The first time I ever set foot in a public (i.e. Government-run) school was my freshman year in high school. It was the worst year of my entire life. There were only two things that kept me alive that excruciatingly long 174 days. One was Drama (competitive, plays, etc.), which I absolutely lived for. The other was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Yes, I spent that entire year lugging around a 1000 some page block of book, reading only a story a day (if I could help it) to make it go farther. I don't think you could comprehend how dreadfully bored I was. To amuse myself I would play silly games like the Get-As-Close-As-Possible-To-A-British-Accent-Before-People-Notice game and the Annoy-The-Heck-Out-Of-Your-English-Teacher-By-Cramming-As-Many-British-Archaisms-As-Possible-Into-Your-Papers game. Great fun, that. For one "assignment" we had to "write a fake letter to a person who has inspired you and taught you something important." While most kids wrote about their Gramps or Uncle Ed, I wrote to my dearest and most loyal companion, Mr. Holmes.
Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
I am writing you to express my sincere gratitude. I don't know how I could pass my time if I did not have a collection describing your most singular cases. I rather believe I would simply pine away from boredom.
I have read many (quite too many to list) of your intriguing adventures, which your good friend Dr. Watson has been so kind as to record. These accounts have helped me immensely, and have taught me much. Why, only yesterday I spent the afternoon trying to determine the handedness of the individual who painted a banner. I can now say with great confidence that the person who painted it was right-handed. You see, although your methods are generally quite beyond my capacity, I can apply them in some cases.
Again I thank you for giving me something to think about these dreary autumn days, and I heartily regret that we shall never personally meet.
Sincerely,
Robyn
PS
Don't fret; I shall write to Dr. Watson straight away to thank him for recording these cases.
Scrawled at the top of my paper: "Write to real person." (italics mine)
I can only say that I was surprised that she didn't write "too wordy" like on most of my papers. *sigh*
Needless to say, I did not like that teacher.
Alright - enough about that nonsense. Here is the main point of this post:
When I was reading 1892 London and observing 2009 America I noticed some strange things.
Holmes, being a logician, used "simple" logic to determine various things about a person, place, thing or situation. He could tell if a man was married by the dust on his hat, and the trade of a fellow by the curves of his thumb. The reader (as well as good Dr. Watson) then proceeds to feel incredibly dense and silly as Holmes calmly reveals his magic through an absurdly logical step-by-step procedure. "Of course, how silly of me!" we all think. But yet...
To the 21st century American mind, something is not quite right.
Who says that a man who's hat is dusty is not married? Why would having a wife make any difference anyway? Why does Holmes automatically assume that everyone has high tea at 4:00 pm? What if Mr. Rucastle just so happens to prefer his tea at 3:00?
Because, of course, people just did. There were no doubt minor variations in the habits of the common folk of 1890s London, but not to the extent that there are in this day in age. Lunch falls anywhere between 10:00 and 4:00, men dust their own hats (if they have any to dust), and you absolutely cannot count on there only being only different 72 types of perfume and ? types of cigarette ash. There is simply too much in our culture (or should I say cultures?) for any logical deductions to contain. It is not just irregularity of daily routines that would make Holmes' job so difficult - we as a culture are also plagued with severe emptiness of purpose in our minor actions.
"Why did you watch that two hour long infomercial on the Veggie-Chop??"
"Because I felt like it, that's why. Besides, there was nothing else for me to do."
While Holmes may easily deduce that Mr. Adler went for a short horseback ride after he strangled Mr. Dupin, there would be no way for Holmes to deduce that after Mr. Smith shot Mrs. Baker he decided to watch two hours of infomercial because he was bored and felt like it.
Perhaps these are bad examples - I'm sure that plenty of people did meaningless things then as well. However, (I could be wrong) it seems unlikely to me that there was even half of the different distractions and amusements that we have now - and all this, I wager, would make it nearly impossible for Holmes to successfully track our daily routines. We have no regularity. Not just family to family, person to person, but even to some extent with each individual. Did you do today precisely what you did yesterday? Do you wash on Mondays and iron on Tuesdays? I certainly don't. I do what I need to when I need to and what I want when I want to. When your profession depends on the regularities and commonness of others, you cannot afford their tardiness (nor their sloppiness, laziness or purposelessness).
On the other hand...
I could be looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps it was Sir Arthur's fault - perhaps his books poorly reflect the reality of the average Londoner and his habits. I truly hope that this were not the case, for if it were, then Holmes never could exist, in America or elsewhere.
And then again, it may well be that I do Holmes little justice - I may be underestimating his powers of logic.
