Compliments of the Season from the staff at SHSSC!

I am going out for shoulder surgery tomorrow, so will only be able to type with one hand.

So before the message would only read, "C         ents  f t e Seas !" I want to wish all. . . .

"COMPLIMENTS IF THE SEASON!"

 Whispering he says; "I hope to work on my Sherlockian Opus while I am off."

Sherlock Holmes at his most jocular - BLUE

BLUE has always been one of my favorites. BLUE and HOUN. Both are full of atmosphere and settings I can relate to.

Each year at about this time I reread BLUE as part of my Sherlockain Christmas tradition.
It never becomes stale or fails to satisfy with our only filling of Sherlockain Christmas cheer.

I also get the feeling that Holmes is, for some reason, Canonically, at his most cheerful.
Was it Watson's visit? Was his career at it's peak? Although I am sure Holmes is sincere in his glad tidings in seeing his old friend, I feel there is more to it than we will ever know.

But throughout this case Holmes is simply in a great mood. And in good humor.
Almost every paragraph of Holmes' dialogue holds some little moment of light-heartiness;

". . .a(n) most unimpeachable Christmas goose.”

". . .to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, . . ."

For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. “It is a question of cubic capacity,” said he; “a man with so large a brain must have something in it.” 

When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week’s accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife’s affection.” 

We don't often see Holmes explain his deductions and observations in, I feel, such a light-hearted way.

“Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window?”

“Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop.” 

With the exceptions of James Ryder, Holmes deals with everyone in this story in an almost whimsical way; " Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem . . . "

"If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature.”

Some chronologists but Watson marriage before BLUE, so for those we assume Watson was with Mary for the Christmas Holiday.

Holmes we will never know how he spent his. But however, it seems to have lifted his spirits.

I can't help but feel this was a good holiday season for Holmes, even if we don't know what brought on his good cheer, and while John Horner may not have had a good Christmas day, at least his New Year was looking up.

Did you have dinner or supper?

“Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up this clue while it is still hot.” Sherlock Holmes.

Although we now use the words dinner and supper interchangeably to mean the same thing, our largest meal of the day. It has not always been as such.
Well, at least in certain cultures.

Most of us have grown up in a society that now runs on three meals a day; breakfast, lunch and dinner.
At least that is the way my family has always done it.

Breakfast, usually oatmeal or cereal (with bacon and eggs on weekends). 

Lunch, what ever mom packed for school or the lunch ladies cooked.

And dinner, when dad got home from work, and our biggest meal of the day.

I don't remember us ever having a distinction between the use of the words dinner or supper, although I seem to have been called to more 'dinner times' than 'supper times'.

For much of the English speaking world dinner is the biggest meal of the day, usually taken sometime between noon and early evening.

Even the now traditional Sunday Roast is sometimes called Sunday Dinner or Roast Dinner.
In the USA we usually eat our Thanksgiving or Christmas meals early in the afternoon and they are usually referred to as Thanksgiving Dinner or Christmas Dinner.

And supper would be a lighter meal taken later in the evening. The etymology of supper is usually seen to come from some form of soup. Which would suggest a light meal.

For much of it's modern history the time of 'dinner' seemed to keep getting pushed back, until what had been a meal taken at two or three in the afternoon, to now easily taking place much later, at say six or seven. One survey by an Australian winemaker found that the average time in the UK for the evening meal is now about 7:47 pm.

Throw into the mix 'Tea Time' and what time that could take place, and what is served with 'Tea Time' and it can get real confusing.
Where I have always assumed 'Tea Time' was at 4pm, source suggest it can also be taken some time between 5 and 7.

It is associated with the working class and is typically eaten between 5 pm and 7 pm. In the North of England, North and South Wales, the English Midlands, Scotland and in rural and working class areas of Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland, people traditionally call their midday meal dinner and their evening meal tea(served around 6 pm), whereas the upper social classes would call the midday meal lunch or luncheon and the evening meal (served after 7 pm) dinner (if formal) or supper (if informal). Source 

So, with all that said, there doesn't seem to be any firm set rules of when you call what, it just depends on where you grow up.

With that said; what prompted this inquiry was when Sherlock Holmes says, “Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop.”

And then a few minutes later Holmes and Watson have the following exchange; “It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?” 
“Not particularly.” 
“Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up this clue while it is still hot.'

This suggests that, one; dinner was going to be Holmes big meal of the day. Two; it was going to be rather late, seven. And three; super would be a very late, a much lighter meal (maybe cold woodcock sandwiches?).

