One of my many literary pilgrimages while I was in London and Paris included a trip to a very famous address–221B Baker Street, the home of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. I had heard it was a tourist trap and was pleasantly surprised that it was better than reported. I wrote more about it as part of a book review earlier this week, so today–pictures!
It all rather makes me want to read another Holmes book.
Check out At Home with Books for more Saturday Snapshots!
I brought a great stack of British books with me when I went to London, many of which I hope to share with you. I thought I’d start off with Sherlock Holmes, which kills several birds with one stone. It’s a good book for the R.I.P. Challenge, and also lets me share a little about my trip!
First, the book review. I’ve read a lot of Sherlock Holmes stories and novels in the past, and to be honest, when I look at titles I’m not always sure which ones I’ve read! But I was almost sure The Valley of Fear was a new-to-me book (and it was), so I brought that one with me to London. It turned out to be an interesting mix of a novel.
It opens, as most Holmes stories do, with Holmes and Watson invited to look into a strange case. A man is found dead in his home out in the country–complicating the situation, his home is an old fortress, complete with moat. The drawbridge was up, so how did the murderer get in, and where did he go? There are a few strange details about the crime scene and the other people in the house. The murdered man seems to have had something dark in his past, but the only clue is a vague reference to “the Valley of Fear.”
So it’s essentially standard Holmes fare, and a good mystery with a clever resolution. Holmes is in fine form, it’s always nice to visit with him and Watson, and all in all it’s a good Holmes story. The biggest point of interest for me is that Moriarty is referenced here. I had always previously thought that he was only in the single short story (and, of course, many adaptations). There’s more about him here, which explains a lot.
The funny thing about this book is that it’s in two parts. Part One I described above–Part Two is a flashback into one character’s past in the Valley of Fear. I feel like I can see here Doyle’s desire to get away from Holmes, because he’s essentially given us a non-Holmes novella in the middle of a Holmes novel. It’s interesting enough, but not as good as the section with Holmes.
It suffers also from a rather peculiar problem which is hard to discuss without spoilers. Doing my best…there’s a twist near the end which changes almost everything that came before it. The problem is, in order to give the impression which leads to the shocking twist, for most of the book we’re dealing with very unlikable characters. It might have been better as a short story, when we wouldn’t have to spend quite as much time with unpleasant people.
Even so, if you’re a Holmes fan, this is definitely worth reading for the mystery in the first half, and the insight into Moriarty. And it was a great choice for my trip, because I was in a Holmes mood. You see, one of the places I visited was 221B Baker Street.
I had heard it was a tourist trap, but it was better than reported–at least, part of it. As I think about it, the museum actually has a fair bit in common with The Valley of Fear. It opens splendid and very Holmesian, and then diminishes as you go.
221B Baker Street, of course, is the home of Holmes and Watson. It’s very vertical–you get to visit three small floors. The first level has the parlor and Holmes’ bedroom, and this level is absolutely superb. Every detail you could want is there, with Irene Adler’s photo on the mantel, Holmes’ tobacco in a slipper, and Watson’s medical bag on a chair. In Holmes’ room there’s an open book on beekeeping, which he took up after he retired from detective work–it’s those little details that really impressed me.
The next floor is sort of Watson’s room and Mrs. Hudson’s room (although I never had the impression before that the landlady lived in the same apartment…) This level is a mix of period things and Holmes memorabilia. Both are interesting, but they do sit a little oddly together.
The third floor is fairly dreadful. It’s all done up with mannequins meant to be characters from different stories, and for whatever reason they made choices towards the macabre and the grotesque. It’s all rather creepy–and I was there at ten in the morning. I shudder to think what it’s like in the dark.
But like The Valley of Fear, the museum is all worth it for the beginning. The parlor makes you feel like you’ve stepped into the stories.
Stay tuned this Saturday for more pictures from 221B Baker Street. I’m anticipating a Holmes-themed Saturday Snapshot!
