The Well-Read Sherlockian

Before we get started, a little administrative note:

In an ideal world, I prefer to write 2-3 reviews for this blog per month. However,  for the foreseeable future, I’ll probably be limiting my posting speed to one book per month.The reasons for this are threefold: first, summer break is fast upon us, it’s difficult to concentrate when kids are constantly underfoot and I am, after all, “Mommy.”  Second, although this is a blog about pastiche, I have recently found myself fascinated by several Sherlock Holmes-related nonfiction topics which I think you will also enjoy–but for which the books are quite a bit denser and therefore take longer to review adequately. Today’s book is an example of this. Finally, I am working on a large project which will end up taking a fair amount of time and effort…but which will (hopefully) pay off in more (and better) reviews later on. So, basically, I’m still here, still reviewing, nothing bad has happened, and I hope you like the next few books!

Honestly, woman! Stop blathering and get on with it.

If you spend much time at all with Sherlock Holmes, you tend to pick up random details about his chronicler’s–er–literary agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.** Much of this occurs by osmosis. A foreword here, a Facebook post or tweet there, annotations, blog posts, and footnotes.  Before this book, I’d only read one other Conan Doyle biography: Alistair Duncan’s excellent  An Entirely New Country, which covers the writer’s decade or so at Undershaw.*** Like most Sherlockians, I had a fairly good idea of some of the more important details of his life–his early years as a doctor, his marriages, his eventual obsession with spiritualism–but I knew I needed more background. It was time to go “womb to tomb.”

There are quite a few fairly current biographies of Conan Doyle to choose from, as well as some older works and his own autobiography, Memories and Adventures, first published in 1923.  Some were written by people well-known in the Sherlockian/Holmesian world. Mr. Lycett, however, is not one of these. He began his career as a foreign correspondent for The Times, covering events in Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. His other books include biographies of the late Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi (written with fellow reporter, the late David Blundy);  Ian Fleming, Rudyard Kipling, and Dylan Thomas (as well as one on Wilkie Collins, out this fall).   It was as Lycett was researching the Kipling book that he first became interested in Doyle, and through his Fleming bio that he was able to establish his credibility with Jon Lellenberg, BSI and thereby secure an introduction to Sir Arthur’s heirs.   What happened next he describes in a detailed “Afterword,” and it will not surprise anyone with even the slightest knowledge of the continual controversy surrounding the Conan Doyle estate.

In Through the Magic Door, Sir Arthur wrote that an “ideal biographer should be a perfectly impartial man, with a sympathetic mind, but a stern determination to tell the absolute truth.” Lycett quotes this (and more) in an epigraph. While it is probably impossible to know if he’s told the “absolute truth,” Lycett seems to have done his best to be impartial. The Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle who emerges from these pages is nothing if not a full human being, with all of the contradictions that implies.  Let’s examine a few of those, shall we?

The one that Sherlockians are probably most familiar with is the seeming dichotomy between Conan Doyle the creator of Sherlock Holmes, and Conan Doyle the spiritualist and believer in fairies.  Raised a Catholic, Conan Doyle had difficulties with established religion from an early age. From the first seance he attended with friends in January of 1887, spiritualism fascinated him, as it did many people trying to reconcile their religious beliefs with the science that challenged them. While Victorian spiritualism began with such simple communication techniques as table tipping and ouija boards, as the twentieth century approached, new  technology such as photography, x-rays, electrical gadgetry and recording devices led Arthur and others to believe that  they were just one big revelation away from proving the existence of the afterlife and obtaining eyewitness accounts that went beyond the jewel-encrusted vision of St John. For the first time in 2,000 years, they would, in effect, talk to God–and He would have to talk back.†

The Great War made this need all the more urgent. While the British (and other European nations) had been losing soldiers to various hostilities (the Crimea, the two Boer Wars, etc.) for over a century, the scale of this conflict and the brutality of the new warfare was unprecedented. It’s possible that no household was left unscathed, either by the war itself or by Spanish Flu, which ravaged the globe directly on its heels. The Conan Doyle family lost friends, nephews,  Jean’s brother Malcolm, Arthur’s beloved younger brother Innes, and his oldest son, Kingsley (the latter two both succumbing to influenza).  It’s not unusual for personal loss to push normally earthbound  people into at least one attempt to contact their loved ones; around this time, spiritualism attracted many new believers while some who had hovered on the skeptical fringes, such as Conan Doyle, decided to openly convert. Even in his days as a researcher (and member of the SPR), however,   Arthur was never, as Lycett shows us, the rigourous debunker he may have imagined himself to be; his need to prove was consistently stronger than his need to be sure. It is no wonder, in the end, that he espoused spiritualism zealously. What’s actually fascinating is that he shared so few personal traits with the character he brought to life.

Sir Arthur also was a man of intense contradiction when it came to his family and friends. He was, by all accounts, a very good friend–loyal and quite generous with both his time and money. Even his friendship with magician and psychic debunker, Harry Houdini, which famously came to an acrimonious end, did so due to Doyle’s innocent belief that Houdini was unaware of his own supernatural powers, and that Lady Jean Doyle had actually contacted the magician’s mother during an automatic writing session. The magician’s public rejection of this last left Doyle both confused and hurt, and Lycett covers their protracted argument thoroughly.

As a family man, Arthur was also loyal and generous…in his way. As the eldest son in a family in which the father was crippled by alcoholism, he eventually took on the role of provider; for most of his adult life, he subsidized his mother and sisters, including one who had married a poor clergyman.  Although finances typically complicate family matters, by and large he seems to have taken this responsibility in stride. Always a social man, he enjoyed visiting family, and frequently had them as long-term guests in his home. His correspondence with his mother, full of his confidences and her advice, is both voluminous and legendary.

The extended Doyle family. ACD is in the back, Louise is seated to his right, next to “Mam.” Kingsley and Mary are standing between their parents.

When it came to his immediate family, however, it seems that he stumbled. Conan Doyle’s relationship with Jean Leckie, conducted while his first wife, Louise, was ill with the tuberculosis which eventually killed her, is common knowledge, and Lycett covers it with the fairness and detail one would expect. There are no shocking revelations here. What I found most interesting were the brief accounts of Arthur’s first marriage, and a better understanding of his second, with Jean. There seems no doubt that he loved both women–in his own fashion.  For Louise, of course, there were lengthy trips to salubrious climates after her 1893 diagnosis, as well as Undershaw–the home he built with her health in mind. Yet for the most part in their marriage (what little we can know of it, as Jean seems to have rid the family papers of most references to her predecessor), it seems that Louise remained perpetually in her husband’s shadow and dependent on his inclinations. Lycett recounts one telling example: When, in anticipation of the winter weather and its effects on her health, Louise wanted to go back to spend the season in Egypt, Arthur denied her request on the grounds (as he told his brother Innes) that he found it impossible to write there.††  Even Jean,  who seems to have played “Rachel” to Louise’s “Leah,” found that, once she finally became Lady Doyle, she was often relegated to the background. Readers who wonder why Jean took up automatic writing and channeled a “spirit guide” when she had always disapproved of her husband’s spiritualist activities will wonder no longer when they realize that these easy-to-feign abilities gained Arthur’s attention, praise, and also convinced him to finance a cottage and home improvements.††† Doyle’s failures as a father are also well-known, and receive what seems to be objective treatment here, although Lycett fails to make the obvious point that, given his own boyhood, Arthur may not have really known how to be present for his children. What I came away with, in the end, was a picture of a family in which, while it is clear that he loved them, Sir Arthur’s own goals, desires, and needs of the moment were nearly always paramount.

