Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lightconductor) wrote2010-06-02 10:41 pm
lightconductor) wrote2010-06-02 10:41 pm
Entry tags:
Thoughts on a DOOMED MARRIAGE.
In the first place, one of my very favourite adaptations of Sherlock Holmes is a series of BBC radio plays starring Clive Merrison as Holmes and Michael Williams as Watson. There's also a series of non-canonical pastiches made after Michael Williams's death where Watson is played by Andrew Sachs. If you know Fawlty Towers at all, yes that Andrew Sachs. He's pretty good too. The plays are very clearly a labour of love, occasionally gently poking fun at the canon. Holmes is acerbic and impatient and brilliant, Watson is intelligent and capable, and the two of them have a wonderful chemistry and sense of banter. I adore these. A lot.
The series also has some of the most bizarre slashy moments ever. Mary Watson makes two references to her husband being totally in love with Sherlock Holmes, once accusing Watson of marrying her under false pretenses because obviously his heart really belongs to Holmes, not her, and once on her death bed (it's strongly implied in these that she dies of consumption/tuberculosis, actually) where she bemoans the unfair deaths of herself and Holmes as "everyone you've ever loved, John." There's also a shared drug-fueled nearly-fatal hallucination which is represented on radio by Holmes and Watson chanting together the English translation of some Wagner that Holmes was quoting at Watson earlier: "Let us die, and never part, together for the rest of time."
Today, I relistened to "The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier."
This story in itself is slightly unusual. It is one of only four stories that is not narrated in the first person by Watson, the other ones being His Last Bow (third person), The Adventures of the Mazarin Stone (also third person), and The Adventure of the Lion's Mane. Like Lion's Mane, Blanched Soldier is narrated by Holmes. Watson is not even in it.
However, apparently they felt the need to get Michael Williams in there somewhere. How better else to do it than explain his absence and give us updates on his progress? Watson is not present, because Watson is on his honeymoon.
In the original story, Holmes says early on that:
The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone.
Since this is 1903, Mary is long since dead. So yes, there seems to be some indication that Watson remarried around this time, especially as another story or two of this era has Watson living away from Baker street. This wife is never named in canon, nor even mentioned aside from this one sulky mention in this one story.
This wife is actually one of the few things I dislike about this series. Jean Watson is the most boring woman in the world. I predict nothing but doom for this marriage, seriously. In an early episode, Watson says of Jean that she's not adventurous like Mary was. This is a vast understatement.
The episode opens up just after Watson's wedding has taken place. He and Holmes are standing about outside chatting. Holmes announces at one point that he has a handful of confetti! Jean comes over to join them, Holmes congratulates them, and Watson asks if he'll be coming to the wedding breakfast.
Holmes: Alas, no.
Watson: (puzzled) Oh.
Holmes: (flippant) I'm sorry.
Watson: (suddenly very interested) A case?
Jean: (faintly warningly) John.
And the subject is suddenly, totally, and completely dropped. By everyone.
What is this? While Mary actively encouraged Watson to run off with Holmes at the drop of a hat, understanding how important it is, Jean discourages him from even asking about the work? This does not bode well. I cannot agree.
They say goodbye, and the Watsons head off to breakfast, and then to depart on their honeymoon.
The mystery begins soon after this. The mystery in Blanched Soldier is faintly slashy in itself, actually. The client, Mr. James Dodd, is a soldier, freshly returned from South Africa. He has a great, very dear friend of his, another former soldier, who was wounded in the line of battle and returned home.
"We formed a friendship -- the sort of friendship which can only be made when one lives the same life and shares the same joys and sorrows. He was my mate -- and that means a good deal in the Army."
They wrote to each other a good deal, when his friend's letters suddenly stopped altogether. He called upon his friend's home, where his friend's parents treated him brusquely and refused to tell him what had become of their son, nor why he had stopped writing, or give him explanations that don't fit.
"Many people, Mr. Dodd," said he, "would take offence at your infernal pertinacity and would think that this insistence had reached the point of damned impertinence."
"You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son."
