Monthly Archives: February 2015

A Holmes for all seasons

In many cases, I would proclaim myself to be a literary purist. I’m not usually one for adaptations, such as the tragedy that is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Please, do not even get me started.

However, there are certain adaptations that I like. In fact, there are several Sherlock Holmes adaptations in particular that I think are brilliant.

Late last year, I began reading the novels of Laurie R. King. Her heroine, Mary Russell, is often described as a female Holmes. She is in many ways, but she is also a brilliant character for her own sake. There is a whole group of folks on the internet who claim she is a Mary Sue, but I will hear none of that. She exhibits the same intellectual capacity of her husband, but she has better people skills. I have never once heard any of the hateful comments directed her way fired at Holmes. One cannot help but think that such comments are a case of misogyny run rampant on the Internet. Sadly, the Internet is full of trolls.

Oh, Russell is also a feminist.

Which is quite excellent, thank you very much.

Lest you think Russell is without fault, which would indeed make her a Mary Sue, she does have two distinct character flaws:

1) Her opinion of John Watson.

She adores Watson, even calls him Uncle John, but she dotes on him in the way someone would a child. She consistently underestimates him, as many Holmes fans do, really. Which is a mistake. Watson is not the bumbling sidekick. He is a doctor and a soldier, and he can keep up with Holmes in his own way. He is an intelligent man. He just gets sidelined because well, who wouldn’t when they’re running with Sherlock Holmes? One thing I appreciate about current adaptations is their treatment of Watson. Martin Freeman, Lucy Liu, and Jude Law are excellent Watsons. They are portrayed as equal to Holmes, and it is so refreshing. (I would also like to note that Benedict Cumberbatch, Jonny Lee Miller, and Robert Downey Jr. are wonderful Holmeses, in their own ways.)

2) She can be too forgiving.

No, really. She lets nasty people get away with far too much sometimes. Because she learns what motivates them, and she more often than not finds it within herself to pity them. It makes her a truly wonderful human being, but it’s not very satisfying when we readers want to see the bad people punished.

As far as Holmes goes, King does an excellent job writing him. He reminds me of the Jeremy Brett Holmes, and there is also a touch of Miller’s interpretation of the character.

I’m currently three novels in, and there are many more to go. We’ve still got some winter to get through, so while it keeps on snowing out there, this is an excellent series to turn to once you get back inside from shoveling that wintry mess.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

As we are nearly done with winter, I am almost ashamed to admit that I am still working on this past summer’s summer reading list.

Almost.

We all know I read far too many books at one time, but it’s not like I’m going to stop any time soon. It is what it is my friends.

So, I am indeed still working my way through those books, but I am happy to say I had some down time recently to finish Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude.

Marquez, who passed away in April of 2014, was a Colombian novelist perhaps best known for this book as well as Love in the Time of Cholera. (I’ve also read that book, and would urge you to pick up a copy. It is lovely and sad all at once, and full of Marquez’s lush and evocative imagery.)

One Hundred Years of Solitude was first published in 1967, but its widespread critical acclaim and global popularity were major factors in his receiving the 1982 Nobel Prize for Literature.

This book tells the story of the rise and fall of the town of Macondo, an isolated outpost in colonial Latin America. Tucked away in the Colombian jungle, the town prospers under the leadership of the Buendia family. As time and generations pass, so do the family’s good standing and power. They fall prey to their own selfishness and lust, whether it be for other people, wealth, luxury, or even knowledge (several characters spend the majority of their lives locked up in a dark room with a bunch of parchments).

The town and its people are fictional, but to me the hallmark of Marquez’s style has always been its vibrancy, and it is especially on display in this book. The immediacy of his descriptions pulled me right into the time and place he creates with Macondo.

This is a book you can sink your teeth into; not something you can knock off in an evening and a few cups of tea. There are creation and national myths throughout, as well as religious, philosophical, and literary metaphors. Time is also a tricky thing throughout. The only other work I can call to mind where time is more fluid is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Believe me, that is saying something.

This was the second work of Marquez’s that I have read, but I am sure it will not be the last. My only regret is that I did not have the privilege of reading more World Literature when I was in school, because now I have so much lost time to make up for.