realize, as I pick up my pen, the difficulty of the task before me. I am of a scientific mind, but even I am daunted by the enormity that comes with the task of filling a page. You must have an iron constitution to do this so continually. If you will permit me the audacity, however, I will tell you what you can do to make your time writing all the easier. Try, perhaps, focusing less on my emotional state. It is of no concern to your readers. In that strain, I may go so far as to say focus less on all emotions. The scientific nature of the case is, after all, the most important part of the story. I realize you may disagree and as such I would like to point out that these are suggestions, not orders. I thank you for your consideration as to my wellbeing, but I am fine. I can read my own limits.
To your readers, you may print the rest of my letter. Keep in mind it is still addressed towards you.
Many of your readers believe after reading your stories that I am irrevocably in love with that woman, Irene Adler. Please allow me to say, with the greatest conviction that I am indeed not in love with that woman. If anything else, I am intrigued with her keen reasoning abilities. She managed during the case you entitled A Scandal in Bohemia, to stay one step ahead of me. Me, Watson – one of the greatest detectives in London… or so the papers say. I am surprised and intrigued because women are notoriously emotional. They can manage to be quite intelligent, but they focus so greatly on their clothing and proper manners (both of which I have very little time with which to devote) they do not think of the consequences of their actions. As a result, it is quite refreshing to meet a woman like Adler, with whom I very nearly feel equal. She still leant on her emotions, but she planned her ideas very carefully, and even managed to use my motives against me. She’s given me more than enough reason to be wary of the fair sex.
However, one woman does not redeem the entire gender. The fair sex is not fit for my job. They haven’t the faculties or the emotional stability to complete the qualifications for my job. On this subject, however, I have little else to say. I must move on so as to keep this address as simple as possible.
Many readers have commented on my use of various weapons throughout your writings. I have heard more than a few queries from our fans as to my reasoning for carrying a pistol with me during some of my cases. I would like to point out to those readers that on almost every occasion I have had reason to believe that the person of interest whom we were pursuing was either armed, dangerous, or both. My use of a hunting crop instead of a pistol during your story entitled The Red-Headed League was due to my knowledge of the criminal, who I had encountered on several occasions before that particular case. He did not ever have a strong grip n a weapon, as he was a rather weak individual to begin with. The hook at the end of the hunting crop was also excellent for inflicting bruising upon a victim sufficient enough to have them howling in pain after two or three smart hits which, had it come down to it, was my ‘plan b,’ if you will.
Knowledge on a range of weapons is also beneficial to a detective such as myself. It is no exaggeration of my skill to admit that I can match a bullet to its parent gun by measuring a similar gun and finding the scratches to match if the parent gun were to be unearthed. As with my knowledge of various ashes, my knowledge on various weapons must be extensive enough that I may identify a gun by its ammunition. It has helped me on more than one occasion.
Another useful practice that I have almost always been interested in is the science of chemistry. When you first moved in, Watson, you were surprised to find that I was covered in chemical stains. However, I had very nearly discovered a chemical concoction to reveal traces of blood that may have been mopped up. By the time you began publishing your accounts, I had successfully found the chemical structure that did just that. Chemical problems are nearly as beautiful as the red thread of crime I have to unravel. Quite interesting.
Footprints, too, are an important component of the scientific process. If one follows a trail of footprints, one can determine not only the height of the person which is being pursued, but also the health and the wealth of said individual. For instance A man has a trail in which the strides are of considerable distance from one another. He is tall. It is true, also, that the imprints are quite shallow. Though the man is tall, he is poor, as the soles of his shoes are quite worn away, and therefore do not make a deep, precise imprint in the earth. From this, then, we can profile the executor of the crime and estimate where he lives. Never underestimate the power of evidence, Watson, and do warn your readers against a similar evil.