Arthur and Jean with Denis, Adrian, and Lena Jean. This photo was used as a frontispiece for “Pheneas Speaks,” supposedly containing words of wisdom from Jean’s spirit guide.

Many of those goals, needs, and desires centered on writing. Given Conan Doyle’s publishing savvy, his prolificity, and his ability to create profitable work on demand,  I must confess that I had a view of him as a writer who just churned out stuff to make a living. This was unfair. Arthur may have said that the title he valued most was that of “Doctor,” but medicine wasn’t ever his vocation. The man needed to write, it was the core of his being, and Lycett does his best to keep up with him. For the casual reader, just looking for a nice overview of the author of The Lost World or those popular detective stories, he’s adequate.  For Sherlock Holmes fans, however, Lycett falls short. This was particularly evident to me in his treatment of the creation of The Hound of the Baskervilles, the William Gillette play “Sherlock Holmes,” and the lead-up to the publication of “The Empty House.”‡  What you will find fascinating, however, is the way Conan Doyle’s life bleeds into his writing.  If you write yourself, you’ll know this happens, but it’s fun to see Lycett pop up example after example. Many involve names, but others are fairly obvious attempts to resolve, however subconsciously, the concerns Arthur is facing at the time. In the case of his father, this is touching; in the case of his relationships with Louise and Jean, maybe not so much. Readers may also find that Lycett occasionally stretches too far to find psychological meaning where Doyle may have just been trying to write a good story. Sometimes a leather funnel is just a leather funnel.

Over the years, I’ve become convinced that, when it comes to biography, your first choice matters. Without any other source to measure them against, those first facts become cemented in your mind; you imprint on them like a duckling, and what you take in from that first reading can be difficult to dislodge. If you’re looking for a thorough, painstakingly researched overview of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s life, I can definitely recommend Lycett’s book. For all that I stumbled over the cricket descriptions (when it comes to Doyle, cricket is inevitable), and the unfamiliar British politics,  I came away with a sense of the man as–not a Watson, not a plaster saint, and not always as he saw himself–but as a  complicated human being who can’t be summed up in a few sentences, 2100 words, or twenty-one chapters. This is, paradoxically, what good biography does. In bringing his subject back to life, as it were, Lycett avoids falling into the trap of making Doyle’s life completely comprehensible, centered around clear themes, the way we might wish life would be. Instead, he shows a man who doesn’t always know what he is doing, who doesn’t know what it all means (even when he thinks he does), and who is just trying to do the best he can–even when he gets it wrong. It’s a disquieting portrait occasionally, but also comforting, because we’re all in the same kind of boat, aren’t we?  And if one of us was bold enough to throw away a certain future of ascultation and prescriptions to take his boat on a crazy chase up the Thames, well, we’re all the richer for it.

The Man Who Created Sherlock Holmes is available in both print and ebook form, and from online and bricks-and-mortar booksellers.  You can find Andrew Lycett’s website here: http://www.andrewlycett.co.uk, and you can follow him on Twitter at @alycett1 .

What do you look for in a biography? What intrigues you about Conan Doyle’s life?  First commenter wins a paperback copy of today’s book!

Footnotes:

*Originally published in the UK by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2007.

**Also known as Dr. John Watson’s literary agent, by those who play The Game.

***You can find my review of this book here:

http://wellreadsherlockian.com/2012/03/19/duncan-alistair-an-entirely-new-country-arthur-conan-doyle-undershaw-and-the-resurrection-of-sherlock-holmes-london-mx-2011

…and an interview with Mr. Duncan here: http://wellreadsherlockian.com/2012/04/24/ten-questions-with-alistair-duncan

Information about the efforts to preserve Undershaw may be found here: http://www.saveundershaw.com/.

I also got the term “womb to tomb” from Mr. Duncan, but he says he did not originate it.

†Try as I might, I can’t escape the image of the Tower of Babel here, but that’s probably just me.

†† Lycett, p. 263. If you read further, you realize that ACD’s real motive for refusing Louise was that he wanted to travel to South Africa to fulfill his ambition to participate in a military conflict–and to write about it.

†††While Lycett’s book did nothing to change my firm position on Team Louise (and probably cemented it, frankly), I have to say that he softened my  view of Jean Leckie, at least post-marriage.

‡For an in-depth play-by-play description of these, see Alistair Duncan’s An Entirely New Country.

Throughout literature, we’re constantly warned of the dangers inherent in revisiting the past.  ”You can’t go home again,” Thomas Wolfe admonishes us.  ”Do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these,’  King Solomon writes in Ecclesiastes, adding ‘For it is not wise to ask such questions.’” And finally, from another Canon, Victor Trevor’s father has this bit of wisdom: “Of all ghosts, the ghosts of our old lovers are the worst.”*  Bill Kirtland would argue that he wasn’t trying to do any of these things. After all, his old lover has become a (celibate) Daughter of St. Augustine, and he himself has made the shift from Army intelligence to life as a private detective. They’re both happy in their current lives; he simply wanted to pay her a friendly visit. Too bad that visit was to Erin, Ohio.

Walther PPKS .380′s don’t kill people…

…picturesque Ohio college towns kill people.

Poor Bill Kirtland! Like several other recent visitors to St. Benignus’ home, he ends up dead. Not only dead, but murdered. And not only murdered, but gunned down outside Erin’s new community theatre, The Lyceum, just as a new Sherlock Holmes play, “1895,” premieres.

Or perhaps that was his lucky break. In any other town, his murder may have gone unsolved. But, as with the hundreds fortunate enough to die in the vicinities of Cabot Cove or St. Mary Meade, Bill Kirtland died in the hometown of an amateur detective and his sidekick. Sebastian McCabe is on the case!*

Kind of. Actually, what with the play (which he wrote, and in which he portrays Mycroft) and all, McCabe doesn’t have  a lot of time to go running around questioning suspects and re-tracing the victim’s footsteps. He ends up, therefore, relying on his brother-in-law, Jeff Cody, to do his legwork for him. After all, it’s not like Cody–who has a wedding coming up in mere weeks and inlaws-to-be to entertain–has anything better to do, right? The fact that the ex-girlfriend Kirtland had come to see is none other than his fiancée’s good friend and maid-of-honor, Mary Margaret (Polly) Malone kind of cinches the deal. Can Cody–a failed mystery novelist–prove cleverer than his hardboiled hero and his larger-than-life Sherlockian BIL and clear Polly Malone’s protegé? Can he survive meeting in-laws for whom divorce, however bitter, is not the final word?  Can he survive, period?

In the year or so that I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve reviewed three of Andriacco’s Jeff Cody mysteries. They are, honestly, enjoyable palate-cleansers between Serious Sherlockian Novels Requiring Canon Searches. Each Cody/McCabe book has an aspect that stands out for me. No Police Like Holmes, for example, has humorous send-ups of some of the quirky people you might find in your local scion society. Holme Sweet Holmes sees Jeff Cody grow as both a character and an individual–someone who is able to overcome his little neuroticisms and jealousies to be both a better boyfriend and detective.   In The 1895 Murder, we have the same entertaining characters and (for Jeff) ridiculously uncomfortable situations, but we also have something new–an oddly bleak mystery.

Whodunit stories are, for the most part, puzzles with a point. As readers, we know to look for “motive, means, and opportunity.” And once you (or the detective) can suss out the motive, the whole plot makes sense and you can see that the murder was only the culmination of a long line of reasonable actions and reactions, a line of immoral dominoes tipped with one inciting act. When the villain is finally led away in handcuffs (or shot, or conveniently lost at sea), there is a sad sense of inevitability to the whole thing; from the first page, it could never have been otherwise. In this sense, the best mysteries are also tragedies.