We must also remember that this habit of assigning times to meals can also be considered an industrial age habit and mostly, as suggested, a middle and upper class tradition. Poor countries and rural workers were more likely to take the meals when time and abundance allowed.

These are the Canonical discussion that made me wonder how we use the words dinner and supper.

BLUE ends with Holmes saying to Watson, "If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature.”

So, we know their little expedition didn't even start till at least seven. Probably took at least an hour or so. So supper was sometime after 8 or 9pm.

I hope Mrs. Hudson wasn't keeping things warm all that time.

At this point in the story I see an image of the long suffering Mrs. Hudson more as she is portrayed in 'Sherlock' than in Granada's Sherlock Holmes.

Okay, you asked for it.

And just to cap things off. . . . .

The bowler, not the cowboy hat or sombrero, was the most popular hat in the American West, prompting Lucius Beebe to call it "the hat that won the West".^[

Source

Back by popular demand!

This may turn into a small monograph soon . . . . .

“Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up this clue while it is still hot.”

Sherlock Holmes makes a joke.

“Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop.”

And while we are at it 'Billycock'

History of Bowler Hat

Bowler

hat is a hard felt hat with a narrow brim and a rounded crown. It was also known as bob hat, billy coke, billycock, bombin and derby. It was first made in 1849 for Edward Coke, British soldier and politician and the younger brother of the 2nd Earl of Leicester. He ordered it from the hatters Lock & Co. of St James's as a sort of hard hat, to be close-fitting and to have a low crown so it can protect heads of Coke’s gamekeepers so when they ride they don’t hit their heads in braches of the trees that hang low. Before bowler hat, gamekeepers wore top hats that were too high, got knocked off a lot and used to damage when they hit the ground. Bowler hat was designed to solve these problems. Lock & Co. gave job to its chief hatters Thomas and William Bowler (hence the name). Story says that when bowler hat was finished, Coke came to London on 17 December 1849, placed it on the floor and stomped on it two times. When he saw that it withstood the test he was pleased and paid 12 shillings for it. Until recently, it was believed that it was William Coke who ordered and designed the bowler hat but a nephew of the 1st Earl of Leicester presented research that proves otherwise. It is now common belief that it was Edward Coke who designed and commissioned the hat. Lock & Co. called it “Coke” hate (it reads as “cook”) after its common practice to name hats after the one who ordered a custom hat. That explains why after that, the hat was called “billy coke” and “billycock”. In years after that it was call bowler hat after the Bowler Brothers who produced it.

Patent date (it is always) 1895

 “Here is the foresight,” said he putting his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. “They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this precaution against the wind."

HO, HO, HO. . . .

'Tis the Season . . . .

And the tradition continues. . . .

An SHSSC Christmas tradition - The Adventure of the Fur-Trimmed Hat

The Adventure of the Fur-Trimmed Hat

By James C. O’Leary

I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes on Christmas Eve, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a chartreuse dressing-gown, the day’s newspapers well-studied and his black briar emitting a curl of blue smoke in the ashtray. Beside the couch was a straight-backed chair, and on the stile hung a seedy and disreputable fur-trimmed stocking hat, much the worse for wear. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been hung with care for the purpose of examination.

"You are engaged," said I, "perhaps I interrupt you."

"Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one" (he motioned his thumb with a jerk in the direction of the cone-shaped covering), "but there are points in connection with it which are not entirely devoid of interest, and even of instruction."

I seated myself in his armchair, and accepted the glass of heated eggnog Holmes offered, for the day had been still and cold and now that night had fallen, it was colder still. "I suppose," I remarked after a sip of the landlady’s concoction and the warm glow that started to radiate from within, "that, homely as it is, this thing has some deadly story linked to it--- that it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some profound mystery, and the punishment of some malefactor."

"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four and a half million human beings cheek-by-jowl within the space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. You know Peterson, the commissionaire?"

"Yes."

"It is to him that this trophy belongs."

"It is his hat."

"No, no; he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it, not as a tattered tupplue, but as a conical conundrum. Your arrival is fortuitous as Peterson is downstairs with Mrs. Hudson getting a cup of tea and I as yet have listened to his story. We shall listen to it together. In the meantime let us see what we can deduce of the owner.”

"From his hat?"

"Precisely."

"But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered bonnet?"

"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?"

