"My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the daily routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation. That is why I have chosen my own particular profession, or rather created it. I am the only one in the world."The second Sherlock Holmes book opens and closes with cocaine.For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist, all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction.Watson disapproves of Sherlock's nasty seven-percent solution, but our hero just finds life so boring."Hence the cocaine. I cannot live without brainwork. What else is there to live for? Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun-coloured houses. Would could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the use of having powers, Doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them? Crime is commonplace, existence is commonplace, and no qualities save those which are commonplace have any function upon earth."Nowadays we would recognize Holmes's wild mood swings - which are mentioned quite frequently in this novel - as bipolar disorder or some other variant of mood disorder.Watson sweetly offers a puzzle to Holmes (a watch) in order to cheer him up."Would you think me impertinent if I were to put your theories to a more severe test?""On the contrary," he answered, "it would prevent me from taking a second dose of cocaine. I should be delighted to look into any problem which you might submit to me."Or perhaps not so sweetly.I handed him over the watch with some slight feeling of amusement in my heart, for the test was, as I thought, an impossible one, and I intended it as a lesson against the somewhat dogmatic tone which he occasionally assumed. However, after this simple puzzle is solved, it seems nothing is in Sherlock's immediate future but more cocaine. Luckily for all involved, a beautiful young woman (27) comes to the door, pleading with Sherlock for help with a very mysterious case involving her missing father and some gorgeous pearls. She seems hopeful that the dashing veteran Watson will accompany Sherlock on her case."But would he come?" she asked with something appealing in her voice and expression."I shall be proud and happy," I said fervently, "if I can be of any service."Mmmmmm-hmmmmmm, I just bet you would, Watson - you sly dog! LOL I'm kidding, of course. Watson is about as far from a sly dog as you can get. He is such a good and honorable man in this novel he was starting to get me a little bit excited! Honorable and good men who are patient and kind make my heart beat faster....This gem of a novel yields some amazing benefits for the reader.1.) The sweet and budding friendship between Sherlock and John. Oftentimes Sherlock is portrayed as a cold son of a gun."What a very attractive woman!" I exclaimed, turning to my companion.He had lit his pipe again and was leaning back with drooping eyelids. "Is she?" he said languidly. "I did not observe.""You really are an automaton - a calculating machine," I cried. "There is something positively inhuman in you at times."But nothing could be farther from the truth. Sherlock Holmes does his best to attempt to squash his emotions, "But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment."...but we all know that he is a loving and kind person.Don't believe me? Look at how kind and considerate he is to his friend Watson in this book.When about to track down a murderer:"Are you game for a six-mile trudge, Watson?""Certainly," I answered."Your leg will stand it?""Oh, yes."Sherlock isn't averse to lulling Watson asleep with some lullabies."Lie down there on the sofa and see if I can put you to sleep."He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air - his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face and the rise and fall of his bow.Not to mention Sherlock's dry sense of humor and belly-laughs he shares with his best friend.Sherlock Holmes and I looked blankly at each other and then burst simultaneously into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.He loves having a friend and a confederate. Sherlock is a social creature, like the vast majority of humans."Isn't it gorgeous!" said Holmes, grinning over his coffee cup. "What do you think of it?"...2.) (view spoiler)[The adorable love blossoming between Mary Morstan and John Watson.Like I said earlier, Watson's intense goodness and his determination to act honorably towards Mary was very sexy.What was I, an army surgeon with a weak leg and a weaker banking account, that I should dare to think of such things? She was a unit, a factor - nothing more. If my future were black, it was better surely to face it like a man than to attempt to brighten it by mere will-o'-the-wisps of the imagination.Aw. <3And even though he knows the treasure that he and Holmes are searching for will be the thing that yanks Mary from his grasp:While there was a chance of recovering it I was ready to devote my life to the one object. True, if I found it, it would probably put her forever beyond my reach. Yet it would be a petty and selfish love which would be influenced by such a thought as that. If Holmes could work to find the criminals, I had a tenfold stronger reason to urge me on to find the treasure.Ever since the first time they ventured out together, when they discovered the horrible corpse in Sholto's house, there was this kind of spark and trust between them.Miss Morston and I stood together, her hand was in mine. A wondrous subtle thing is love, for here were we two, who had never seen each other before that day, between whom no word or even look of affection had ever passed, and yet now in an hour of trouble our hands instinctively sought each other. I have marvelled at it since, but at the time it seemed the most natural thing that I should go out to her so, and, as she has often told me, there was in her also the instinct to turn to me for comfort and protection. So we stood hand in hand like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us.But Watson would never dishonor her or take advantage of her emotionally fragile state.She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve. It was to take her at a disadvantage to obtrude love upon her at such a time. *Carmen draws little hearts in her notebook* If Doyle added kissing to this love story, I would be on Cloud Nine here. What a mensch! And he's a tiger when he feels Mary's been hurt.I could have struck the man across the face, so hot was I at this callous and off-hand reference to so delicate a matter. (hide spoiler)]