In real life, however, most crimes are not tragedies so much as they are tragic. In real life, horrible things happen to innocent people who just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s no romantic affair, no stolen military plans, no secret pact over jewelry–only a random encounter with evil. It would be inaccurate for me to describe The 1895 Murder as  ”dark”–Andriacco writes with a light, humor-filled touch and his books are firmly at the cozy end of the spectrum.  But just as Holmes admonishes Watson that the bucolic landscapes flashing  past the window of their train car can hide the most disturbing scenarios, so Cody’s latest adventure gently reminds us that justice is not as easily attained as we might want–and we must celebrate the good things in life and laugh at ourselves, regardless.

The 1895 Murder is the most smoothly-plotted and written Cody/McCabe mystery yet. Mr. Andriacco plays fair with the reader, but his clues are deftly hidden, much as Sebastian McCabe hides the secrets to his magic tricks under an entertaining run of palaver. Jeff Cody’s stream-of-consciousness narration is amusing as always, and still more revealing than he might wish.**  Despite the title, there is less of Sherlock Holmes in this book than in its predecessors, which was a little disappointing–but at the same time understandable. A good series author knows that his success relies more in plot and character than it does in a gimmick. Lynda Teal’s parents–or, rather, her mother–was a bit unbelievable, but the “drama” she brought with her made me willing to play along. Heaven knows quite a few of us might wish the family issues that surrounded our weddings were as entertaining!***

If you’re like me, you’re probably getting a bit sick of continual reruns of “In The Bleak Midwinter,” when we should at least have a few crocuses up in the yard.  If your bookshelf looks just as dreary, let Cody and McCabe provide a nice (albeit bloody) splash of humor and adventure to a cold “spring” afternoon.

The 1895 Murder and all of Dan Andriacco’s Cody/McCabe Mysteries are available in both print and ebook form, from your regular online bookseller, or direct from MX Publishing–along with a book of Sherlockian essays and two traditional short pastiches featuring The Great Detective.  Mr. Andriacco has an author page on Facebook, a Twitter feed, and a blog, which you can find at http://bakerstreetbeat.blogspot.com.

Star Rating: 4 out of 5: “Well worth your time and money.”

Footnotes:

*Cabot Cove, Maine, is the home of mystery writer/amateur detective Jessica Fletcher, portrayed by Angela Lansbury in the long-running program, “Murder, She Wrote.”  St. Mary Meade is the lovely English village Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple calls home.  Both towns have suspiciously high murder rates, when figured per capita.  It makes one wonder….

**Jeff Cody is, as always, a man who never lets a woman go by unappreciated, shall we say. Never. Ever. At one point, I even asked my husband, “Guys don’t all think like this, do they?”  He said “No,” in that special way that actually means, “Yes, definitely.”   Oy.

***If I say any more, I’ll pay for it the rest of my life. Trust me on this.

Work with me here!

Ah, Spring! When, as the poet says, “a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.”* Yes, dear reader, this book features a Holmesian Hook-up, so if the idea of Sherlock Holmes kissing a woman for reasons other than obtaining information on blackmailers disturbs you, you might want to wait until the next review. Romantics–follow me!

As my kids say: “Ewwwwwww!”

It’s May of 1903, and the staff of Larchbanks, a country house in Sussex, has recently suffered a tremendous loss. Sir Arthur Fallowes, a Royal Army Major who had seen service in India, has passed away of a lung ailment, leaving behind no relation but a niece, who herself may have perished in the Boxer Rebellion.**  Being a kind-hearted man, the Major has stipulated in his will that his housekeeper (and through her insistence to his solicitor, the entire staff) will remain employed at the house for six months after his death. The house may be let during that period, while efforts are made to locate the niece or perhaps her biological child, but afterwards Larchbanks and its contents can be sold.

Major Fallowes’ cherished housekeeper is one Charlotte Dodson, a widow in her thirties with an eleven year-old son whom she has managed to send to a decent boarding school (keeping him conveniently offscreen for most of the story).  A vicar’s daughter and later, with her husband, the owner of a school, Mrs. Dodson is intelligent, self-contained, hard-working, and highly disciplined. She is also lonely. One of her previous tasks had been to help the Major  (suffering slightly from dementia) write and edit his memoirs, which provided her with both an intellectual outlet and some companionship. Now, with her employer gone, and just reaching the point of widowhood in which she’s looking more towards her future than her past, she feels her isolation more keenly. Although she views the other Larchbanks women as family, Violet and Rose are young and flighty, while Mrs. Clithoe, the cook, is older and…rather formidable. Nor has she found a kindred spirit among women in the nearby village; in fact several, such as the vicar’s sister, Miss Hanover, regard her with a sort of jealous hostility.

But Mrs. Dodson (let’s call her “Charlotte,” now) squares her shoulders and carries on. The Major has left her a legacy in the form of his library (books and furniture), which she can keep or sell. This will help her keep her son in school at least a while longer, and support her while she seeks another position.  She isn’t thrilled by her new solitary life, but she accepts it with grace.  In the meantime, she hopes Major Fallowes’ solicitor, William Bagshaw, will find a tenant who is not too horrible, and that she can disabuse Violet of her notion that London is the place to be. The girl is rather too enamoured with sensational newspaper stories of escaped criminals, exploding Sussex houses, and even a suspected vampire victim.

Her first hope is dashed by Chapter Three. The new tenant of Larchbanks is one Mr. Sigerson, a man who does not make a good first impression. He’s all wrapped up in a scarf, for example, as if he were an invalid. He isn’t all that interested in the house’s architectural features (with the exception of the priest’s hole), and his simultaneously proprietary and dismissive view of Charlotte’s beloved library rankles her. Nor is she happy to hear that he had specified a place with minimal staff and no children.***  Still, he doesn’t have a great deal of time to play house hunter,† and soon he is subjecting the household to his eccentric ways, his peculiar personality, and his bees.

Watch where you put those bees, Holmes!

Still, for all of his strangeness, there is something a little…fascinating about Mr. Sigerson. Charlotte finds herself drawn to him almost as much as she wants to strangle him. And while the new tenant wanted to be live as isolated and secretive an existence as possible (he works late, sees to his bees very early, and tries never to leave the house during the main hours of the day), he is also someone who needs to bounce his ideas off of an intelligent listener; he’s happy enough to do this with “Dodson.”  The chemistry that develops between them is a surprise only to the participants.††

Fortunately for community morals, however, both Holmes and Dodson have other very pressing concerns to keep them busy. There’s the strange behavior of the new curate, for example. And why did Harold Bagshaw–the solicitor’s nephew, who nurtures an infatuation for Charlotte–try to steal an important letter from her?  Is there a real Sussex Vampire after all? Two suspicious deaths make for a reporters’ feeding frenzy and really, given the two marks on her neck, how else could Miss Hanover have died? Add to this the Orb of Kezir: an Indian treasure Major Fallowes has bequeathed to Charlotte yet, in his dotage, neglected to say where he’d hidden it.†††  For Charlotte, of course, there’s the additional mystery of Mr. Sigerson’s sometimes odd, even sinister behavior.  Could he be responsible for the murders? And why is he so…anxious?