I took the harried headgear in my hands, and turned it over rather ruefully. It was a red triangular plush cap with a white fur pom-pom at the point, and white fur trim around the base. The lining had been of red silk, but was a good deal stained. There was no maker's name, at least as far as I could tell, but sewn in once-golden thread were strange linear hieroglyphics. It was pierced in the inner brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the discolored patches by daubing them with red ink.

"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend.

"On the contrary, Watson; how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Your eyesight is fine. You fail, however, to apply reason from what you see."

"Then pray tell me,” I replied some asperity, “what it is that you can infer from this hat?"

He gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion which was characteristic of him when he took on the air of a disappointed tutor lecturing a particularly dense pupil. "It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been," remarked Holmes, "and yet there are a few inferences which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably elves, at work upon him.”

“Elves!”

“This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him,” he continued, disregarding my remonstrance.  “He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect. He is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, perhaps just once a year, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which he anoints with rather expensive avocado-cream. These are the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his blushing bucket. Also, by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house, no doubt because he lives on an isolated farm raising reindeer."

“Surely, you’re joking!”

“You know I detest that nickname. I don’t even allow my brother Mycroft to call me that.”

“No, no; I meant you are certainly not serious.”

“Ah. I’m quite serious, my dear fellow.”

"How did you deduce that this man was intellectual?"

For answer Holmes slipped the linty lid upon his head. The fur brim passed over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a brain must have something in it."

"The decline of his fortunes, then?"

"This hat is old. These type of plush fur lined hats have long been out of fashion. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the fur, and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a hat. and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world."

"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight, and the moral retrogression?"

"Here is the foresight." said he, putting his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. "They are never solid upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the elastic, and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavored to conceal some of these stains upon the plush by daubing them with red ink, which is a sign that he has not entirely lost his self-respect. The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses avocado-cream, are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct odor of avocado-cream, which is rare in this part of the world and speaks of a wanton self-indulgence and further evidence of moral regression. This dust, you will observe, is not the gritty, gray dust of the street nor the dirt of the country, but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time; while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the wearer perspired very freely, and could, therefore, hardly be in the best of training."

"But his wife - you said that she had ceased to love him."

"This hat has not been brushed for months, perhaps a whole year. When I see you, my dear Watson, with a year's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection, if not your wife herself."

"You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce that the gas is not laid on in the house?"

"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but, when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow - walks upstairs at night probably with his topper in one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow stains from a gas jet."

“But elves?”

“I am familiar with over thirty types of European writing systems. These markings sewn into the lining are Tomte runes, peculiar to an especially short Scandinavian race locals refer to as ‘elves’. Our friend the hat owner is not a Tomte himself as seen by the hat size but must have a deep association with them to adapt their writing. They are a happy but short-tempered race, given to much mischief. Loyal if treated well, but pranksters and thieves if crossed. Long association with them could again lead to moral retrogression.”

“And the reindeer farming?”

“There are several indications. One: this type of hat is still fashionable in northern climes. Two: the white fun, unless I am very much mistaken, is polar bear, again an indication the wear resides up north. Three: the Tomte live in Scandinavia and nowhere else. Four: there are reindeer hair on the outside of the hat. As the author of A Study of Ungulates and Ruminants and Their Association with Criminal Actives, Illustrated with Forty Color Plates I was able to identify the fur quite easily. It seems then highly probable our mysterious friend is a reindeer farmer.”

Footsteps sounded on the stair and after a knock on the door Peterson the commissionaire entered. He greeted us cordially and at Holmes’ urging began his tale.

“I had an important commission this evening, but because it was Christmas Eve, the cabbie decided not to wait for me. The streets were fairly deserted and there was not another cab to be found so I started to walk back home while keeping my eyes peeled for transportation. I was walking down Bartholomew Lane---“

Holmes sat up straight on the sofa. “You were in the City?”

“Yes sir. Quiet as a tomb.”

“Go on”

“Well, it was dusk and not a soul to be seen. I reached the corner when I suddenly heard the jingling of bells and out of the sky dropped this funny hat, right at my feet. It’s not quite a bobble or a toque and it had this queer sort of writing inside and I thought that if anyone could make sense of this happening and maybe return the hat to its owner, it’s Mr. Holmes.”

“What else.”

“Sir?”

“What else did you find, Peterson?”