My explanation for the footprints leads me to the next logical step in my (admittedly lengthy) essay on my views of your stories: My method of deduction. Now, deduction is not to be taken lightly. You have seen yourself its usefulness and its drawbacks. My method of reasoning is simply this: One should observe everything possible; from the silverware on the table to the shininess of the buttons on the Duke’s coat. Especially important when observing a man is his stance. If he stands especially erect, with searching eyes, he is likely a military man. Military men have a bearing quite like no other. They are vigilant and scrupulous in regards to their cleanliness. Though they do not generally act the same as another, many military men are jovial fellows, eager to talk to any man willing to buy them a drink. Military men also love tattoos. They are, in most cases, visible on the inside of the wrist or on the shoulder. It is seldom you see such tattoos on the wearer’s dominant hand, as tattoos are quite painful, and could very well pain the man for a few days. But enough on military men, or my method of reasoning at all. If I write anymore, I fear I shall be out of the smaller jobs!
Now, my dear companion, we move on to your own hypotheses. They are about myself, and though I do despise writing about myself, I shall break my rule for you.
You have assumed throughout your writings that I am not in any way human, as humans show far more emotion when in the sanctuary of their home. It is true, I do not express my thoughts as readily as you, but I keep in mind the chance that, if a client should come in, it would be a dreadful sight to see the consulting detective whom the police so readily trust throwing his hands in the air like a madman and shouting at the dog. No, the only logical time to release my emotions is in the absolute undisturbed silence of my quarters.
You have guessed my reason for using the cocaine bottle is an utter loss of what to do with the thoughts, or rather, the lack thereof, flying about my head. This is partially true. I ache for brain-work daily. I am, to put it simply, easily bored. People bore me. Knowledge bores me. What does not bore me is a good chase. The hunt for knowledge, or an item whose location I knew… The hunt is the meaning of life. After all, are we not predators? Were we not at one point animals? Philosophy aside, my old chap, the reason why I do what I do is simply for the chase.
You’ve mentioned before that I have a loosened sense of the law; that I appear to have no regard for authority. I would like to point out that I have never murdered a man for any reason by self-defense. I have only really broken the law in order to find evidence necessary to convict the wrong-doer. Otherwise, I would have likely been a detective for the police force, if I did not so detest being under the thumb of one so much less intelligent than myself. Many have the ability to do well about their current standard (my thoughts are on Lestrade, I will admit), but they haven’t any mind to try, and for that reason I will not allow myself to be bullied by officers in the London police force.
My “consulting detective” career has always gone well, but I daresay it has only increased since you arrived in my life, dear friend. The idea for such a career began when I found that people – normal people – bore me with an intensity which I would hardly fathom. Conversation bored me, as it was little more than explaining exactly what I had in mind and how I had reached that conclusion than anything else. Therefore, my solution was to put myself in a position where I would find the most interesting brain-work for the fewest necessary communications with others as possible. I will admit I found myself meditating on the name for longer than I would have otherwise liked, but when the title “consulting detective” finally reached me, I was so overjoyed I immediately set out to buy the necessary supplies. Indeed, it was not long after that I was introduced to Lestrade and the police began regularly consulting me on cases. Even as I write, I find myself electrified by the memory of meeting such a steady stream of problems to solve. Of course, this means nothing to you or your readers, so I will speak no more on the subject. However, consulting is a simple solution to a vexing problem. I now have very little contact with people. I do miss a steady income, however. My money, as you well know, comes in fits and spurts as my customers feel necessary to tip me for my service. While I would not turn away money regularly, I cannot willingly take money from a simple case. I just don’t feel as though I put enough work in to have earned it.
Ah, but I see you glaring at me for scribbling away for as long as I have. Sit, Watson, you’ve done enough. I can’t thank you enough for your services all of these years, and as such I shall wait until after you’ve read this to allow myself to utter the wretched sentiment aloud.
Your roommate,
S. H.
My Dreams Are Weird
I had a dream I married Axel last night. I can’t even explain how weird it was.
It was a play, see, and we were rehearsing, but then it was actually a performance, and I was really screwing it up, and then next thing I know, I’m actually married to him!
Weird dream. But you have to fully understand Axel to understand why the dream itself was so weird.
He’s hairy. So. Damn. Hairy.
His chest hair sticks out of high collared shirts. I was going to search for a picture to show you, but I was so disturbed (not only by the nude man that my school’s search engine did not block) that I thought I shouldn’t put you through the same horrors.
