The Zero-Point

“But, indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you, for the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from boarding schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning marks my zero-point, I fancy.”

-- Sherlock Holmes, COPP

It's comforting to know that some things never change.

The great days are always in the past. Man is always losing all enterprise and originality. our little practices degenerate into trivialities, and we all hit bottom time and again. So it was with Holmes's detective business, and so it is with being a Sherlockian.The flyer I had with today's mail marks my zero-point, I fancy.

When I first became a Sherlockian, a couple of decades ago, Sherlock Holmes was a being of the literary plane. Whenever I got Sherlockian junk mail, it usually advertised books, mystery bookstores, or periodicals. The literature of Holmes, pastiches and punfests, research and analysis -- their advertisements were only unwelcome when I'd already managed to obtain what they offered. Time went by, as it will, and things changed.

The copyright business put a cork to the flow of new Holmes fiction. Doyle scholarship gained a firm foothold, drawing some of the more serious Sherlockian minds away for a bit. And television began taking, big chomping bites out of mankind's literacy. The mail began to change. Books became offered less often. Holmes statuary and deerstalkered teapots took their place.

On they came: T-shirts and tote-bags. Australian wine and pewter chess sets. All with little Holmes silhouettes, Holmes logos, and even the occasional actual Canonical tie-in. some of it was quite good, some of it was quite expensive. And some of it . . . .

As I said, my zero-point arrived with today's mail. It was a flyer, that advertised, among other things, Sherlock Holmes potpourri.

Sherlock Holmes potpourri. Grrrr . . . .

For those of you lucky enough to have never encountered potpourri, it is a mixture of herbs and vegetable matter that, when boiled in water, produce an aromatic fragrance throughout your abode. It's not a particular favorite of mine for one simple reason -- if you don't have a potpourri appliance of some sort, it is boiled in a pan on the stove. Call me old-fashioned, but if it's on the stove in a pan, I think it should be food. And I get really testy when something I think should be food isn't food.

The Holmes potpourri I was offered today came in aromas like "Pink Lady," "Victorian Garden," "Purple Mist," and "Lavendar." What, no "Ship's"? No "Strong Shag"? Personally, I find the idea of Holmes and Watson being homosexual lovers much less offensive than the thought that Holmes would have anything to do with "Pink Lady" scented potpourri. At least if he were gay he could still retain some modicum of dignity. "Pink Lady" potpourri could destroy the great detective quicker than Professor Moriarty and a legion of Andaman tribesmen.

This is indeed my zero-point. I think it's time we all showed the world that being a Sherlockian means a little bit more than buying any gawd-awful thing with a goofy cartoon character in a deerstalker on it. Let's read. Let's discuss. Let's put our ideas on paper.

I know, that's exactly what a good many of you are doing. Don't give up. Don't burn out. Find new ways to enhance your own enjoyment of Holmes and Watson and pass them on. Remember why we're here.

We don't want to one day find ourselves sitting around blowing our noses on Sherlock Holmes facial tissues while we lament the fact that all the great Sherlockians are gone . . . you know, the ones that could read and write.

(This column appeared in the September 1992 issue of Plugs & Dottles.)