The commissionaire’s cheeks flushed. We knew Peterson to be an honest man and his reaction was one of embarrassment, not guilt. “We-ell,” he stammered, “after I picked up the hat and looked at it and took a step onto the way of going home, this piece of paper fluttered out of the sky right into my hand. I thought it was…a reward – in advance, like, for getting the hat back to its owner…’

“A reward?”

“You know, for doing a good deed…from…” Here Peterson looked up at the ceiling. He reached into his pocket then held out his hand. There in his palm was a clean, crisp five pound note. Holmes took up his lens and the note and examined it under the lamp and even held it under his nose briefly. When he turned back to us his manner was still phlegmatic but there was a most singular intentness in his eyes that told me he had chanced upon some clue of importance. Holmes went over to his desk. “I propose an exchange, Peterson, this fiver for yours. It’s not quite as new, but it will spend the same and I guarantee it has the same amount of luck as yours.”

Peterson took the note with some reluctance. Holmes turned back to his desk and scribbled out a message, handed it to the commissionaire along with some coins. “Please go to the telegraph office and send this before you go home. And,” he said placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I can assure you this felt-and-fur Phrygian will find its home ere long.”

As soon as the door close, Holmes tore off his dressing gown and headed to the wardrobe in his room, all the while speaking. “What a blind beetle I’ve been! You remember that pretty little problem of Helen Stoner’s at Stoke Moran? At first all the clues pointed to the gypsies but once on scene it became obvious it was that group of plasterers hired by her nefarious step-father.” Readers of these somewhat incoherent series of memoirs will recall “The Adventure of the Spackled Band”. “Well, my deductions about that hirsute headgear were perfectly reasonable, logical and entirely wrong, all because I lacked two facts.”

“The five pound note?”

“And the location.”

“Bartholomew Lane?”

“The corner of Bartholomew Lane and Threadneedle Street.”

A dark and sinister notion started forming in my mind. Holmes came out of his room and tossed me a pistol while checking to see that his was loaded. “Be a good fellow and hail us cab, eh, Watson?”

The horse’s hooves beat out a swift tattoo as our hansom headed to the City. “I believe you suspect Peterson’s fiver was a forgery.”

“You positively scintillate tonight, Watson.”

“So the hat is part of a disguise.”

“For over one hundred and thirty years Jules-Thomas and Sons has been operating out of the same building in the West End providing costumes and property for theater companies and acting troupes. Like many immigrants to our shores, they anglicized their name from the original Scandinavian Jultomten.”

“Jultomten---Tomte?”

“Exactly so, Watson. The Jules-Thomases are descended from that Scandinavian race locally known as elves and even today their scion are exceedingly short people. Early in the company’s history the family name was sewn into their costumes---“

“--- in Tomte runes.”

“Watson, your eyesight improves by the moment! We can now look at our muffed mantle in a new light. It was manufactured well over a century ago of the best materials and meant to be durable. It was designed to fit all heads so was made on the larger side, so it could accommodate wigs. There is also the well-known factor of actors possessing larger crania than the general population. To save costs, it is repaired frequently, such as the touch-ups of red ink. As there is usually strenuous action on stage during the course of a production, that would account for the hat-securer and the sweat stains. As there is not much call for this type of hat except during the holiday season, there would naturally be a many-months accumulation of dust in the storage area located in the oldest part of the building where gas has yet to be laid. The dust tells us one other thing; professionals like Jules-Thomas would not allow a costume to go out in such a condition. Therefore, it must have been stolen.”

“The freshly-cut grizzled hair then must belong to the thief.”

“Bravo, Watson! I see that marriage has not staled your infinite variety.  Cabbie, stop here.” We were let off at Cheapside and Queen Victoria Street and, being as inconspicuous as possible on the deserted streets, made our way to the “Grey Lady of Threadneedle Street”.  The Bank of England, the financial heart of the Empire stood dark, silent and imposing in the light of the gibbous moon. The air was still and our breath shot out in front of us like smoke from a pistol shot. We made our way along the bank’s façade on Princes Street where Holmes found a rope ladder almost invisible in the shadows. We climbed to the first level roof and surveyed the five story wall that stretched above our heads to the top of the building. Here the cunningness of the rope-ladder’s design was made clear as even in the bright moonlight it was practically invisible to the eye and from the street below would be non-existent.