Really, the whole story is basically this guy Dodd freaking out because his friend stopped writing him and going nuts because his friend's parents won't tell him the truth, and he's seen him, for god's sake, he's right here. It is definitely a very. Close. Friendship.
Which is very interesting when combined with this story which Holmes opens by alluding to Watson deserting him. Certainly they've lived the same life, shared the same joys and sorrows. No one can deny that.
Anyway.
During this adaptation of Blanched Soldier, we are given periodic updates on the Watsons On Honeymoon.
Why? No freaking idea. But it doesn't bode well, in my mind.
The first interlude has them on the boat to the continent for they European train. Jean Watson is terribly seasick.
Jean: Don't try to cheer me up! I just thank goodness the rest of our European tour... will be by train.
Watson: Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to lie down?
Jean: Oh, no, John, no John...
Watson: You're not doing too badly, you know! Even some of the crew are looking a bit green.
Jean: (crossly) If you can't find anything more helpful to say--!
Watson: (quickly) I'm sorry. It won't be too long now.
It's the way Watson responds with that hasty apology that gets to me. It's not attempting to be consoling, it's not 'I'm sorry, I'll let you be.' It's almost 'oh god, please don't be angry with me.' Like a kicked dog. It's... not good.
The next interlude has them in Paris, city of romance! As the newlyweds wander the streets, they encounter a poster.
Watson: Hm, Bel Ami. We could see that this evening.
Jean: What is it, John?
Watson: It's, ah, a theatrical spectacle.
Jean: (pointedly) I did manage to construe that from the poster!
Watson: It's from Maupassant's novel.
Jean: Wasn't that meant to be rather... daring?
Watson: Not for Paris!
Jean: (distastefully) I think I'd rather not, John, if you don't mind.
Watson: Tea, then? There must be somewhere close.
Jean: (faintly aggrieved) I don't know, we seem to be a little out of the way! But then, having seen all that we have, I don't really know where we're meant to go next.
They consult a map, briefly, as Watson shows his wife where they are.
Jean: I wondered why we just happened along here. And that building is it?
Watson: (faintly abashed) I only wanted to see.
Jean: (disdainful) Can I really have married a man who would sniff when he viewed the Sacré-Coeur, and call the Eiffel Tower 'clever'?
Watson: Well, it is.
Jean: (still faintly mocking) And this man would then walk half across the city of light in order to gaze upon the central criminal police station?
Watson: It is a very famous building!
Watson's interests? Apparently don't matter.
Watson: Mr. Sherlock Holmes has a got a lot to answer for.
Jean: (with distaste) Ah, he's your friend.
And then they go find a cafe.
She dislikes and disapproves of Watson's friends. His closest friend in particular. She particularly disapproves of interests that he shares with Holmes.
The third interlude has nothing of particular note other than introducing the fact that they have reached Switzerland, and a vague reference to Holmes's planned retirement in the next few years, with bees. They seem happy enough, although Jean Watson talks a bit about how Watson needs to build up his practice lots for their eventual retirement!
In the fourth and final interlude, they are still in Switzerland. There is a waterfall! It is impressive! They enjoy the view!
And then some Frenchman investigator comes over, recognising Watson from his work with Holmes even if Watson has never met the guy, and fanboys at him for a moment.
Guy: A pilgrim, you could say.
Jean: Why in the world here?
Guy: To see, with my own eyes, the famed Reichenbach Falls!
Jean: (startled) The Reichenbach--John!
Guy: Which your husband, madame, has done so much to make famous!
Jean: (pointedly) These are... the Reichenbach Falls?!
Watson: Yes.
Guy: (oblivious to the lover's tiff in front of him) To see where my admired confrère struggled with the infamous professor! To fall, apparently, to the death of both of them!
Jean: (snippily) Did you think I wouldn't find out?
Watson: I was about to tell you!
Guy: It is the most wonderful place, docteur!
Jean: Did you think I would mind?
Guy: It is exactly as you have described it! I can hear you now cry: Holmes! Holmes!
Watson: I wanted to lay a ghost.
To recap. On his honeymoon, Watson made a point of visiting the place where Holmes faked his death. On his honeymoon. With his wife in tow. Furthermore, his wife gets annoyed with him for wanting to visit this place that is incredibly personally significant for him.
