The Holmes & Watson Report

My old and elusive friend, the bearkin rug from 221B, would never e-mail where a telegram would suffice. His latest communique was a simple “Tell them of the Persian slipper . . . the only existing evidence of Sherlock Holmes’s one true love.”

Well, I’d be happy to tell you all about that Persian slipper . . . provided, of course, that someone would tell me the details first. The bearskin rug is forgetful about such trivialities. I have to wonder, though, do we need any more evidence of Holmes’s “one” true love? A glance at this issue’s table of contents may cause you to answer in the negative. But then again, gossip may just be your cup of tea.

Sherlock Holmes is not only the world’s first and foremost consulting detective. He also seems to be Victorian England’s most eligible bachelor. Everybody wants to fix Holmes up with their favorite female.

It’s a long tradition, too. At the turn of the century, a near mythical interchange took place — probably the first recorded instance of a Sherlockian matchmaker at work. William Gillette, a fellow very fond of a certain detective, allowed himself and Watson’s agent to be used as go-betweens passing the cabled message “MAY I MARRY HOLMES?” from a hopeful American actress. Unfortunately, Watson’s literary agent was rather irritated with Holmes that day and does not seem to have passed the message on, simply replying, “MARRY HIM OR MURDER HIM OR DO WHAT YOU LIKE WITH HIM.”

But Gillette wouldn’t be the last Sherlockian to try finding a mate for Holmes. Rather than fix Sherlock Holmes up with a woman from the outside world, author Rex Stout tried fixing Watson (quite literally) to serve as Mrs. Sherlock Holmes by claiming the good doctor was a woman. Why he didn’t just take the already-female Mrs. Hudson to serve as Holmes’s in-house-spouse at 221B, we shall never know for sure. (Perhaps fear of Mr. Hudson turning up alive.)

Screenwriters have taken up the gauntlet as well, supplying Holmes with such love interests as Madame Valladon in “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes,” Elizabeth in “Young Sherlock Holmes,” and the ever-present Irene Adler in “Sherlock Holmes in New York.”

But why am I prattling on about all this, you ask? Well, perhaps I’m just using the schoolboy excuse of “They started it!” to cover my own transgressions in proposing Maud Bellamy as the latest claimant to Holmes’s heart. Or perhaps gossiping about Holmes’s love life is just plain fun.

I hope the latter is the truth, in which case you’re in for a bit of fun this issue. (And by the way, Maud Bellamy still kicks Irene’s butt! Sorry . . . had to get that out of my system.)

— The Editor

P.S. For those of you who have been wondering what the staff guitarist here at The Holmes & Watson Report does, about halfway through the preceding column, he phoned and played his guitar a bit for me. He was practicing for an upcoming Sherlockian song contest, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t on the job as staff guitarist. Other Sherlockian publications should be so lucky.

P.P.S. And speaking of the terrific staff here at The Holmes & Watson Report, the typo control team has informed me that I should notify the readership of my occasional violation of rules of grammar and publishing under the guise of “house style” within these pages. As I’ve said earlier, all blame rests with me. Having good counsel and following it are two very separate things.

P.P.P.S. For those who notice, Dr. Watson’s column took the name “Dr. Watson’s First Report” in the first two issues and “Dr. Watson’s Third Report” this issue. My apologies to the good doctor for that slip back in issue two.