The Affair of the Incognito Tenant belongs, ultimately, to that mystery subgenre known as the “cozy.”  These stories tend to be calmer, without the violence, sex, bad language, gore, or amped-up suspense one finds in darker works. Cozies also often feature a smaller setting (rural village, seaside resort, manor house), an amateur detective (in this case, Charlotte Dodson), quirky characters (Mrs. Clithoe with her noisy tantrums or “spasms” fills the bill here), and a smattering of amusing incidents. Villains are, of course, bad people, but the full horror of their evil tends not to be fully explored. Charlotte and her strange employer face several miscreants, in fact–two of whom have the potential to be very frightening–but, following in the cozy tradition, they are mostly just unpleasant.

In her acknowledgements, Ms. Roberts writes that she worked on The Incognito Tenant (in various versions) for fifteen years.  While obviously most of us would like to finish our novels a little faster, in this case, the time was well-spent.  The characters are nicely drawn individuals. Holmes is recognizable, if in a slightly softer incarnation, and Watson is the perceptive, helpful gentleman we know and love, even if he does accidentally blow Holmes’ cover. Charlotte Dodson is a very appealing character. Although she is given the apparently requisite deduction scene in which she is unimpressed with Holmes and does some tricks of her own, she does not, fortunately, become the “smarter-than-you” cliché. She is intelligent, dutiful, and a loving mother, but she can also be stodgy, rigid, and judgmental.  The fact that, every once in awhile, you can see a more passionate side carefully hidden away only serves to make her human.

The story itself is well-crafted. Although at times the various subplots make it seem a little cluttered, everything fits together in the end. The hidden jewel, the vampire hysteria, and a rather improbable weapon from an apprentice of von Herder may not appeal to everyone, but they’re all handled in the low-key fashion befitting a cozy.  If you’re looking for a true “puzzler,” The Incognito Tenant may be a little disappointing, as you will almost always know what is going on before Charlotte does, but hey–sometimes it’s nice to feel like The Great Detective!

There aren’t many canonical details to fuss about in this book. The chronology of the story, however, ends up being a bit troublesome. The Incognito Tenant begins in May, 1903, with the exact date unspecified. This is fortunate, as Baring-Gould sets “The Adventure of the Three Gables” in late May of 1903, at which point Holmes has vacated Larchbanks.  Since the story moves quickly (and a quick text search shows no results for “June”), this could work.‡ We then must face, however, the problem of Holmes’ retirement. Judging by events in The Incognito Tenant, he’s already living on the Sussex Downs, keeping bees and working on his magnum opus, a ”Practical Handbook of Bee Culture, With Some Hints on the Segregation of the Queen.”  Baring-Gould believes that Holmes retired in October or November of 1903–which is reasonable, as he is mentioned as being retired in “The Adventure of the Second Stain,”  published at the end of 1904. So! Is it possible to reconcile this discrepancy? Just possibly, if one believes that Holmes purchased his house in Sussex earlier than Baring-Gould believes (why he never bothered to check real estate transactions in the area is anyone’s guess) and, for awhile, divided his time between London and the more peaceful environment of the coast. Even after he fully retired, I do think it reasonable to assume that he kept the flat at 221B as a pied à terre  for occasional visits to London…and just in case his cottage was ever blown-up by criminals with grudges. I do have to say, however, that there was no reason that I can discern for setting the story in 1903. Or May, for that matter. Again going by Baring-Gould, stories set after Holmes’ retirement only need to account for “The Lion’s Mane” and “His Last Bow,” placing a huge swathe of time at the writer’s disposal. Sometimes, however, your original characters can be insistent on a particular date; I am grateful that, in this instance, the conflict was manageable.

Of course I realize that only a few of you care that desperately about dates. What many of you may be concerned about, however, is the whole question of the attraction between Holmes and Dodson. In fact, some of you may choose not to read the book based on this alone. Others, like me, may be tolerant of Sherlockian romance if it’s done well. So–is it?

I think so. Charlotte Dodson avoids, in my opinion at least, some of the major traps her pastiche sisters often fall into.  She is not a Mary Sue. Although she is bright, and reasons her way through several situations, she’s not showy, nor is she always correct. The author never has a scene in which she “puts Holmes in his place.” The best word I can think of to describe her is “mature.” Of all of the love interests authors have proposed for Holmes, Mrs. Dodson is, so far, probably the best fit I’ve seen: a woman who is more likely to be a true supportive helpmeet, rather than one who competes with his occupation, or tries to share it with him as co-detective. I suppose it is old-fashioned, but really, if your occupation requires you to run off to a client’s house at a moment’s notice, or to bury yourself in a case for days or weeks on end, someone needs to take care of the details of life. Charlotte Dodson could fill that role nicely. But will she? I agreed with Ms. Robert’s conclusion, but not really with the reasoning behind it. It would be interesting to know if you think the same.

The Affair of the Incognito Tenant is a  light, cozy mystery perfect for those looking for just a bit of fun and romance on a rainy day, and a book which bears up well on a second reading.  It may have taken Lora Roberts fifteen years to bring Charlotte Dodson to life, but I suspect fans of both Sherlock Holmes and the cozy will be glad she did.

Lora Roberts writes under several names: Lora Roberts, Lora Roberts Smith, and Lora R. Smith. She has written two other mystery series, one featuring Liz Sullivan, a freelance writer and amateur detective, and the other showcasing Bridget Montrose, who solves mysteries while raising three young children. You can find a little more about her here: http://www.loraroberts.net, but the link provided to her new blog will lead you to a page which has never been used.  The Affair of the Incognito Tenant is available on Amazon.com, both as a new paperback and in a Kindle version. It is not available from Barnes and Noble.

Star Rating: 4 out of 5:   “Well worth your time and money.”

Footnotes:

*It was Tennyson, and we often forget the “lightly.”

**The Boxer Rebellion was an anti-imperialist, anti-Christian uprising in China between 1898 and 1901.

See a fairly detailed discussion of it here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boxer_Rebellion

***Mr., erm, Sigerson has an excellent reason for this, but I don’t believe that Charlotte ever thinks it through.

†Sherlock Holmes/House Hunters crossover.  Please, someone, make this happen!

††It’s actually amazing that, in a house full of women, none of them notice–pretty much ever. Watson (when he finally shows) picks up on it instantly. This might give us a clue as to how self-absorbed or not-so-quick Charlotte’s coworkers are.

†††In the note he left her, it’s obvious that he believes he showed her the hiding place, but he did not; Charlotte believes that in remembering the incident, he confused her with his late sister.

‡Baring-Gould decided on May, for “The Adventure of the Three Gables” based on the time in which geraniums (mentioned in the story) are put out into beds, and the prevalence of pneumonia (Maberley’s cause of death) in the spring. He derives the year 1903 from the necessity of placing “The Adventure of the Red Circle” in 1901–when finger-printing began at Scotland Yard, and when Watson is living in Baker Street; putting “The Illustrious Client” in its given date of 1902; and his placing of  ”The Mazarin Stone” in the summer of 1903.  According to Watson, he hasn’t “seen Holmes ‘for some days’” (Baring-Gould, The Annotated Sherlock Holmes, 1967), leading Baring-Gould to place 3GAB betweem ILLU and MAZA, hence, May of 1903.  Make of this what you will!

John Watson has style. He has it in spades….

Part 4: Style

We might as well call this, “Other Stuff I Think About That Didn’t Fit Anywhere Else.” It’s a bit of a hodgepodge, but here goes…

“Just a few changes here and there….”