With Holmes in the lead we ascended the wall in the bracing winter night air, up past the sloping shingles of the top floor to the narrow, relatively flat roof.  There, not far from us, silhouetted against the sky were a group of two-legged reindeer gathered around a skylight. Nearby appeared to be a large sledge piled high with packages. They spoke in whispers with their backs to us, antlers bobbing in the cold. Holmes took out his revolver and I followed suit. We crept to within a few feet of the costumed men then Holmes stood and in a quiet voice said, “Gentlemen, do not move.”

His voice rang out like cannon fire in the hushed darkness, seemingly turning the men to statues. Holmes edged closer to the skylight. “My friend here is known as the Deadly Doctor, so pray, be still,” he said sotto voce as he peered down in the stygian depths.  I took pride in Holmes’ complement of my marksmanship until the sniggering of one of the men reminded me of its possible double meaning. The cocking of my hammer shut him up.

Presently, a shuffling sound emanated from within the building and up rose from the black hole a head of long white hair, then a face surrounded by a full white beard. One red-mittened hand held the rope ladder attached to the skylight, the other a bag slung over a shoulder. Holmes clapped his gun to the man’s head. “Up and out slowly, if you please. That’s good. Now place the sack down. Right. Watson, you’ve heard me speak of this gentleman, but I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting him. Doctor John Watson, Professor James Moriarty.” Holmes had pocketed his gun, grabbed the hair in one hand and the beard in the other and yanked away. There stood the former mathematics professor, his bald pate fringed with grizzled hair gleamed in the moonlight, his sunken eyes glaring with malevolence at the detective. “A masterful performance, Professor, although your costume is sadly incomplete.”

Comprehension broke on his features as the whole chain of events that led to his capture became clear. “The hat! If it wasn’t for that damned freak gust of wind--- “ Those were his first and last words of the evening as he clamped his mouth shut and refused to speak further.

Then from out in the street there arose such a clatter. “Watson,” said Holmes, his gun now back out and trained on Moriarty, “take that gentleman there” (he indicated one of the reindeer who would appear to be most at home at Newgate) “over to the ledge and have him report what he sees.”

I motioned the brute over and he peered down. “There’s a great lot of Black Marias, a fire brigade and a whole lot of coppers.” I motioned the man back to his herd.

“That will be Inspector Bradstreet, the Yard, the City Police and the ladder engine. I am afraid your brilliant plan of stealing the actual five pound note plates” (here he tapped the sack with his foot) “and substituting counterfeit plates to cause the financial collapse of the Empire is for naught, Professor.” City and Metropolitan Police swarmed to the roof and soon the two professional law groups were fighting over who would make the arrest and who would claim credit in the papers. Eventually, the criminals were led away and the lawmen cleared the roof leaving Holmes and I alone at the scene.

Holmes examined the “sledge”, which was a balsa cutout ingeniously constructed to fold into a small, portable square for easy transport, yet from the street or the window of a neighboring building would appear to be substantial.

“There is always a touch of the extravagant to Moriarty’s schemes. To create a tableau of Father Christmas visiting the Bank of England just to discredit any possible witnesses…” He shook his head. “Hum. I wonder…”

What is it, Holmes?”

“Peterson said he heard bells, then the cherry chapeau landed at his feet, yet neither Moriarty nor his ‘reindeer’ were wearing bells, and this cutout certain doesn’t have any. Where did the sound come from?”

Then above the distant sound of London there was the faint jingling of bells, which grew louder, then a voice from above said, “Good night, Mister Sherlock Holmes. Ho, ho, ho.” We both turned skywards and there across the waxing moon appeared four pair of reindeer drawing a sledge driven by a rotund bearded jolly man who waved at us. As we watched, the apparition turned to the north and rapidly disappeared clean out of sight.

I do not know how long we stood there transfixed but finally I whispered my companion’s name. That broke the spell. Holmes snapped, “Watson, you know my maxim that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. As it is impossible for reindeer to fly, that the only vehicle able to lift such a sledge is a hot-air balloon, which was not in evidence, and further a hot-air balloon could not achieve such speeds as witnessed, there can be only one probability for our folie à deux; Mrs. Hudson spiked our eggnog with absinthe!

“However, as this is the season of forgiveness, we shall not reprimand her, or mention it to her, or,” he turned to me and spoke in a steely voice, “mention this incident to anyone, ever!”

Holmes strode the roof edge and the rope ladder, then stopped and stared thoughtfully at that spot in the northern sky where the apparition vanished and where now faintly glowed a star.