Hair. Everywhere.
*shudder*
Your Faithful Author
APs Loom Above Us
And soon we shall meet them as they fall upon us.
My EnviroSci test will go swimmingly, I’m sure, but what I’m really concerned about is my Literature exam. It’s the equivalent of a second-year English class in college, and I am more than freaking out. I haven’t the first clue as to what to study (the AP book, obviously, but it’sEnglish. How do you study for such a variable class?), and I keep thinking about my plans to become an editor.
For one, I am not good at analyzing on a deep, though-provoking level. I can’t look at a passage and go, “I know exactly what it is you mean, insert narrator here, as it is evident in this, that, and the other.” In fact, I read a passage and say, “Wow, this grammatical structure is so different from that of today’s! What a phenomenon. I wonder if I should find some good-looking diction to put in this essay so it looks like I’m not focusing on the change in grammar the English language has undergone since the 1800s.”
Yes. That is seriously what I think about. Grammar.
Is there a profession that involves only grammar and no thought-provoking analysis to be had? Hmm, I didn’t think so. Ah, well, it appears I’ll be doomed to low Bs in my English classes for all eternity. That can’t be good for my GPA.
As always,
Your Faithfully Un-analytical Author
I Am Hard at Work
I apologize for the lack of posting. I am still working hard on my Sherlock Holmes paper. Want to see the outline?
Sherlock Holmes Final Project Outline
I. To the readers of Sherlock Holmes
II. A brief address to Watson
- It is difficult to write
- Emotions are still, however, meaningless
- Watson is entirely too concerned about my wellbeing
- I do love having a friend
- Moving on
III. On women
- Not in love with Irene Adler
- They are not unintelligent, but they allow their emotions to run wild, and therefore do not think clearly
i. Speaking of Watson
- However, they are not fit for a job such as mine
IV. On weapons
- Always carry a gun
- The importance of improvisation
- The importance of a knowledge on the subject
- My favorite weapon (the hunting crop)
V. On science
- The importance of a scientific curiosity
- The importance of footprints
- Logical thinking, “deduction” or ‘abduction’
VI. Common misconceptions (What Watson has incorrectly assumed)
- I am logical, but not devoid of emotions
- I am easily bored
- People bore me
- Watson is such a pansy
VII. On “consulting”
- I do not wish to be a detective under the thumb of the police. They are not observant, and their laws are meaningless to me
- Consulting, therefore, puts me in the path of the fewest people possible
- The money is not outstanding, however
- Farewell
- Thank you for all of your amazing 17 years of work together, old chap. You’ve helped me greatly.
As always,
Your Faithfully Holmesian Author
What Do All These Have In Common?
http://www.connerprairie.org/Learn-And-Do/Indiana-History/America-1860-1900/Lives-Of-Women.aspx
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_chemistry
http://www.roadjunky.com/cultureguide/1404/etiquette-and-manners-english-culture-guide
That’s right, dear followers! The game is afoot. I’ve begun anew on my Sherlock Holmes kick, and this is the research I’m managing.
Dear God, please help me.
Cheerfully yours,
Your Faithful Author
P.S. I’m not sure how I feel about how kitschy everything is. I mean, the boot-pipes are most certainly something Holmes would not have in his house. They are useless, and Holmes is not one for uselessness. It’s why he doesn’t have any real art on his walls.
New Idea!
Instead of crapping out on my idea, why not just make something accessible? Well, I managed, after four tries, to log into WordPress. Instead, though, I’ve created a Tumblr account under a similar url for you all to view, just in case I don’t post to WordPress.
Here:
Perhaps I Should Amend My Resolution Again
I haven’t the focus or the technology to continue blogging from home. My older brother fixed this old iBook G4 for me so it had a working wireless card, but it’s around eight years old, so most of the websites I use are too advanced for the processor to be able to handle it. I have only a general understanding of computers and the march of technological advancements since their invention, but I do know that it is far too old to handle websites very well. As a result, my father has all but banned me from using his laptop, as I should be able to function normally on this iBook. That is, of course, far from the truth, but I can’t expect him to lend me his laptop when, it’s true, I have one that functions well enough.