The Basics

No matter where you are in the publishing food chain–Big New York House, small independent, or self-pub, everyone seems to agree that editing isn’t what it was several decades ago. If you’re really fortunate, you’ll have an involved, talented editor who suggests improvements in your story, and an expert proofreader. Of course, if you have those things, you’re probably not reading these essays anyway. It’s much more likely that you’re expected to provide these services on your own, or close to it. Some people do an incredible job, but quite a few do not, and unfortunately, the ability to think up a fantastic story does not necessarily include the skills required to tell it well or present it professionally. Here are a few common mechanics issues I’ve seen:

Incorrect punctuation

The further you get from high school grammar, the harder it is to remember those pesky rules. I struggle to punctuate sentences going by how I think they should sound if read aloud, and end up with bewildering messes that would give my old English teachers fits. The informality of email, social media, and texting also leaves us out of practice. It’s probably a good idea, therefore, to give yourself a refresher course. You should also see if your publisher has a style sheet for guidance. If not, The Chicago Manual of Style is an invaluable help–and you can even find the basics in handy chart form.

Incorrect Usage

Because we don’t speak the way we should write, this is a common problem. Subject- verb agreement, using the wrong verb tense (or mixing tenses up), writing plurals or possessives incorrectly…all of these creep into our writing if we are not vigilant. Strunk and White’s venerable The Elements of Style is a succinct guide to avoiding these mistakes. Written by Cornell English professor William Strunk, and later revised by his one-time pupil, E. B. White (yes, of Charlotte’s Web fame), this book is both easy and entertaining to read, so don’t worry about dozing off the way you did during school grammar lessons.

Spelling/Typographical Errors

The ability to spell is, I am convinced, a talent all its own. You have it, or you don’t and, just like musical aptitude, not having it is no reflection on your intelligence. That being said, you gotta get it right. Fortunately, word processing programs can check for spelling errors, and tell you how you should have done it in the first place. They have their limitations, however:  they’ll sail blithely over incorrect words spelled correctly, such as “to” substituted for “too.”

It all comes down, therefore, to proofreading. Make a few passes on your own, being careful to give yourself a few hours’ break in between, as it’s amazing how much you’ll miss simply because you know what you meant to write. Then, hand out your manuscript to some willing friends or family members. They’ll be able to find even more errors, as well as sections in which you’re not as clear as you might be.* As stand-ins for your eventual thousands of readers, their services will prove invaluable: reward them accordingly. Can’t find anyone willing or able? Then I really would suggest biting the bullet and hiring a professional freelance editor. Changes in the publishing industry, as well as the difficulty of making a living from writing alone, mean that there are many skilled people out there. Check the Editorial Freelancers Association website  for a searchable directory.**

Finally. I know, I know, it’s tedious. It’s mind-numbingly tedious. To some, this focus on details may even seem “unartistic.” It’s crucial, however, both to telling your story effectively, and establishing your reputation as a competent, professional writer.  Look at your manuscript as a bit like a Seurat painting (the ones using pointillism). Those dots of paint weren’t dabbed on randomly. Instead, each is painstakingly placed, with a view towards the greater effect. When it comes to your book, every keystroke counts.

So, what is he putting Holmes up to this time?

Formatting

If you’re publishing on your own, either electronically or in print, or if you’re using a small publisher who leaves formatting up to you, make every effort to produce a book that looks just like it came from one of the Big Houses. I have absolutely no experience in electronic formatting, but from what I’ve heard, it can be challenging. Again, if you find yourself having difficulties, don’t hesitate either to hire someone, or to upgrade your self-publishing package. In the case of small publishers, remember: readability isn’t enough. Pay attention to margins, paragraph divisions, typeface, etc. Read up on desktop publishing and layout. Making the effort now could mean a difference in sales later.

It’s always good to know what you’re doing.

A Case of Identity

So, what are you writing, really?

There are plenty of articles and online discussion about the proper use of the word “pastiche.” Technically, a pastiche is a work written in the style of another author, as an homage to him or her. A parody would be the same–except it’s written to poke fun at the original artist, either to make a point, or just for laughs. So, to write a true Sherlock Holmes pastiche, you’re going to need to write as Watson.

“But what if I don’t sound like Watson?” you ask. Take heart. Perhaps you just need a little practice. If you really want to mimic the Watson voice, reading the canon over and over again may be enough to get you going–particularly if you read it just before you begin a writing session. Still, not all of us are good imitators, and people who love the Watson voice are remarkably sensitive to its quality or lack thereof. If this is true in your case then, rather than try and fail (and get called out on it in reviews), it’s probably best to tell your story from another point of view altogether. Perhaps you can use a variant of the third person, or write as another character, either from the canon or original. Remember, if you write as Watson, you have to take on his qualities and look at things through his eyes; it’s more than simply sounding like a Victorian writer. Sometimes, it’s actually useful to look at Holmes–or a case–from another perspective entirely.

Of course, once you do this you’re no longer writing a pastiche, really, although lots of us tend to just throw that word around, trading accuracy for convenience. No, what you’d be writing then might better be called Sherlockian or Holmesian fiction. But is it fan fiction?

Well, yes and no. Every fiction work featuring Sherlock Holmes as a character which was not written by Sir Arthur himself is, technically, fan fiction–fiction written by fans. Still, having read  tons of non-commercial Holmes stories on sites like Fanfiction.net or Archive of Our Own (AO3), I have to say that there is, in many (but not all) of them, a difference in tone and subject that may make it difficult for someone who is used to writing for a fic audience to take the same work and simply print it, as is, for the larger market, even when that person is very skilled. I’ve thought a great deal about what this difference is, and come up with one possible answer.

It may have something to do with the “genres.” Stories on fan fiction sites typically belong to genres, which are listed at the beginning, to let the reader know what type of story they’re looking at. Some genres–eg., “Mystery,” “Romance,” “Drama,”–are self-explanatory.  Others are peculiar to the fan fiction world. If a story is designated as “Angst,” for example, you can expect a lot of emotional discussions, emotional brooding, emotional release, and just…every kind of unhappiness imaginable. Another popular one, “Hurt/Comfort,” features a main character being injured, ill, or upset, then being comforted by another character. If such a story contains “whumpage,” you can expect that the character on the hurt side is going to be taking a beating, over and over again. In fact, even in a very traditional “casefic” (a story focused on one case), the serial nature of fan fiction may mean that the author throws in all sorts of subplots, setbacks, and whumpage to a degree that one wouldn’t expect in a commercial novel.

I don’t think Holmes can take much more…. Oh, goody! Erysipelas!

And that’s the difference, I think–expectations. People go to fan fiction for good stories about characters they love, but they also read fics because they want to explore certain scenarios. Sherlock Holmes fan fiction, for example, tends to contain a lot of hurt/comfort stories in which Watson is hurt, and Holmes takes care of him–a way for the writer to explore the feelings and actions we’re given a glimpse of in “The Three Garridebs.”*** For a similar reason, there are many tales which feature, as a main part of the plot, Holmes brooding over his relationship with Watson (generally feeling guilty because he’s treated him poorly), or Watson being angry because…well, he believes that Holmes has treated him poorly. Depending on the skill of the writer, these stories can be either rich, complex tours de force, or just a nice distraction. The thing is, however, I don’t think the larger Sherlockian audience (the kind to whom one is trying to sell books) is looking for this–at least, not to such an amplified degree. In order for a fan fiction to transition well to the regular market, it’s probably necessary to adjust the Holmes, Watson, or other canon characters in one’s headcanon to more traditional versions. For example, it’s all right to explore Holmes’ and Watson’s relationship–in fact, it tends to add depth to the story–but it’s better to do it more subtly than happens in most fics, without many protracted brooding scenes or tears.  “Whumpage,” too, should be more realistic. There are quite a few stories in which the amount of physical and mental punishment dealt out would have killed the target character by the third chapter. In the fic world, everyone plays along. Your typical pastiche reader, however, will probably be more skeptical.  In a similar vein, I’m also not so sure that vignettes and writing exercises, like “drabbles” and “221Bs” translate well, as is, to a commercial book. People don’t always seem to understand what they’re for. It’s best to incorporate these into the story, with the caveat that they should be relevant to the larger plot.