“You know, Watson,” he spoke slowly as a clock chimed midnight, “I am not one to celebrate holidays, but if I were to wish for a present, I can think of no better one than to be with my old comrade-in-arms, back in action and on the thrill of the chase, putting the most dangerous criminal in London behind bars. Complements of the season.” He stuck out his hand.

“Complements of the season, Holmes.”

We shook.

For inspiration, I’d like to thank John Foster and Gahan Wilson. ---JCO’L

The Criminal Mastermind of Baker Street by Rob Nunn - A review.

Like I said in my previous post, this is not a book I would have picked up on my own.

I don't like reading books about Holmes that takes him out of my comfort zone.

Rob asked my to take a look at his first book and give my thoughts.

What Rob has done is take a fun exploration into Holmes career as if he had taken that once suggested path down the road to a career in crime.

Rob has connected in some way all sixty of the stories into a web of crime that only Moriarty could appreciate.
Smoothly blending many of the habits and traits we love about Holmes  while adding an almost noble veneer to a mob boss in Victorian London.

He has not taken the heart that is inside Holmes and Watson and made them Moriarty like in that of a one dimensional crime boss, but instead has tried to make their new life explainable and acceptable.

Most of the places and characters we love make an appearance in the book and make it feel familiar.

The Holmes in Criminal Mastermind is a crime boss for the little people, with at times a Robin Hood like air.

If I am to find any faults with Robs first book it would be that on a couple of occasions the conclusions seemed abbreviated or too quick to come to an end.

And with any tale of Holmes and Watson I would have liked to have seen them written in Watson's hand.

Rob's writing is very good and you can tell he has a background in education and a love for his subject.

I enjoyed the book and look forward to more works from Rob Nunn.

The Criminal Mastermind of Baker St. by Rob Nunn - A book review to follow.

I do not usually read books that take Holmes and Watson out of my comfort zone. I am happy to have Holmes and Watson live at Baker St. and be my dynamic duo with all the best intentions.

But a local Sherlockian that I have met and correspond with has asked me to review his latest book.

So while it seems to take Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson down a path I would never consider, I must admit I am looking forward to reading it..

So, in the next couple of days, be looking for my thoughts on Rob's new book.

Holmes and Watson will open Nov 9th. (2018)

So I am told.

Under, "I did not know this!"

A.A. Milne played for the amateur English cricket team the Allahakbarries alongside authors J. M. Barrie and Arthur Conan Doyle.

Allahakbarries.

No body ever said Lestrade would make a good bad guy.

Broadstairs conman used name of Sherlock Holmes character to impersonate police officer

PUBLISHED: 08:58 19 October 2017 | UPDATED: 08:58 19 October 2017

Tom Pyman

A conman who used the the name of a character from the Sherlock Holmes novels to impersonate a police officer has been jailed.

Aaron Cowan, 24, was arrested in April after his false name of Inspector Greg Lestrade raised the suspicions of one of his victims.

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"The Theatre, the Theatre, what's happened to the Theatre/" - Danny Kaye

Theatre Royal Bath to Stage World Premiere of Sherlock Holmes: The Final Curtain

BY OLIVIA CLEMENT

OCT 18, 2017

The U.K.’s Theatre Royal Bath has announced its lineup for spring 2018. The three-show program includes the world premiere of Sherlock Holmes: The Final Curtain starring Robert Powell as Holmes and Lisa Goddard as Mary Watson.

Completing the season lineup: the world premiere of Harley Granville Barker’s Agnes Colander, edited by Richard Nelson and directed by Trevor Nunn; as well as the U.K. premiere of Samuel D. Hunter’s Off-Broadway hit The Whale, directed by Laurence Boswell.

Kicking off the season in Theatre Royal Bath’s Ustinov Studio will be the newly edited premiere of Barker’s early 20th century play, Agnes Colander. The tale of female independence and ambition will run March 15–April 14, 2018, with casting to be announced at a later date.

The Whale is set to begin performances in the Ustinov April 26 for a run through May 26. Artistic director of the Ustinov, Boswell, directs the engagement, a co-production with Ben Limberg, Joel Stillerman, and Empire Street Productions.

Rounding out the season will be the theatre’s mainstage production of Sherlock Holmes: The Final Curtain. Written by Simon Reade after Arthur Conan Doyle and directed by David Grindley, the thriller sees the retired detective faced with a new mystery to solve: the possibility that his arch nemesis is really alive.