Other reviews:
Lucy’s Bookshelf
The Literary Omnivore
The Flying Inn
Anyone else?
The “Readers Imbibing Peril” challenge (experience) is starting up at the beginning of September. This is another reading event from Carl at Stainless Steel Droppings, and it’s my first year joining in. As you might guess from the acronym, this challenge is about a creepier side of literature, focusing on mysteries and horror and gothic writing.
This is not quite so much my area as the Once Upon a Time challenge–in fact, it’s not at all my area! But since Carl’s events are so much fun, I can’t resist jumping in anyway, and I’m willing to try a few books from the darker, more mysterious region of writing.
I have less planned than I’ve done for other challenges. I think I’ll be conservative and aim for Peril the Second (read two books), Peril of the Short Story, and Peril on Screen. I have Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie and some Sherlock Holmes to get me started on mysteries. Northanger Abbey is next on my list from Jane Austen, to bring in the gothic. And maybe I’ll watch some Twilight Zone or Alfred Hitchcock. Other than that, I’m curious to see what other people read and review, and expect to pick up some new ideas from that.
And I expect to have an excellent good time. 🙂
When I travel somewhere, I try to bring books set in the place I’m going, or at least reflective of the place. I’m heading to London and Paris in September, so I’m looking for some good British and French novels! I have a few ideas, but I thought I’d put the question out there for ideas.
A Tale of Two Cities occurred to me as an obviously appropriate choice, except that reading Dickens requires a bit too much effort for a vacation read.
I know I want to read some Sherlock Holmes. I have a volume of the Complete Stories, but I haven’t actually read all of them. I won’t be bringing that particular volume (much too heavy for travel!) but I plan to pick up a book of stories from the library.
I want to read something by Agatha Christie, but I’m not sure what yet. I’ve never read her and I’ve been meaning to for ages. She’s one of those authors you hear about, and L. M. Montgomery enjoyed reading her, and she shows up in an episode of Doctor Who!
I plan to re-read The Little White Bird by J. M. Barrie, because it’s set in Kensington Gardens and I’m staying two blocks from the Gardens–deliberately, because I’ve read The Little White Bird before. It’s all rather circular, really.
But that still leaves me woefully short of books for a two-week trip! Any suggestions?
I’ve been on a Phantom of the Opera kick lately–I mean, more so than the ongoing attachment I’ve had to the story for the last eight years. I wrote a post about different versions, and learned about a new-to-me book, The Canary Trainer by Nicholas Meyer–thank you, Swamp Adder!
Now how I could resist the Phantom of the Opera meets Sherlock Holmes, written by the director of Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan? Especially after rereading the flawed but enjoyable Angel of the Opera by Sam Siciliano, another Holmes-meets-the-Phantom story. It may not be quite fair to compare them (especially since The Canary Trainer was published a year earlier) but it’s also unavoidable. TCT was better than AotO…and worse, contradictory though that might sound.
The big problem with AotO was that it completely maligned Watson. TCT at least did better in that regard, and that does make a big difference. Watson was back in his proper place as Holmes’ closest friend. Holmes regards Watson’s writing about him with outward disdain and secret but obvious pride–as it should be. The book opens very well, with Watson visiting Holmes and discussing past cases, finally teasing a new story out of him. Here we go into a book-length flashback, told from Holmes’ point of view. I think I would have preferred a story that kept Watson’s POV, but this worked well enough–and better than bringing in a superfluous new narrator.
The story is from Holmes’ “lost years,” the time between Moriarty going off a cliff and Holmes’ return from the dead. Apparently Meyer has written other books set in this time period, including one that brings Holmes and Freud together. I haven’t read the others, and though they’re alluded to occasionally, I don’t think it’s necessary in order to read this one. The story, as you’ve probably guessed, has Holmes deciding to go to Paris. He’s incognito, since everyone presumes him dead, and has to find other, non-detective work. He chances to hear that the Paris Opera is hiring a new violinist, and applies for the job. Once at the Opera, he finds mysterious happenings involving the Phantom. He also encounters Irene Adler, who is singing at the Opera. She recognizes Holmes and asks him to help her new friend, Christine Daae–the “canary” who has a mysterious trainer.
