"I do not wish to be ungrateful to Holmes, who has been a good friend to me in many ways. If I have sometimes been inclined to weary of him it is because his character admits of no light or shade. He is a calculating machine, and anything you add to that simply weakens the effect. Thus the variety of the stories must depend upon the romance and compact handling of the plots. I would say a word for Watson also, who in the course of seven volumes never shows one gleam of humour or makes one single joke."--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Memories & Adventures
The photo above is, of course, a mash-up. I did it awhile back (items out of copyright, thankfully) as a visual representation of how Doyle, Holmes and Watson live together in my head. As I've said before, only Holmes and Watson lived there for many years as my life was only Sherlockian. Now it is Doylean as well. Most of the time, the three fellows have a pleasant cohabitation, although it is sometimes disturbed by small things, like some family interactions are.
If Doyle were here right now, I would defend Holmes and Watson against the statement I've quoted above. If Holmes threw no light or shade, the vast--vast almost to the point of immeasurable--world of Sherlockiana would not exist. There is an army of Watsonians (of which I am part) ready to defend the good doctor against a ridiculous charge of being humorless; an Army also ready to defend the idea Holmes, as we know him, could not exist without Watson. And if Doyle were here right now, I would give him an earful about the interview where he said "I get letters addressed to his rather stupid friend, Watson,..." Rather stupid friend, indeed.
The old Doyle words from above are well-known, long talked about, sometimes forgotten. I don't hold them against Doyle. My respect for the man's work goes far beyond a few statements I might disagree with. I am grateful for the chance to live in his world in a small way; his writings are a big part of my life. I am especially grateful for the chance to write fiction with his characters. I've always mostly assumed the greater Sherlockian world felt the same way: for better or worse, Doyle is the respected founder and we are thankful for him.
You can imagine my surprise, then, when recently a Sherlockian fiction writer let me know, in no uncertain terms, how little he thought of Doyle; he told me he had no respect for Sir Arthur because of several things we know about Doyle's personal life and some of his words, including the "rather stupid friend" remark. Of course the writer is perfectly entitled to his opinions. The exchange reminded me I should not make assumptions about "the greater Sherlockian world."
I've thought about the conversation quite a few times. I've realized Dr. Watson is so real in the writer's mind, Doyle's ugly words are seemingly about a real person; Doyle is dissing the writer's good friend. Sometimes playing the Sherlockian game results in blurry boundaries. Doyle's choices were his own, too, and I'm not able to hold any of them against him: he had his life to live in his own way in a far different time.
In today's world we hear of cancel culture, and sometimes in the Sherlockian community, we are challenged to either accept a flawed human and all their foibles in order to have access to that human's Sherlockian work or to let the human and the work go. The lines can get very blurry then as well. I don't even pretend to have the answers. Sometimes I choose the flawed human, sometimes I choose the letting go. My instincts tell me which is best for me at the time; I seem to just know. It is as Sherlock Holmes said,
"It was easier to know it than to explain why I know it. If you were asked to prove that two and two made four, you might find some difficulty, and yet you are quite sure of the fact."
I can't believe the words of Sherlock Holmes, using them at times as part of my moral compass, and yet not have respect for Doyle. They are his words, too, after all. And I'm grateful for them.