The world premiere will be presented by Theatre Royal Bath Productions and Kenny Wax, with performances scheduled for April 25–May 5.

For more information visit TheatreRoyal.org.uk.

Young Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes goes to prep school in Ridley Pearson's 'Lock and Key: The Downward Spiral'

Story Here.

While doing something non-Sherlockian on the USS Constellation . . . .

I came across this. . .

In the (book) news.

Manchester, NH – Sherlock Holmes fans unite: Belanger Books LLC and Arkham House Publishers Inc. recently launched a Kickstarter campaign to publish the first new Solar Pons story collection in over 20 years.  

“It is with great pleasure & excitement to announce this news; The Derleth Solar Pons character will be coming back to life in the 21st Century!” said Danielle Hackett and Damon Derleth, co-owners of Arkham House Publishers Inc., in a joint statement. “We are pleased to be working on this project with Belanger Books and look forward to this release and future projects together.”

The story collection is titled The Papers of Solar Pons: New Adventures of the Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street and features new stories by bestselling author David Marcum. Marcum is most known for his Sherlock Holmes fiction (The Papers of Sherlock Holmes) as well as collections he’s edited such as The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes stories, currently on Volume VIII. “I first read a Solar Pons story at age eight, two years before I discovered Sherlock Holmes, and I credit the enjoyment of that Pons story with giving me an appreciation for that type of adventure,” said Mr. Marcum.

Solar Pons was created by August Derleth in the 1920s as a continuation of the Sherlock Holmes canon. Derleth, who famously created Arkham House Publishing to preserve the writings of his friend, author HP Lovecraft, had corresponded with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, asking whether Doyle would be providing any new Holmes adventures. When Doyle said no, Derleth determined to write some himself. However, instead of writing more Holmes tales, Derleth came up with Solar Pons, a detective very similar to Holmes, and Dr. Lyndon Parker, his Dr. Watson. Eventually, between the 1920’s and his death in 1971, Derleth wrote over seventy Pons tales, set in that period between the end of World War I and 1939. “The Pons stories clearly take place in Holmes’s world, as the Great Detective himself is referenced by Pons and Parker on several occasions,” explained Marcum.

The Papers of Solar Pons: New Adventures of the Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street contains 12 new Pons adventures, ranging from the early 1920s to the late 1930s – the range of time described in the original Pontine Canon. Additionally, one of the tales contains a flashback to one of Pons’s early cases, soon after he set up his London practice. “And as something extra, the book also contains a Holmes story that I wrote a few years ago, explaining the origin of Solar Pons,” said Mr. Marcum.

Other Sherlock Holmes connections include a story where Pons is called upon to investigate the theft of Watson’s Tin Disptach Box from Cox & Co., and another where Pons and Parker revisit the site of one of the Holmesian Canon’s murders. And then there is the murder that occurs in the lab at Barts, where Holmes and Watson first met so many years before. “I very much appreciate the Derleth Estate for allowing me to bring these stories to the public, and hopefully to generate some new interest in one of the greatest detectives of all time, Solar Pons,” said Mr. Marcum.

Derrick Belanger, co-owner of Belanger Books, LLC hopes that Mr. Marcum’s book will be the first of many new Pons adventures.  “Our goal is to publish yearly anthologies of new Solar Pons stories as creating new editions of the original August Derleth Solar Pons books. The character is beloved by many mystery fans who have been wanting more tales of the detective for decades,” said Mr. Belanger. “We will reach out to authors for contributions and release a call for story submissions in the near future.”

The Papers of Solar Pons: New Adventures of the Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street will be released by December, 2017 if fully funded via Kickstarter.  The Kickstarter campaign rewards include hardcover, paperback, and e-book versions of Marcum’s Solar Pons book. Backers may also get an autographed hardcover edition of the book, signed by David Marcum as well as other backing levels that include additional Sherlock Holmes books published by Belanger Books. For updates as the project progresses, please visit New Solar Pons Book, Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street Returns on Kickstarter.

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After such a good interview, I can't believe they just picked up on the word 'transgender'. . .

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar Predicts the Future of Sherlock Holmes 

The novelist and NBA legend says the detective could be "an alien" or 'transgender.' 

By Ryan Britt

 on September 19, 2017

Filed Under Books, Comics, Fandom, Gender, Race & Sports

The biggest name in Sherlock Holmes fandom is without a doubt, NBA legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. After dazzling hardcore Sherlock fans and newcomers alike in 2015 with his novel Mycroft Holmes, Abdul-Jabbar has returned to chronicling the adventures of Sherlock’s older brother with the new steampunk graphic novel adventure; Mycroft Holmes and the Apocalypse Handbook.