Tsk, Tsk, Tsk...apparently that’s NOT tobacco Sherlock Holmes is smoking. You have to love the daring Sir Arthur displayed in this novel vis-à-vis his iconic detective. How many writers would have the chutzpah to risk tarnishing the mystique of their signature creation by depicting him shooting cocaine as a cure for boredom? Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Now that is what I call an opening paragraph. Well played, Mr. Doyle. I’m a big fan of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and one of my favorite aspects of the stories, odd as it might sound, is how thoroughly unlikable Holmes is. Let’s face it, the man is an asshole. He’s cold, callous, arrogant, misanthropic, consumed with his own needs, and sociopathic in his lack of empathy for others. If it were not for his unparalleled gifts for observation and deduction, there would be nothing to recommend him as a person. And that is precisely what makes him so interesting and so much fun to read about. He comes across as more anti-hero than hero, despite the fact that he is not generally classified as such. I would argue that he certainly fits under that label, especially now that we can add junkie to his list of flaws. (Incidentally, suddenly casting Robert Downey, Jr. in the role of Holmes makes a whole lot more sense. …Just kidding). Anyway, back to the story…In addition to introducing readers to the monkey on Sherlock’s back, this novel’s also noteworthy for being the first appearance of Mary Marston, the beautiful young woman who would go on to be Mr. Watson's beard wife. Mary calls on Holmes and entices him out of his melancholy with the promise of a challenging mystery involving the strange disappearance of her father many years before. Brightened by the prospect of being able to employ his prodigious mental faculties, Holmes accepts...and the game is, once more, afoot. What ensues is a complex, multi-layered plot that, while not my favorite of the Holmes mysteries, was solid enough to keep my interest. Starting with nothing but a few flimsy clues, a letter from an anonymous benefactor, and a story with large chunks in it, Holmes proceeds to works his usual magic and mesmerizes all concerned with a dazzling display of crime-solving. Of course. Along the way, Doyle weaves into the narrative an eclectic assortment of supporting players for Holmes and Watson encounter, including: a wooden-legged villain,a killer with baby feet,a group of criminal with a secret pact,a pair of corrupt prison guards,the Baker Street Irregulars,aboriginal tribesmen with bad attitudes, anda whole host of dead bodies. Overall, a solid Holmes mystery with some classic moments of Sherlockian lore, including the first utterance of the famous truism, "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” In comparison to the other two Holmes novels I've read, I didn’t like this quite as much as The Valley of Fear or A Study in Scarlet. The main reason for this is simply that I found the mysteries in the former books more appealing. Still, there is a lot to like here and Holmes manages to to unload quite a few notable quotables. He smiled gently. ‘It is of the first importance,’ he said, ‘not to allow your judgment to be biased by personal qualities. A client is to me a mere unit, a factor in a problem. The emotional qualities are antagonistic to clear reasoning. I assure you that the most winning woman I ever knew was hanged for poisoning three little children for their insurance-money, and the most repellant man of my acquaintance is a philanthropist who has spent nearly a quarter of a million upon the London poor.’ As I wrap this up, I want to give a final kudo to Doyle for the very end of the novel. In my opinion, it could not have been written better and I almost bumped the whole novel up to 4 stars based on it alone. Even though it doesn’t give away any plot information, I'm still going to hide it behind a spoiler tag since it includes the final lines of the novel. (view spoiler)[ ‘The division seems rather unfair,’ I remarked. ‘You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, ______ gets the credit, pray what remains for you?’ ‘For me,’ said Sherlock Holmes, ‘there still remains the cocaine-bottle.’ And he stretched his long white hand up for it. (hide spoiler)]
What do You think about The Sign Of Four (2001)?
Sherlock Holmes sets aside his cocaine addiction for a case. A young woman has been receiving pearls in the mail once a year for four years and now has a chance to meet her mysterious benefactor. Can Holmes and Watson figure out what's really going on without being ensnared in a web of deceit and murder?I read this with those scamps in the Non-crunchy Cool Classics group.So, Sherlock Holmes. For years, Holmes has been akin to H.P. Lovecraft for me in that I'm a much bigger fan of the works they inspired than the original works. When Jeff and his cohorts decided to read The Sign of Four in September, who was I to resist? After all, Sherlock is one kick ass show...Yeah, I'm still not a tremendous Sherlock Holmes fan. I understand that Arthur Conan Doyle was largely inventing the genre as he went but the longer Holmes stories always seem unnecessarily convoluted. Watson is a sycophant with very little personality of his own and Holmes is an ass, although not in an entertaining Benedict Cumberbatch sort of way.Still, I didn't hate it. It was interesting to see how the detective fiction genre has evolved over time. I wasn't expecting the pulpy boat chase near the end and Holmes actually had a bit more dimension to him than I remember.Due to its place in the genre and because I couldn't bring myself to actually dislike it, I'm giving this a hard-earned three out of five stars.
