Tag: Canon Holmes

bakerstreetbabes:

thenorwoodbuilder:

More statistical spree: Sherlock Holmes, the Equalizer

So, after my latest incursion into self-made canonical statistics, here I am again, to vex you with other figures and pie-charts: apologies!

But I thought that there were other data really worth noticing: the number of cases in which canonical Sherlock Holmes takes justice in his hands… to save a culprit or, at least, someone from the risk of undergoing a criminal proceeding (either because he believes the person innocent, or because he thinks they’d get a disproportionately severe sanction).

About the topic of Holmes playing with the law, people tend to mostly notice his INFRACTIONS – that is, the crimes he decides to commit to serve what he believes to be the best interest of his clients, and of justice – such as, for instance, the housebreaking in CHAS, the breaking and entering in BRUC or LADY, and so on. This is, of course, a frequent occurrence enough, as I myself noticed in a previous statistical post, and an interesting fact.
But even more interesting may be the fact that, of all these offences commited by Holmes, a good 38% is (or is akin to) aiding and abetting – which leads us to the topic at hand.

Several readers and scholars of the Canon have noticed – and are often attracted to – the ‘superhuman’ aspects of the Sherlock Holmes character – not only his intellectual brilliance, but, for instance, his incredible (for such a slender, even skinny, man) strenght (he bends an iron pocket with his bare hands in SPEC), or his cat-like ability to see into darkness (CHAS). Umberto Eco even compares him to the Count of Montecristo, with whom Holmes certainly shares the great ability at disguising himself, and – according to Eco – the attitude for taking justice into his hands, to achieve what law and tribunals could not.

But here, I think, we find the great difference, not only between these two fictional characters, but between Holmes and many other epigones of his, both in detective stories and amongst other fictional popular characters: Holmes is NOT an avenger, on the whole.

Yes, he shares the idea that crimes must be punished, that culprits must ‘pay’ for their deeds; he is a child of his age and have no objections, for instance, to death penalty, nor to the mainly retributivist ideology which characterized the Victorian criminal system (and still affects the majority of contemporary criminal systems).
And yet, he is more human, and more modern, under many respects, than that system, than his society: he is capable, for instance, of letting a confessed – and quite vile – criminal go, in BLUE, because he is aware that “sending him to jail would make him a jail-bird for life”, and this is not what he thinks would be justice’s and society’s best interest.

And if it’s true that Holmes appoints himself judge and jury in a good 25% of canonical stories, it’s also true that only once – in IDEN – he does so to personally inflict punishment on a culprit he knows the law could hardly reach. But even in that case, all he does is to threaten, to scare the rascal: he actually DOES NOT exact proper punishment.

(And, no, other cases, such as CHAS, don’t qualify, either: here Holmes break the law a first time in order to rob Milverton, not to punish him, but to save his client’s reputation; and when he DOES actually take justice in his hands, it is to ‘acquit’ and save from the police the woman who killed the blackmailer.)

All the other times – 13 cases on a total of 14, the 93% of times – the self-appointed judge and jury Sherlock Holmes takes justice in his hands in order to save a culprit or, at least, to remove somone from risking a criminal proceeding whose outcome could be uncertain and, in case, disproportionate (such as with Mr. Croker in ABBE, for instance). Sometimes Holmes does so in order to avoid a scandal which would involve also innocent people (in PRIO, for instance, we may imagine that he considered also the situation of the little Lord Saltire, an innocent child who would have suffered from the scandal, had his father’s role been publicly revealed by Holmes); some other times, because he thinks the punishment, as provided by the law and/or foreseeable after a trial, disproportionately severe; and other factors, too, influence Holmes’ decisions, such as human compassion and empathy, the consideration of the sufferings already endured by the culprit, and/or of the useful work he could still perform (and by which he could better atone than by rotting in a prison cell: see DEVI, for instance), the idea that some human facts and sentiments could never be fairly weighted out in a tribunal – and so on.

Thus, all things considered, Sherlock Holmes, ‘father’ of so many following detectives and ‘equalizers’ of all sorts, stands up as a mostly ATYPICAL literary figure: not so much a righteous avenger, as, instead, mainly – and chivalrously – a protector of the weakest ones, be them victims OR culprits.

And this, I think, is another facet of him being the champion of the light of reason against the darkness of ignorance and prejudice, and one of the things that make Sherlock Holmes an everlasting lovable and beloved character, and a model as well.

This is bloody fierce.

kittkin:

lookatallthelovelyfandoms:

Arthur Conan Doyle: Trying to see how little fucks he can give about a series of books before people start to notice. 

I’ve seen this going around a few times, and while I can’t deny that ACD gave absolutely zero fucks sometimes, this is still sort of inaccurate. And kind of unfair to Holmes. I just wanted to fix it a bit.

  • First, Holmes didn’t hit a ledge by accident. He and Moriarty grappled on the cliff, and then he used his knowledge of baritsu (which is totally made up and a great example of how ACD just fucked around, but which most agree is sort of like judo) to overbalance him and toss him over. He never fell, and even says as much to Watson. “Well, then, about that chasm. I had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason that I never was in it.”
  • After he pitches Moriarty off a cliff, he has his moment of clarity, and explains his reasons for faking his death as follows: “It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor had disappeared, it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky chance Fate had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not the only man who had sworn my death. There were at least three others whose desire for vengeance upon me would only be increased by the death of their leader. They were all most dangerous men. One or other would certainly get me. On the other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead they would take liberties, these men, they would soon lay themselves open, and sooner or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time for me to announce that I was still in the land of the living. So rapidly does the brain act that I believe I had thought this all out before Professor Moriarty had reached the bottom of the Reichenbach Fall.”
  • So, basically, he was playing a long game, and avoiding attempted assassination. This fear was totally founded, because immediately after that Moran shows up and tries to kill him by pitching rocks down the cliff face at him. He barely escapes.
  • He stays away until he eliminates two of the three men, and does some other work in Europe and Asia. But he legitimately fears going back to London, because Moran is there and knows he’s alive.
  • The main reason he can come back even at the start of the Empty House is because Moran has committed a murder and he can put him away. Before that, both Moriarty and Moran have fooled everyone into thinking they’re upstanding citizens. Moriarty’s brother even defends him after his death.

I’m not saying Holmes wasn’t a total bastard about it. He doesn’t tell Watson he’s alive because he’s afraid he’ll ruin his plans, which is just awful, and he actually has the audacity to make snarky comments about how Watson and the Swiss police formed their conclusions about his death. You can’t read “I had no idea that you would be so affected” without wanting to strangle him.

He didn’t stay away just because he felt like it, though. He’s a completely dismissive prick about the whole thing, sure, but he spent three years on the lam so he didn’t put himself or anyone else in danger.

The whole thing about the two wives and Watson’s name change is 100% true, though. And don’t ever look into Doyle’s timeline, ever.