They're Okay!

It occurs to me, in looking over the contents of this latest issue, that we may be reporting on Holmes and Watson outside of the Canon substantially more than inside the Canon. Now, being editor-in-chief and all, I can’t really complain about a mix of material that I was responsible for putting in here. We’ve got some good stuff, and variety is our spice of life.

But I also know that there are a few of you who haven’t touched your Doubleday Complete in the last two months. You’re looking in The Holmes & Watson Report for a status check on how the deductive duo is doing in that pocket universe we call the Canon. A little gossip on how many wives Watson is currently supporting, a little insight on the Holmes infiltration of the Milverton estate, or just any news of that time and place we all know so well. It’s probably not your fault that you missed your USACD requirement of Canonical reading, after all, and busy, on-the-go Sherlockians often need a dietary supplement of Canonical nutrients. For those of you in need of such an easy-to-take capsule of Canonical news, here’s the short-and-sweet:

In “Stock-Broker’s Clerk”: Somewhere in the Paddington district, Dr. Watson spends the post-breakfast moments of a June morning with his feet up, reading the British Medical Journal. The rocking chair next to him is empty, as his wife is upstairs preparing for her day. A four-wheeler pulls up to the curb outside with Sherlock Holmes and Hall Pycroft inside.

In “Five Orange Pips”: In the heart of a late September storm, Dr. Watson stays close to the fire in the Baker Street hearth, reading a tale of the sea by Clark Russell. His wife is out of town at her mother’s, and Sherlock Holmes is stocking up his parallel case supply with a little cross-indexing.

In “Noble Bachelor”: Another rainy, windy autumn day on Baker Street finds Watson stretched out across two easy chairs, reading newspapers. His wife-to-be is somewhere in London preparing for their wedding, while Sherlock Holmes strolls the rainy streets looking for those nameless things no one cared to give us details on.

Okay, now what have you learned from this three-dose application of Canonical data?

Possible Lesson One: Let your spouse wander off, find something for your best friend to do, and you might get some time to read.

Possible Lesson Two: When Watson’s wife is in the house, he studies medicine. When she’s gone, he reads fiction. When he’s still trying to keep her on the hook, he studies current events.

Possible Lesson Three: Sherlock Holmes, seemingly despondent at Watson’s upcoming marriage, takes walks in the rain. Was Mary Morstan the woman he loved but could never have?

Possible Lesson Four: Watson was a man in dire need of the invention of the reclining chair. He’ll do anything to get his feet up.

Possible Lesson Five: It doesn’t rain when Watson’s in Paddington. So why is it Paddington Bear is always wearing that raincoat?

Definite Lesson Number One: When you leave the Canon and start talking about Paddington Bear, it’s time to turn off the logical synthesis machine. It’s overheating.

With that, we close our Canonical dietary supplement with a reminder to all you H&WR readers who didn’t intake the right amount of Canon these last two months: supplements are no substitute for proper nutritional habits. Let your spouse wander off, give your best friend something to do, and read the Canon.

— The Editor-In-Chief

P.S. The existence of this issue is largely due to Mrs. Editor-In-Chief, who went far beyond her normal editing chores during my little back malfunction. A month in bed is a real publication-killer, but thanks to Kathy the issue still made it out on schedule. Give her a pat on the back next time you see her.