I hate this woman.
Intensely.
She is dull, disapproves of every Bohemian inclination Watson has, wants him to be proper and respectable in every aspect, and actively discourages him to spend time with his best friend.
If I put on my slash goggles, I can easily say that she's aware of her husband's overly-strong attachment to Holmes and is jealous over it.
Watson could do so much better. :(
The series also has some of the most bizarre slashy moments ever. Mary Watson makes two references to her husband being totally in love with Sherlock Holmes, once accusing Watson of marrying her under false pretenses because obviously his heart really belongs to Holmes, not her, and once on her death bed (it's strongly implied in these that she dies of consumption/tuberculosis, actually) where she bemoans the unfair deaths of herself and Holmes as "everyone you've ever loved, John." There's also a shared drug-fueled nearly-fatal hallucination which is represented on radio by Holmes and Watson chanting together the English translation of some Wagner that Holmes was quoting at Watson earlier: "Let us die, and never part, together for the rest of time."
Today, I relistened to "The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier."
This story in itself is slightly unusual. It is one of only four stories that is not narrated in the first person by Watson, the other ones being His Last Bow (third person), The Adventures of the Mazarin Stone (also third person), and The Adventure of the Lion's Mane. Like Lion's Mane, Blanched Soldier is narrated by Holmes. Watson is not even in it.
However, apparently they felt the need to get Michael Williams in there somewhere. How better else to do it than explain his absence and give us updates on his progress? Watson is not present, because Watson is on his honeymoon.
In the original story, Holmes says early on that:
The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone.
Since this is 1903, Mary is long since dead. So yes, there seems to be some indication that Watson remarried around this time, especially as another story or two of this era has Watson living away from Baker street. This wife is never named in canon, nor even mentioned aside from this one sulky mention in this one story.
This wife is actually one of the few things I dislike about this series. Jean Watson is the most boring woman in the world. I predict nothing but doom for this marriage, seriously. In an early episode, Watson says of Jean that she's not adventurous like Mary was. This is a vast understatement.
The episode opens up just after Watson's wedding has taken place. He and Holmes are standing about outside chatting. Holmes announces at one point that he has a handful of confetti! Jean comes over to join them, Holmes congratulates them, and Watson asks if he'll be coming to the wedding breakfast.
Holmes: Alas, no.
Watson: (puzzled) Oh.
Holmes: (flippant) I'm sorry.
Watson: (suddenly very interested) A case?
Jean: (faintly warningly) John.
And the subject is suddenly, totally, and completely dropped. By everyone.
What is this? While Mary actively encouraged Watson to run off with Holmes at the drop of a hat, understanding how important it is, Jean discourages him from even asking about the work? This does not bode well. I cannot agree.
They say goodbye, and the Watsons head off to breakfast, and then to depart on their honeymoon.
The mystery begins soon after this. The mystery in Blanched Soldier is faintly slashy in itself, actually. The client, Mr. James Dodd, is a soldier, freshly returned from South Africa. He has a great, very dear friend of his, another former soldier, who was wounded in the line of battle and returned home.
"We formed a friendship -- the sort of friendship which can only be made when one lives the same life and shares the same joys and sorrows. He was my mate -- and that means a good deal in the Army."
They wrote to each other a good deal, when his friend's letters suddenly stopped altogether. He called upon his friend's home, where his friend's parents treated him brusquely and refused to tell him what had become of their son, nor why he had stopped writing, or give him explanations that don't fit.
"Many people, Mr. Dodd," said he, "would take offence at your infernal pertinacity and would think that this insistence had reached the point of damned impertinence."
"You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son."
Really, the whole story is basically this guy Dodd freaking out because his friend stopped writing him and going nuts because his friend's parents won't tell him the truth, and he's seen him, for god's sake, he's right here. It is definitely a very. Close. Friendship.
Which is very interesting when combined with this story which Holmes opens by alluding to Watson deserting him. Certainly they've lived the same life, shared the same joys and sorrows. No one can deny that.
Anyway.
During this adaptation of Blanched Soldier, we are given periodic updates on the Watsons On Honeymoon.