The problem arises, however, when I attempt to sign in to my WordPress account. The computer functions at such a slow rate that by the time the wireless card picks up the signal and transfers the necessary packets of information, the log-in attempt has timed-out and I have to input my information all over again. To put it plainly: My computer is so old I can’t log in.
So, it is with a heavy heart (is it really?) that I lay down a new plan for my journal. Instead of attempting to post every day, as I did for only three months of the year, I shall try to post five days out of the seven. This is the only option I can see that appeases both me and you faithful readers. Hopefully, I shan’t be hanged for such treason.
In other news, I am focusing on a new style of authoring. With keyboard at fingertips, I introduce you to the voice of Dr. John Watson.
“Barrymore considers that he has a grievance,” he said. “He thinks that it was
unfair on our part to hunt his brother-in-law down when he, of his own free will, had
told us the secret.”The butler was standing very pale but very collected before us.
“I may have spoken too warmly, sir,” said he, “and if I have, I am sure that I beg
your pardon. At the same time, I was very much surprised when I heard you two
gentlemen come back this morning and learned that you had been chasing
Selden. The poor fellow has enough to fight against without my putting more upon
his track.”“If you had told us of your own free will it would have been a different thing,” said
the baronet, “you only told us, or rather your wife only told us, when it was forced
from you and you could not help yourself.”“I didn’t think you would have taken advantage of it, Sir Henry — indeed I didn’t.”
“The man is a public danger. There are lonely houses scattered over the moor,
and he is a fellow who would stick at nothing. You only want to get a glimpse of his
face to see that. Look at Mr. Stapleton’s house, for example, with no one but
himself to defend it. There’s no safety for anyone untill he is under lock and key.”“He’ll break into no house, sir. I give you my solemn word upon that. But he will
never trouble anyone in this country again. I assure you, Sir Henry, that in a very
few days the necessary arrangements will have been made and he will be on his
way to South America. For God’s sake, sir, I beg of you not to let the police know
that he is still on the moor. They have given up the chase there, and he can lie
quiet until the ship is ready for him. You can’t tell on him without getting my wife
and me into trouble. I beg you, sir, to say nothing to the police.”“What do you say, Watson?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “If he were safely out of the country it would relieve the
tax-payer of a burden.”“But how about the chance of his holding someone up before he goes?”
“He would not do anything so mad, sir. We have provided him with all that he can
want. To commit a crime would be to show where he was hiding.”“That is true,” said Sir Henry. “Well, Barrymore –”
“God bless you, sir, and thank you from my heart! It would have killed my poor wife
had he been taken again.”“I guess we are aiding and abetting a felony, Watson? But, after what we have
heard I don’t feel as if I could give the man up, so there is an end of it. All right,
Barrymore, you can go.”With a few broken words of gratitude the man turned, but he hesitated and then
came back.“You’ve been so kind to us, sir, that I should like to do the best I can for you in
return. I know something, Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have said it before, but it
was long after the inquest that I found it out. I’ve never breathed a word about it yet
to mortal man. It’s about poor Sir Charles’s death.”The baronet and I were both upon our feet. “Do you know how he died?”
“No, sir, I don’t know that.”
“What then?”
“I know why he was at the gate at that hour. It was to meet a woman.”
“To meet a woman! He?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the woman’s name?”
“I can’t give you the name, sir, but I can give you the initials. Her initials were L. L.”
“How do you know this, Barrymore?”
“Well, Sir Henry, your uncle had a letter that morning. He had usually a great many
letters, for he was a public man and well known for his kind heart, so that everyone
who was in trouble was glad to turn to him. But that morning, as it chanced, there
was only this one letter, so I took the more notice of it. It was from Coombe Tracey,
and it was addressed in a woman’s hand.”“Well?”