Unfortunately, I fear that there is no sure way to ever know...
 |
| Who just so happened to have the most remarkable mustache ever |
Yes, I spent that entire year lugging around a 1000 some page block of book, reading only a story a day (if I could help it) to make it go farther. I don't think you could comprehend how dreadfully bored I was. To amuse myself I would play silly games like the Get-As-Close-As-Possible-To-A-British-Accent-Before-People-Notice game and the Annoy-The-Heck-Out-Of-Your-English-Teacher-By-Cramming-As-Many-British-Archaisms-As-Possible-Into-Your-Papers game. Great fun, that. For one "assignment" we had to "write a fake letter to a person who has inspired you and taught you something important." While most kids wrote about their Gramps or Uncle Ed, I wrote to my dearest and most loyal companion, Mr. Holmes.
***
Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
I am writing you to express my sincere gratitude. I don't know how I could pass my time if I did not have a collection describing your most singular cases. I rather believe I would simply pine away from boredom.
I have read many (quite too many to list) of your intriguing adventures, which your good friend Dr. Watson has been so kind as to record. These accounts have helped me immensely, and have taught me much. Why, only yesterday I spent the afternoon trying to determine the handedness of the individual who painted a banner. I can now say with great confidence that the person who painted it was right-handed. You see, although your methods are generally quite beyond my capacity, I can apply them in some cases.
Again I thank you for giving me something to think about these dreary autumn days, and I heartily regret that we shall never personally meet.
Sincerely,
Robyn
PS
Don't fret; I shall write to Dr. Watson straight away to thank him for recording these cases.
***
Scrawled at the top of my paper: "Write to real person." (italics mine)
I can only say that I was surprised that she didn't write "too wordy" like on most of my papers. *sigh*
Needless to say, I did not like that teacher.
Alright - enough about that nonsense. Here is the main point of this post:
When I was reading 1892 London and observing 2009 America I noticed some strange things.
Holmes, being a logician, used "simple" logic to determine various things about a person, place, thing or situation. He could tell if a man was married by the dust on his hat, and the trade of a fellow by the curves of his thumb. The reader (as well as good Dr. Watson) then proceeds to feel incredibly dense and silly as Holmes calmly reveals his magic through an absurdly logical step-by-step procedure. "Of course, how silly of me!" we all think. But yet...
To the 21st century American mind, something is not quite right.
Who says that a man who's hat is dusty is not married? Why would having a wife make any difference anyway? Why does Holmes automatically assume that everyone has high tea at 4:00 pm? What if Mr. Rucastle just so happens to prefer his tea at 3:00?
Because, of course, people just did. There were no doubt minor variations in the habits of the common folk of 1890s London, but not to the extent that there are in this day in age. Lunch falls anywhere between 10:00 and 4:00, men dust their own hats (if they have any to dust), and you absolutely cannot count on there only being only different 72 types of perfume and ? types of cigarette ash. There is simply too much in our culture (or should I say cultures?) for any logical deductions to contain. It is not just irregularity of daily routines that would make Holmes' job so difficult - we as a culture are also plagued with severe emptiness of purpose in our minor actions.
"Why did you watch that two hour long infomercial on the Veggie-Chop??"
"Because I felt like it, that's why. Besides, there was nothing else for me to do."
While Holmes may easily deduce that Mr. Adler went for a short horseback ride after he strangled Mr. Dupin, there would be no way for Holmes to deduce that after Mr. Smith shot Mrs. Baker he decided to watch two hours of infomercial because he was bored and felt like it.
Perhaps these are bad examples - I'm sure that plenty of people did meaningless things then as well. However, (I could be wrong) it seems unlikely to me that there was even half of the different distractions and amusements that we have now - and all this, I wager, would make it nearly impossible for Holmes to successfully track our daily routines. We have no regularity. Not just family to family, person to person, but even to some extent with each individual. Did you do today precisely what you did yesterday? Do you wash on Mondays and iron on Tuesdays? I certainly don't. I do what I need to when I need to and what I want when I want to. When your profession depends on the regularities and commonness of others, you cannot afford their tardiness (nor their sloppiness, laziness or purposelessness).
On the other hand...
I could be looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps it was Sir Arthur's fault - perhaps his books poorly reflect the reality of the average Londoner and his habits. I truly hope that this were not the case, for if it were, then Holmes never could exist, in America or elsewhere.
And then again, it may well be that I do Holmes little justice - I may be underestimating his powers of logic.
Unfortunately, I fear that there is no sure way to ever know...
 |
| PERPLEXED BY IRREGULARITY |
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