And so it goes from there, with a falling chandelier, an inept viscount, a soprano in distress and a crazy man in a mask. Like Siciliano, Meyer doesn’t make major plot changes. Holmes is investigating the story we all know, and if nothing is greatly improved, nothing is done badly either, plot-wise.
You might say the same for Holmes. He was reasonably well-drawn, nothing extraordinary. If there’s anything reading other writers tackle Holmes has done for me, it’s made me appreciate Doyle’s ability to give Holmes clues and let him draw conclusions. No one else seems to be able to do that to any great extent, although in one scene Holmes does figure out Raoul’s entire life circumstances just by looking at him. But it was one moment, instead of a perpetual state. I won’t say that the absence of deductive reasoning was acute enough to have the character actually off-track, but he wasn’t strikingly on-track either. He also seemed to struggle a bit in his investigations. I think he was more accurate to the original and more likable than Siciliano’s Holmes, but also less capable–and not as likable or as capable as Doyle’s Holmes.
We don’t see a whole lot of Christine and Raoul, and they were pretty standard when we did see them. Raoul is immature and incompetent, Christine is hopelessly innocent and naive. They both fulfilled their roles without doing much more than that–although Christine did get to score one point on Holmes. She’s talking about her Angel of Music, and Holmes says he seems very angry for an angel. To which Christine returns, “Haven’t you ever heard of avenging angels?” Touche, Miss Daae. But on the whole, she was pretty much sweet and stupid. Looking at the basic plotline of Phantom, Christine has to be either very stupid or very clever, either a victim or the one who’s manipulating the whole thing. I’d love to see a version where Christine is manipulative (think about it–who comes out ahead quite frequently?), but so far everyone’s been choosing to make her stupid or at least confused (though I think Webber is open for interpretation).
Anyway, now we come to the key question: the portrayal of the Phantom. Usually, he’s a deeply complex character: tragic, sympathetic, terrifying, sometimes romantic, brilliant…certainly the most interesting one in the story. That’s the later versions; in Leroux, he’s much more a monster. Everyone else has been working on reforming him ever since. Except Meyer. The Canary Trainer is the first and only version I’ve found where the Phantom is actually less sympathetic than in Leroux (so…points for originality?) This is the first time he’s gone the opposite direction and felt more like a character from a monster flick, stranger, crazier, and less sympathetic. If you’ve read Leroux, you’ll know that making him crazier is really saying something.
This is the first time the body count has actually gone up. In Leroux, one person is killed by the chandelier; in The Canary Trainer, it’s almost 30. Four men who were drugged in Leroux to get them out of the Phantom’s way end up killed here. You can make the point that the Phantom is a murderer regardless of how many people he kills, but I think there’s still little doubt that Meyer was deliberately creating a more villainous Phantom. I don’t quite know what to make of that. In a way I do applaud his decision to do something different. But…there’s a reason everyone else made the Phantom more sympathetic. He’s more interesting that way.
That may kind of sum up the book. There’s nothing really wrong with it. It’s not flawed in the same ways that Angel of the Opera is flawed, nor is it flawed in other serious ways. But it didn’t do anything all that interesting either. Holmes and the Phantom were both stripped of what makes them fascinating (Holmes’ deductive ability and the Phantom’s complexity), and in the end you get a book that is not bad–better than some versions–but not great either. I don’t hate it, and I don’t love it. I think it comes out about even with Angel of the Opera, but that’s because it’s neither as good in some ways nor as bad in others. I’m glad to have read it; I’m endlessly intrigued by what people make of the Phantom story. But I do think Nicholas Meyer accomplished something much more impressive with The Wrath of Khan.
Author’s Site: http://nmeyer.pxl.net/
Other reviews:
Here, There and Everywhere
A Bluestocking’s Place
Anyone else?
Tales of the Marvelous 