When it comes to publishing your fan fiction for profit, then, a rewrite will, most likely, be in order. Look for out-of-character moments, repetition, loose plot threads, anachronisms, plausibility questions, etc. Do the historical research your story calls for, if you haven’t already.  And let me finally add that I love fan fiction. Ok, I adore it with every fiber of my being, and there are authors posting right now whose level of writing talent I covet. Still, if you’re considering publishing your work off-line, it’s probably advisable to ask for a critique from a reader (or three) who is not familiar with fan fiction. Use their comments to help re-create your work into a book with appeal that spans age, gender, and experience.

I would, incidentally, very much like to know your opinions on this. Do you see any difference between online fan fiction, and what is generally published? I have to ask that, if you do comment, don’t name fic writers, and definitely do not do so if you’re planning to comment on their work in a negative way. Those posts will not be approved. Unless you want to use your personal experiences, the discussion should probably remain general. Still, in a world where, every once in awhile, a writer can emerge from the land of fanfic and do quite well for herself, wouldn’t it be nice to see a Sherlockian author do the same!†

So. Here endeth the series. Thanks for your indulgence. It’s been on my mind for several months, and I hope you’ve found it interesting, perhaps even useful. Even if you think it’s all rubbish, keep writing–that’s the important thing.  And, as always, let me know what you have to say in the comments.

Footnotes:

*For example…

Husband: “This sentence is too long. Isn’t there such a thing as a period?”

Me: Grit teeth. Fix it.

**In general, if a person cares enough to join a professional organization, it’s a good sign.

***Or for Holmes to mess it all up in a humorous way. It’s not all dark and depressing in fanfic land.

†Preferably without “shades” of anything.

As promised, here is the interview with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles author, Martin Powell. Mr. Powell’s resume is an extensive one, so we had a lot of ground to cover….

*******

First, the question everyone gets: How did you first meet Sherlock Holmes? 

That would go back to the sixth grade, I think.  “The Norwood Builder” was in our English Reader text book and I remember the day my teacher assigned the class to read that story and write a report on it.  First, she told us a bit about Sherlock Holmes, explaining that he was the “World’s Greatest Detective” and that he was so smart he could learn all about someone just from studying them for a few seconds.  I was intrigued.  I read and loved the story.  I thought it was very clever how Holmes revealed the culprit at the end.  That always stuck with me and I started hunting down more Sherlock Holmes adventures.  Some years later, a local TV station began running “Sherlock Holmes Theater” on Sunday mornings, with all the Basil Rathbone films.  By then, I was seriously hooked.

Do you have a favorite Canon story? If so, what is it, and why is it your favorite?

Well, probably The Hound of the Baskervilles, actually.  It’s the iconic Sherlock Holmes mystery, and the one most people think of in connection with his name whether they’ve ever read it or not.  It’s always appealed to me because of its approach of scientific reason over superstition, and also because of its great brooding atmosphere.

 
And, since this is a blog about pastiche, do you have a favorite non-Canon book, story, or author?

I don’t read many Sherlock Holmes pastiches, because I don’t want to be unconsciously influenced by any other writer other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle when I’m writing Sherlock Holmes.  Way back before I began writing professionally, I did read a few non-Doyle Holmes books.  The best ones were written by Nicholas Meyer and Michael Hardwick.

Your graphic novel, The Hound of the Baskervilles, is an adaptation, rather than an exact copy, of Conan Doyle’s book. Can you explain why adaptations are important?

Adaptations can sometimes reach a broader audience for classic literature, in much the same way film can accomplish.  For example, a comics or graphic novel reader—who isn’t aware of Sherlock Holmes from the original source material—may be more inclined to read a graphic novel or a comic book version than the actual book.  In fact, that’s the specific mission of the publisher, Sequential Pulp/Dark Horse Comics, which is why I pitched the project to them.  The graphic novel medium provides fans with a visual interpretation of what they could only see before in their minds, which can be very exciting.  Comics can often be more effective than film because writers can internalize their characters, allowing us to look deep inside their own heads, in a way that movies can rarely accomplish.  If ever.

Can you describe your adaptation process for us? 

That’s kind of tough to explain.  It’s always been difficult for me to describe my writing process, and adapting a prose novel into comics form is even more complex.

My main focus was to remain as true to the original book as I could be, to make it as authentic as possible, while also pacing the action and directing the characterization in ways which those readers already familiar with the story wouldn’t find too overly familiar or tedious.  I re-read the novel and made very meticulous notes, breaking up the action and dialogue into panels as I paced my script.  It’s rather similar to crafting a screenplay in some ways.  Part of the art of the process is deciding what you can use and what you can lose and also, if appropriate, what to add of your own.  My scripts are very detailed.  I give pretty full directions to the artist, detailing what emotions the characters should be expressing, suggesting camera angles and close-ups and wide shots.  In comics and graphic novels the writer is sort of like a film director preparing the story for the artist who also doubles as photographer and actor.

A little trick I use in all of my comics and graphic novel scripts is to always end each page in such a way so that the reader is compelled to turn the page.  That way I can control the pacing of my stories.

After my script was finished the artist, Jamie Chase, interpreted my words into pictures within panels.  Then, I went through my script again for a final revision, tightening up the dialogue to leave as much space as possible for the art.  I actually copied very little of Conan Doyle’s dialogue, by the way.  Instead, I purposely attempted to write in his style.  In comics, unlike prose or in film, space is always a concern.  You don’t want word balloons to totally cramp the visuals.  It’s a tricky process and one you can only learn through the experience of actually doing it.  I’ve probably written over three hundred comic books stories so far, and I’m still learning how to do it.

What was the hardest part about adapting The Hound? The easiest?

Adaptations of another author’s work are always more difficult and time consuming than writing something of my own.  The toughest part of The Hound was probably figuring out how to contain the plot within a set amount of pages.  Most writers like to make their stories longer and that’s usually a mistake.  Pacing is the most important part of a mystery tale, leading the reader along with you, misdirecting them, surprising them, etc.

The easiest part was that I love the characters and the story, so all the effort I put into it didn’t feel like work.  That’s the very best of times on any job.
 

You’ve written other adaptations. Was Conan Doyle’s work more difficult to work with? Easier? And why?

Sherlock Holmes is very difficult and mentally exhausting for me to write.  That’s why I’ve only written nine Holmes adventures in all these years.  It’s an arduous thing following in the footsteps of an author who was so much smarter than me – not to mention Sherlock Holmes himself, who was more brilliant that his creator!  I’ve never returned to Sherlock Holmes unless I was in just the right mood and had the proper story already in mind.  Every single Holmes tale I’ve written has been composed as if it was my last attempt.  Without doubt, that will be true someday, but I’d like to think that there are a few more Holmesian mysteries rattling around with the cobwebs of my brain somewhere.  We’ll see.

Another of Mr.Powell’s Holmes titles.

What made you decide to enter the graphic novel/comic field?