Why? No freaking idea. But it doesn't bode well, in my mind.
The first interlude has them on the boat to the continent for they European train. Jean Watson is terribly seasick.
Jean: Don't try to cheer me up! I just thank goodness the rest of our European tour... will be by train.
Watson: Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to lie down?
Jean: Oh, no, John, no John...
Watson: You're not doing too badly, you know! Even some of the crew are looking a bit green.
Jean: (crossly) If you can't find anything more helpful to say--!
Watson: (quickly) I'm sorry. It won't be too long now.
It's the way Watson responds with that hasty apology that gets to me. It's not attempting to be consoling, it's not 'I'm sorry, I'll let you be.' It's almost 'oh god, please don't be angry with me.' Like a kicked dog. It's... not good.
The next interlude has them in Paris, city of romance! As the newlyweds wander the streets, they encounter a poster.
Watson: Hm, Bel Ami. We could see that this evening.
Jean: What is it, John?
Watson: It's, ah, a theatrical spectacle.
Jean: (pointedly) I did manage to construe that from the poster!
Watson: It's from Maupassant's novel.
Jean: Wasn't that meant to be rather... daring?
Watson: Not for Paris!
Jean: (distastefully) I think I'd rather not, John, if you don't mind.
Watson: Tea, then? There must be somewhere close.
Jean: (faintly aggrieved) I don't know, we seem to be a little out of the way! But then, having seen all that we have, I don't really know where we're meant to go next.
They consult a map, briefly, as Watson shows his wife where they are.
Jean: I wondered why we just happened along here. And that building is it?
Watson: (faintly abashed) I only wanted to see.
Jean: (disdainful) Can I really have married a man who would sniff when he viewed the Sacré-Coeur, and call the Eiffel Tower 'clever'?
Watson: Well, it is.
Jean: (still faintly mocking) And this man would then walk half across the city of light in order to gaze upon the central criminal police station?
Watson: It is a very famous building!
Watson's interests? Apparently don't matter.
Watson: Mr. Sherlock Holmes has a got a lot to answer for.
Jean: (with distaste) Ah, he's your friend.
And then they go find a cafe.
She dislikes and disapproves of Watson's friends. His closest friend in particular. She particularly disapproves of interests that he shares with Holmes.
The third interlude has nothing of particular note other than introducing the fact that they have reached Switzerland, and a vague reference to Holmes's planned retirement in the next few years, with bees. They seem happy enough, although Jean Watson talks a bit about how Watson needs to build up his practice lots for their eventual retirement!
In the fourth and final interlude, they are still in Switzerland. There is a waterfall! It is impressive! They enjoy the view!
And then some Frenchman investigator comes over, recognising Watson from his work with Holmes even if Watson has never met the guy, and fanboys at him for a moment.
Guy: A pilgrim, you could say.
Jean: Why in the world here?
Guy: To see, with my own eyes, the famed Reichenbach Falls!
Jean: (startled) The Reichenbach--John!
Guy: Which your husband, madame, has done so much to make famous!
Jean: (pointedly) These are... the Reichenbach Falls?!
Watson: Yes.
Guy: (oblivious to the lover's tiff in front of him) To see where my admired confrère struggled with the infamous professor! To fall, apparently, to the death of both of them!
Jean: (snippily) Did you think I wouldn't find out?
Watson: I was about to tell you!
Guy: It is the most wonderful place, docteur!
Jean: Did you think I would mind?
Guy: It is exactly as you have described it! I can hear you now cry: Holmes! Holmes!
Watson: I wanted to lay a ghost.
To recap. On his honeymoon, Watson made a point of visiting the place where Holmes faked his death. On his honeymoon. With his wife in tow. Furthermore, his wife gets annoyed with him for wanting to visit this place that is incredibly personally significant for him.
I hate this woman.
Intensely.
She is dull, disapproves of every Bohemian inclination Watson has, wants him to be proper and respectable in every aspect, and actively discourages him to spend time with his best friend.
If I put on my slash goggles, I can easily say that she's aware of her husband's overly-strong attachment to Holmes and is jealous over it.
Watson could do so much better. :(