—Dan Schwent
Probably the best part of this book is that it begins and ends with Holmes shooting up cocaine because he's bored. I mean, that's just so damn dark, especially when A Study in Scarlet wasn't very dark at all.Probably the worst part is struggling through all the rampant racism, which isn't nearly as funny as the rampant anti-Mormonism was in aSiS. The peg-leg jewel thief Jonathan Small (awesome) is assisted by a cannibal pygmy named Tonga (also awesome, but also horribly awful). I had to put it down mid-climax because I was getting a little grossed out by all the Tonga stuff (I'm even having a hard time typing Tonga over and over) and also because I saw there was going to be a big Confession scene at the end (so boring). But then I finally finished it, if for no other reason than I really wanted to get to the next book with none of those dangling unfinished feelings. And you know, the ending was actually really interesting -- and oddly enough, like a really complex micro-novel about war and imperialism and slavery and revolution and morality and jewel-thievery. In twenty pages of the antagonist telling his backstory, you go from hating him to feeling sorry for him to hating him to feeling sorry for him again, which was a really fascinating thing to go through. Plus his backstory has a completely fleshed-out cast of multicultural characters that actually act (gasp) like human beings, which almost makes up for all the racism until you get to the part where he goes "and then I stopped by some island to pick up a little savage to help me commit crimes with." Also you have a love interest, two totally different but interlocking multi-generational mysteries, and a couple long speeches about how life is boring without cocaine. On the face of it, that is a rollicking good time -- just maybe not so much in execution, especially with the racism and whatnot. But still, you know? I liked it. I'm glad I read it. I can see myself getting more out of it on a second read.Also this little bit of poetry, dropped mid-sentence and never referred to again:"...on miracle plays, on medieval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, on the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the warships of the future..."
—Keith
That 'Sherlock' they showed on the BBC recently was really good wasn't it? I admit that I approached the notion of a modern day Sherlock Holmes with some degree of trepidation. How gimmicky would it be? Would the placing of such a character in a modern setting be played for jokes? Were the actors going to cope with the pressure of portraying such iconic Victorian figures in a modern setting, and could today’s CCTV London match its long ago dingy, smog-ridden self?As it turned out, there was no need to worry. Yes, it was gimmicky to a certain extent, but the introduction of a technologically savvy Holmes worked perfectly. Yes, it was certainly funny, but all of the humour came from the characters and in no way deviated from Conan-Doyles’s vision. And as for the actors, both Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman were superb, while London – even with all its shiny skyscrapers and clean air – can still be made to look distinctly sinister. This I think is the first Holmes adaptation to be filmed on Baker Street itself (albeit on the other side of the road from the Sherlock Holmes museum). Although when they went to Northumberland Street – one time site of The Northumberland Hotel, where Lord Baskerville stayed while in town – they were clearly in a different location. The most prominent feature on Northumberland Street these days is the quite lovely Sherlock Holmes pub.Those of you not living in Britain will have little clue what I’m talking about of course. But the US gets the programme in October I believe, and the rest of you keep your eyes peeled. I can thoroughly recommend it.Anyway, seeing the show inspired me to read the second Sherlock Holmes novel – and once again I can say I was impressed beyond my expectations. I’ve long held the belief that the short stories were far superior to the four novels (the first two volumes of those stories in particular), and so am surprised in my re-readings this year how much I’ve enjoyed both this and ‘A Study in Scarlet’.From a much franker than I remembered it opening drug scene, we are launched into wild hansom-cab ride of a case involving lost treasure, deadly assassins and a wronged young lady. Conan-Doyle maintains the adventurous momentum much better here than he did in ‘A Study in Scarlet’ (and if memory serves, better than the other two novels as well), so much so that it’s nearly the end before the pace lets up. Holmes and Watson are now firmly settled into the relationship we know, and their dialogue and banter is a constant delight. Okay, it has some flaws: the last chapter is somewhat superfluous, the other characters are broadly drawn (although, to be fair, instantly imaginable), and the book does show its vintage in its belief that there are races of people out there who are irredeemably savage. But this is a well worked entertaining thriller, featuring two old friends in their prime.I will re-read ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ next, although I’m still tempted to skip ‘The Valley of Fear’.
—F.R.