Hah.  Well, originally I set out to be a prose writer, trying to emulate my heroes Ray Bradbury, Richard Matheson, Shirley Jackson, and Edgar Rice Burroughs.  I worked at that dream for years, never selling anything.  Finally, I submitted a script to a science fiction comic book anthology, based on one of my many short stories, and it sold immediately.  I tried another one and it sold, too. Eventually, I would sell prose fiction, too, as well as animation scripts, children’s books, and educational science books.  I don’t think of myself as any particular kind of writer.  I’ve always believed that writers should be able to perform in any medium whenever it presents itself.  It’s the only way anyone could hope to be doing this full-time for as long as I have.  At least, it’s the only way I’m aware of.

Do you have favorite graphic novel/comic writers and/or illustrators? Who are they?

Bruce Jones, Alan Moore, and Will Eisner are my favorite writers in this medium.  There are a lot of others, of course.  As for artists, well, my favorites are usually the people I’ve been working with and, very happily, we often become real friends.  I’ve been very lucky to have collaborated with some of the best cartoonists and illustrators in the industry.  A short list of special favorite artists are Pablo Marcos, Dean Haspiel, Terry Beatty, Patrick Olliffe, Tom Floyd, Dan Brereton, Jamie Chase, Lowell Isaac, and Diana Leto.  There are many more, but those are the closest to my heart.

Hahaha…well, I like to stay warm during the Minnesota winters and eat on a regular basis, so I have to have a very strict professional discipline in order to make a living.  It’s never an easy thing, being a full-time freelance writer.  You always need to be thinking about where to find your next gig – sometimes thinking forward up to six months in advance.  I write seven days a week, with rare exceptions, usually ten to fourteen hours a day.  It also helps that I’m an insomniac.

What draws you to the stories and characters you work with? Do you find that you like to explore similar themes?

 I’m very specific about what types of projects I choose and pursue.  Although I have written for Superman and Batman, I’m not especially interested in mainstream comics.  I much prefer the odd-ball stuff.  My recent Mars Attacks Popeye is a fine example.  When they approached me to write it and told me the title, I was immediately charmed.  It also helped that Popeye has been my favorite comics character since before I can remember.  I like to be challenged and be offered things I’ve never written before.

What story or character have you most enjoyed working with?  Is there one you’d like to write about in a future book?

Well, when the fit is upon me, I thoroughly enjoy writing for Sherlock Holmes, although it’s often quite a task.  Much more recently, Mars Attacks Popeye and my own The Halloween Legion have been my happiest times at the keyboard so far, especially the odd little back-up tale which will be featured in the our upcoming Halloween Legion graphic novel.  It’s an autobiographic story of when my older brothers took me Trick ‘R Treating for the very first time and, in many ways, is sort of my own origin story.  Making it particularly special is Diana Leto’s beautifully whimsical illustrations.  Diana co-owns The Halloween Legion with me, knows me very well, and she’s uncannily captured that epic long-ago Halloween night as if she’d been an eye-witness.  It’s truly a weird, wild, and wonderful moment in my life, both personally and professionally, set down on the comic book page.  I got a distinct chill when I saw her finished artwork.  It sort of makes me wonder if I should, perhaps, write more autobiographic material, as I’ve lived a rather adventurous life.  I’ve dug up dinosaur fossils, been a professional actor, investigated paranormal events, and have even worked as a stage magician.  Hmm.  Maybe.

As for other characters I haven’t professionally worked with yet, I would love to write a Betty and Veronica story for Archie Comics!  That would be great fun.  And I have a feeling that day will come.

Tell us a bit about your original characters.

The Halloween Legion is very special and even sentimental to me.  They represent the best of everything to me, creatively and personally speaking – mystery, humor, nostalgia, and an eerie atmosphere of fun.  The characters themselves are the archetypes of Halloween itself – The Skeleton, The Witch, The Devil, The Ghost and The Black Cat.  Diana and I have lots of plans for our World’s Weirdest Heroes, as we call them, everything from more prose books, more graphic novels, toys, t-shirts, even animation and film.  Our motto is “Every Day is Halloween.”  And we’re going to make that come true for everyone who wishes it, too.

In a very different vein, way back when I was just starting out artist Dean Haspiel and I created a grim science fiction mystery series starring an obsessed crime-fighter called The Verdict.  It caused a small stir in its day, mainly because of its gritty atmosphere which has become the norm in many comics today.  Since then, I’ve written dozens of children’s books, serious mysteries for grown-ups, and have even translated Shakespeare into graphic novels.  Dean has had an amazing career as an artist, and recently won an Emmy Award.  We’ve been seriously considering blowing the dust off The Verdict and resurrecting him, sensing that the timing seems right.

I have a number of other ideas, too…only time will tell the tale.

Are you working on something new?  (Ha ha–of course you are!). What can we expect to see from your pen in the future? 

 Hah.  Always.  Like I said, I like to keep the lights on and the refrigerator stocked.  Aside from the stuff already mentioned, I have a new graphic novel coming out soon called Martians, Go Home, a sexy sci-fi dark comedy beautifully illustrated by Lowell Isaac, and stylishly lettered by Diana Leto, as well as some officially authorized books based on concepts created by Edgar Rice Burroughs.  It’s been a very busy time.  Hope it lasts!

Let’s hope plenty of treats will be forthcoming!

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles, a graphic novel written by Martin Powell and illustrated by Jamie Chase, was  just released by Dark Horse Comics on 13th February. You can find it at your favorite online bookseller, and at most brick-and mortar stores where graphic novels are sold.  You can find Mr. Powell’s blog at http://martinpowell221bcom.blogspot.com.

Never say never….

My father wasn’t much of a recreational reader.  I’m not sure he ever read a piece of fiction willingly in his entire life. Unless, of course, it came in handy comic book form. So it was that, when one of his teachers assigned the class a book report, my dad decided to go about the task in the most efficient way possible, with this:

Now, you know Tom would have approved.

I’m sure he filled the minimum amount of page space required, then ran happily off to play, assuring my grandmother that he was, indeed done with his homework.** Unfortunately, however, Dad’s teacher had been around awhile. She knew exactly what he had done, and he was forced to redo the assignment, this time with (ulp!) the actual book. For his sake, I hope it was abridged.

I’m sure my dad always wondered exactly how his teacher knew. I suspect he might have written something about the pictures. However, it’s also possible that she knew because he based his report on an adaptation, rather than Twain’s actual book, and an adaptation necessarily means that something from the original source has been altered. When I first began this blog, I was firm in my decision not to review graphic novels. Not because I don’t like them, but because I know nothing about art and, more particularly, graphic novel and comics artists. A true graphic novel aficionado would receive no useful information from me. However, when I was asked to read a pre-release copy of Martin Powell and Jamie Chase’s graphic novel adaptation of The Hound of the Baskervilles, I decided I might as well try, and I am so glad I did. First, because they’ve done a fantastic job. And second, because it gave me a chance to really think about the art of adaptation.***

First, however, just a brief background and  synopsis of The Hound of the Baskervilles (spoiler free!) just in case any of you have not yet read it.

Awww, he’s just a fluffy glowing puppy!

You know how the car breaks down, the pipes freeze, your furnace quits, the dryer burns through a belt and the kids get the stomach flu all on the same day and you wonder if your family’s cursed? Well, the Baskervilles of Devonshire don’t have to wonder. Ever since Sir Hugo Baskerville (noted libertine and generally horrible person) kidnapped a girl and then essentially ran her to death while pursuing her with dogs, then was himself killed by a satanic black hound, the men of that family have lived in the shadow of violent, possibly supernatural, death. Just before the story begins, actually, Sir Charles Baskerville, a kindhearted man whose goal it was to restore the family home and use its fortune to bring prosperity to the area, dies of heart failure in…well, never mind, they were natural causes.

