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enemyofperfectFor fanfic purposes, of course -- fanfic reading, in this case. The third installment of violsva's awesome Sherlock Holmes series The Landlady was out, and I had so much fun comparing the first two with the original canon, I thought I'd refresh my memory first this time.
This led to two realizations!
The first is that my memory for books I read when I was a kid is pretty terrible.
A thing I'd totally forgotten: How amazingly, phenomenally head over heels Watson is for Mary Morstan. It's somewhere between sweet and profoundly alarming. I have this image in my head where she's like, "What a high pedestal this is you've set me on! Do you think perhaps I might come down?" And he's all like, "Alas that my poor ears are unworthy to hear the dulcet tones of such an angel, for surely I would grant her anything, if only her wishes could somehow be made known to me!" And then he puts the back of his hand to his forehead to better contemplate the tragedy of his plight.
A thing I was probably happier forgetting: The staggering racism. There might be something worth saying about the different levels and degrees of it -- Small's co-conspirators get better, or at least different, treatment than his later partner in crime does -- but I'm pretty sure I'm not the person to do the saying. Wow, though. It's just... right out there in the open, isn't it?
The one thing I did remember with perfect clarity: Watson and Holmes cracking the hell up when the dog leads them to an entire barrel of creosote instead of their creosote-scented target.
Which is probably a pretty accurate snapshot of what I did and did not get out of Sherlock Holmes as a kid, yeah.
And as an adult? Given that my second realization is that I findviolsva's fic rather more enjoyable than I do Arthur Conan Doyle's stories, it appears that what I now get out of Sherlock Holmes is background for appreciating excellent fanfic.
violsva's awesome Sherlock Holmes series The Landlady was out, and I had so much fun comparing the first two with the original canon, I thought I'd refresh my memory first this time.This led to two realizations!
The first is that my memory for books I read when I was a kid is pretty terrible.
A thing I'd totally forgotten: How amazingly, phenomenally head over heels Watson is for Mary Morstan. It's somewhere between sweet and profoundly alarming. I have this image in my head where she's like, "What a high pedestal this is you've set me on! Do you think perhaps I might come down?" And he's all like, "Alas that my poor ears are unworthy to hear the dulcet tones of such an angel, for surely I would grant her anything, if only her wishes could somehow be made known to me!" And then he puts the back of his hand to his forehead to better contemplate the tragedy of his plight.
A thing I was probably happier forgetting: The staggering racism. There might be something worth saying about the different levels and degrees of it -- Small's co-conspirators get better, or at least different, treatment than his later partner in crime does -- but I'm pretty sure I'm not the person to do the saying. Wow, though. It's just... right out there in the open, isn't it?
The one thing I did remember with perfect clarity: Watson and Holmes cracking the hell up when the dog leads them to an entire barrel of creosote instead of their creosote-scented target.
Which is probably a pretty accurate snapshot of what I did and did not get out of Sherlock Holmes as a kid, yeah.
And as an adult? Given that my second realization is that I find
violsva's fic rather more enjoyable than I do Arthur Conan Doyle's stories, it appears that what I now get out of Sherlock Holmes is background for appreciating excellent fanfic.
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Date: 2013-06-03 05:43 am (UTC)But yes, thank you for writing it! I love Jane and Mary so much. And Sherlock too, of course!
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Date: 2013-06-04 04:07 am (UTC)