Inverse got in touch with Abdul-Jabbar to find out how he approached his new Mycroft story but discovered a slew of other stunning facts along the way. The NBA All-Star’s insights about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective adventures are mind-blowing and sincere. Here’s which Holmesian techniques Abdul-Jabbar used to win on the basketball court, how he switched to writing for a visual medium, and why he thinks a future Sherlock could be transgender.

What was the single biggest change challenge in switching from prose to graphic novel?

The novel’s narrative—from language to setting to characterization—is an extension of Conan Doyle’s Holmesian world. But the graphic novel’s narrative is the opposite. Like the BBC’s Sherlock, I chose to embrace the spirit of Conan Doyle’s characters but be more adventurous with my approach. In the graphic novel, Mycroft is a roguish very reluctant hero more interested in gambling and womanizing than saving the world. The setting moves from Victorian England to the Wild West to Washington, D.C. There are steampunk weapons, lots of humor, and appearances by Queen Victoria and Jesse James. And Sherlock.

Why do you think Mycroft works as an action hero? Does he work BETTER as an action hero than Sherlock?

The Mycroft of my graphic novel is a dynamic action hero because he is in desperate need of redemption. He has a secret past with his younger brother Sherlock that has affected him. He also feels disconnected from the world around him because his enormous intellect makes people so painfully predictable. Going off on an Indiana Jones-type adventure is an opportunity to find meaning and surprise in life.

I’ve read that you used Sherlock Holmes stories as inspiration when you played for the NBA? Is that true? What other aspects of life do the Sherlock Holmes stories impact? In other words, is there a lot of wisdom that is applicable to other settings?

It’s true that the Holmes stories inspired me to be much more observant about opponents so I can gain an advantage over them during games. I even had my own Baker Street Irregulars. [Sherlock's secret urchin informants, first seen in 'A Study in Scarlet.']

I started paying special attention to the conversations among the ball boys and other staffers. When I overheard a couple ball boys joking about how Bob Lanierand his coach would smoke in the locker room at halftime, I decided to run Bob up and down the court as fast as I could the second half.

More important though, the Holmes stories are about the triumph of reason and logic over superstition and mob mentality, which is the basis for modern civilization. That struggle between reason and group-think is the major social issue in our country. To me, logic is the key to saving humanity from its self-destructiveness.

Would you ever consider bringing Mycroft into a more contemporary setting?

I would be interested in modernizing it for a movie or TV series.

Are you considering doing more pastiches connected to Sherlock Holmes characters?

I’m focused on Mycroft for now. But I never know when I might decide to do something different in the Holmesian universe.

What is your favorite original Sherlock Holmes story?

I have a lot of favorites. As much as I like the stories, I prefer the novels because it means spending more time with Watson and Holmes. I especially like The Hound of the Baskervilles because it appears to be horror story without rational explanation until Holmes applies his expertise. For me, the story is a metaphor for much of the irrationality that people use to explain what they don’t want to examine closely.

What is your favorite adaptation?

I loved the Basil Rathbone movies when I was a kid. His terse dialogue and fiercely intense expression made the stories so suspenseful. The BBC’s Sherlock is brilliant in every way. Innovative plots, clever characterization, witty dialogue—and still making us care deeply about Holmes and Watson’s relationship. Recently, I read a mystery novel IQ by Joe Ide that features a Sherlock-type sleuth who is a black kid from the streets of South Central Los Angeles. I loved his take on the classic story.

Sherlock's appearance in the new graphic novel

What do you think Sherlock Holmes will look like in the 22nd century?

The idea of a character who is the epitome of rational thinking with an insatiable hunger for knowledge, but who needs a friendship in order not to lose his humanity will always be around. It doesn’t matter what race, gender, or nationality the new Sherlocks are. Perhaps the next one will be transgender or an alien or an android. It doesn’t matter as long as we don’t lose the essence of what Holmes represents.

This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

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Mycroft Holmes and the Apocalypse Handbook, written by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Raymond Obstfeld with art from Joshua Cassara, Luis Guerrero, and Simon Bowland is out today from Titan Comics.

Photos via Titan Books, Getty Images / Slaven Vlasic
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The novelist and NBA legend says the detective could be "an alien" or 'transgender.'