“Well, sir, I thought no more of the matter, and never would have done had it not
been for my wife. Only a few weeks ago she was cleaning out Sir Charles’s study
– it had never been touched since his death — and she found the ashes of a
burned letter in the back of the grate. The greater part of it was charred to pieces,
but one little slip, the end of a page, hung together, and the writing could still be
read, though it was gray on a black ground. It seemed to us to be a postscript at
the end of the letter and it said: ‘Please, please, as you are a gentleman, burn this
letter, and be at the gate by ten o clock. Beneath it were signed the initials L. L.”“Have you got that slip?”
“No, sir, it crumbled all to bits after we moved it.”
“Had Sir Charles received any other lettefs in the same writting?”
“Well, sir, I took no particular notice of his letters. I should not have noticed this
one, only it happened to come alone.”“And you have no idea who L. L. is?”
“No, sir. No more than you have. But I expect if we could lay our hands upon that
lady we should know more about Sir Charles’s death.”“I cannot understand, Barrymore, how you came to conceal this important
information.”“Well, sir, it was immediately after that our own trouble came to us. And then
again, sir, we were both of us very fond of Sir Charles, as we well might be
considering all that he has done for us. To rake this up couldn’t help our poor
master, and it’s well to go carefully when there’s a lady in the case. Even the best
of us –”“You thought it might injure his reputation?”
“Well, sir, I thought no good could come of it. But now you have been kind to us,
and I feel as if it would be treating you unfairly not to tell you all that I know about
the matter.”“Very good, Barrymore; you can go.” When the butler had left us Sir Henry turned
to me. “Well, Watson, what do you think of this new light?”“It seems to leave the darkness rather blacker than before.”
“So I think. But if we can only trace L. L. it should clear up the whole business. We
have gained that much. We know that there is someone who has the facts if we
can only find her. What do you think we should do?”“Let Holmes know all about it at once. It will give him the clue for which he has
been seeking. I am much mistaken if it does not bring him down.”I went at once to my room and drew up my report of the morning’s conversation for
Holmes. It was evident to me that he had been very busy of late, for the notes
which I had from Baker Street were few and short, with no comments upon the
information which I had supplied and hardly any reference to my mission. No doubt
his blackmailing case is absorbing all his faculties. And yet this new factor must
surely arrest his attention and renew his interest. I wish that he were here.(Taken without permission from http://familymanagement.com/literacy/sherlock/novels/hound/chapter10.html)
I have an end-of-the-year assignment in my Advanced Placement Literature and Compostion course. I am to take any novel of my choosing and analyze a portion of it. I have chosen to analyze the syntax, diction, etc. of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic short stories from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, andThe Return of Sherlock Holmes.
Of course, it would take far too long to analyze every pamphlet, so I instead have decided to sweeten my analytical skills to The Scandal of Bohemia. In my own pamphlet, I shall take on the voice of one aquiline, mercurial detective of whom we all love; one Sherlock Holmes.
I have yet to complete my research, but I have found from (ehem) Wikipedia that Holmes was not only an accomplished boxer and singlestick fighter, he uses a very specific method of analysis which he incorrectly deems “deduction.” This is not, if you will excuse the pun, the case. In fact, he uses what is called “abductive” reasoning, otherwise known as the Sherlockian method. Abductive reasoning is a type of reasoning in which the hypothesis is made to match as much of the evidence as possible. It is used often enough in the real world, but it is particularly fun to read about in Dr. Watson’s pamphlets because Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has, of course, a wider scope of knowledge than Dr. Watson or the reader.
All in all, it is an immensely interesting project. I hope to keep it to four or five pages, but I have not yet begun to write it. I will see how lengthy my paper happens to be when I’m finished. I shall grant you a copy to it, if you would so like.
As always,
Your Faithfully Holmesian Author
Rap Musical: Would You See It?
I was listening to Lose Yourself by Eminem and I wondered… Would you see a rap musical?
Like 8 Mile, but on stage, that dealt with the trials and tribulations of someone in a situation similar to Eminem’s movie premise, or something completely different like the difficulties in the rise to fame or even just the difficulties of being noticed?
As always,
Your Faithfully Curious Author
Pottermore!
It’s apparently finally open to the public. I’ve begun my search and am trying to get through the first few chapters of the first book as quickly as possible so I may be sorted.
Hoping for Ravenclaw!
Your Faithful Author