Or were they? Dr. Mortimer, country physician and phrenology enthusiast, can’t make up his mind. Because, as he tells Holmes and Watson, while Sir Charles had a weak heart and was under a great deal of emotional stress due to his fear of the family curse, not far from his body were…well, they were footprints. Hound footprints.†

So now Dr. Mortimer has a dilemma. Besides being Sir Charles’ friend and physician, he is also the executor of his estate, and now that the new (and only) Baskerville heir is arriving in England from Canada, he needs to know if he should let the man take possession of Baskerville Hall, or warn him to take the money and run? Science and the supernatural are at odds, and he chooses Sherlock Holmes to make the final call.

Holmes and Watson are men of science; neither of them give much credence to the whole spectral hound story, but there’s something strange about Sir Charles’ death, and once they meet with the new heir, the danger surrounding him becomes more obvious. There is, after all, the anonymous letter, the case of the missing boots and the fact that a bearded…detective…appears to be shadowing them. There’s no fairy tale here, but “an ugly, dangerous business.”†† It’s only reasonable that Holmes sends Watson to investigate while he pursues a blackmailing case in London.

So now we have Watson, in a desolate manor, on a more desolate moor, doing his level best to investigate matters and sending detailed (even poetic) reports back to his colleague. There’s so much to cover: forbidding staff, a wailing woman, a litigious neighbor, dangerous mire pits, even a deranged murderer, escaped from a nearby prison.  Then there’s that eccentric lepidopterist and his sister; despite Holmes’ strict instructions that he not leave Sir Henry alone, Watson’s having a devil of a time keeping the young man from slipping out on his own to woo the lovely Beryl. Who is the butler signalling with that candle? Could it be the mysterious man on the Tor?

Was that…a howl?

Conan Doyle was excited about writing HOUN; “It will be a real creeper,” he told his mother. Inspired by journalist Bertram Fletcher Robinson’s tales of Devonshire folklore, The Hound of the Baskervilles was initially supposed to be a collaboration between the two men, but eventually (possibly helped along by Sir Arthur’s correspondence with Strand editor Herbert Greenhough Smith, Robinson’s packed schedule and, let’s be honest, the promise of a nice payday) a stand alone ghost story evolved into a new novel featuring The Great Detective, his first outing (besides the Gillette play) since his creator tossed him over the Falls. Conan Doyle does not give a year in HOUN, although it has to be post 1884, given the date on Dr. Mortimer’s walking stick , so readers could assume it took place pre-Reichenbach. However, its reception opened the door to “The Empty House.” We owe the world to Mr. Robinson and his scary stories.††

Now you’ve got the background….let’s get to the point, shall we?

The Hound of the Baskervilles  is a great story–in fact, the more times you read it, the better it gets. As such, it’s been told and retold in various forms for its 110 years. Martin Powell’s and Jamie Chase’s adaptation is the first graphic novel version I’ve read, and so I was very interested in seeing their approach.

The story begins on the moor, as Sir Charles waits outside the Hall for a nighttime visitor. Unfortunately, his assignation turns out to be rather more deadly than he expected. We then travel immediately (and seamlessly) to Baker Street, where we’re treated to the traditional opening banter between Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, this time over a walking stick forgotten there the previous evening by a visitor they managed to miss. I noticed immediately that, while this scene plays out in a very similar manner to the one in the book, the two are not identical. What takes Doyle approximately three pages of dense type (depending on your version), Powell handles in 11 panels and  approximately 270 words.‡  Stripping away the description, Watson’s preening at Holmes’ praise, and quite a large number of adjectives and adverbs, we get the essence of the scene and lose none of the information, atmosphere, or emotional impact. Holmes is still confident, Watson is still frustrated; the dialogue and the illustrations work together to create a Baker Street as real on the page as it is in our imaginations.

The abbreviated length of a graphic novel pretty much ensures that some parts of the story will be missing. For example, if you are a fan of the phrenological exchange between Holmes and Dr. Mortimer (or Dr. Mortimer and whomever he encounters), you will be disappointed. Similarly, if your favorite parts of the story involve two missing pairs of boots, dying ponies, booming bitterns, lengthy back story, or the arrival of Inspector Lestrade, you’ll need to look elsewhere.‡‡

Also missing are Watson’s analyses of either his or Holmes’ emotional states–no “hidden fires” here.‡‡‡ This serves to underline both men’s strong and heroic natures, as well as the puzzle and the crime itself. When Powell adds anything (and this is rare), it’s to inject humor, or to say a little more about the character–he does both, for example, when Dr. Mortimer forgets his walking stick…again. The story moves forward quickly, with an appealing emphasis on dramatic action. For this reason, the ending is not at all ambiguous, but it has at least one precedent on film and, let’s face it, only the most merciful among us would think the the novel points to anything else.

Jamie Chase’s illustrations are atmospheric–mostly darker shades, with the occasional dramatic splash of color, as befits a foggy capital and a sere moor as autumn wears on.§  Watson and Holmes look exactly as you would expect them to–Watson is particularly well done–and Sir Henry is the handsome hero described in the book. I was at first a little disappointed in Beryl Stapleton’s expressions, but that was until I re-read the novel; then I realized that her demeanor goes along well with her difficult situation. The larger panels are striking, and the hound is truly creepy-looking. These are just the impressions of someone who knows very little about graphic arts, but I thought that the illustrations and the script worked  very well together.

There is a true art to adaptation–knowing how to find the essence of the story you need to tell, and pruning away the bits which get in its way. If you get it right, nothing, paradoxically, will be missing. I think it safe to say that, if this is the first version of HOUN you read, you’ll come away with a very solid understanding of the story, and have a good time with it as well. I would definitely recommend it for those who are put off by denser prose, or for Sherlockians looking for a way to lure…I mean, introduce younger readers to Sherlock Holmes. For seasoned fans such as yourselves, Powell and Chase’s work is just a fun, exciting way to spend an hour, or even to get a quick plot refresher. All in all, I found Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles  to be a solid effort by a talented team.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles is available via the major online booksellers, and any brick-and-mortar merchant who carries Dark Horse Comics. It is scheduled for release on 13th February, 2013. Martin Powell is a prolific writer whose work you’ll find in several sections of your local bookstore:  graphic novels/comics, children’s books, mystery, and science fiction. Sherlockians may have read his stories in anthologies such as Gaslight Grimoire. You can find him at http://martinpowell221bcom.blogspot.com/

Star Rating: 4 1/2 out of 5   “Well worth your time and money.” 

Footnotes:

* This review is based on a pre-publication electronic file.

**His grandchildren have inherited this trait. It seems to skip a generation.

***Martin Powell has graciously agreed to answer some interview questions  for the blog. I’ll post them as soon as they’re available.

†The quote here is just classic. I won’t cheapen it by typing it without the proper lead-ins.

††The Hound of the Baskervilles.

†††You can read all about this period in ACD’s life in Alistair Duncan’s book, An Entirely New Country, which covers his Undershaw years in great (and interesting) detail.

‡ Assuming I counted correctly.

‡‡I know, I also like Lestrade, but if you think about it (SPOILER ALERT!), although Holmes summons him for a good reason, his presence there ends up being moot. And if you like dying ponies, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??!!

‡‡‡In the original HOUN, Holmes’ extreme relief to find that Sir Henry is, at one point, not dead, leads Watson to observe “These were hidden fires.”

§It was hard to tell, as I used a digital, pre-pub copy with a watermark, but some of the moor illustrations appeared to have used actual photographs of the landscape.