One thing that surprised me about The Sign of Four is its brevity – only 76 pages in my Complete Sherlock Holmes. But I think this shows a somewhat more disciplined approach by Doyle, and also perhaps a growing awareness that “less is more” which leads to the success of the short stories. It’s still not as tight as it could be – once again the actual mystery, which is literally a locked-room murder, gets rather sidelined in the tale of dangerous foreigners coming to disrupt London to gain an ancient revenge, though this time they are thieves from the East (and in fact, of the two only one is actually foreign, it is the other who is actually the thief, and it is really the conveniently dead English fathers, Sholto and Morstan, who are the villains) rather than religious fanatics from the West.
There’s a lot of family in this short book. We start with Watson and his brother, then we encounter the Morstans, the Sholtos, and Jonathan Small and his adopted family of fellow conspirators with the child-like Tonga (very small; can’t talk properly; er, also kills people with a blowpipe – I admit the analogy is not perfect). The book ends with the establishment of a new family as Watson gets engaged to Mary Morstan, who he has known for, what, two days? Of course, the point is to increase the dramatic effect as the reader imagines his or her normal family life being disrupted by the mistakes of previous generations, but I found it striking.
Sherlock Holmes has no family. (Mycroft and Vernet are in the future.) For him, as he says at the end, “there still remains the cocaine-bottle.” I can’t think of another novel which portrays the use of cocaine in such a positive light – “so transcendently stimulating and clarifying to the mind”. In fact, I can’t think of many novels about drug use at all, other than Philip K. Dick, William S. Burroughs, and Hunter S. Thompson, and even their more enthusiastic moments have a conscious sense of self-destruction about them. Again, Doyle is more subversive than I had realised. (And he has another, if briefer, go at the cosy relationship between the media and the police.)
I’m finding more in these than I had expected to. On to the classic short stories next.
Edited to add: new userpic is from a letter written by Arthur Conan Doyle to my distant cousin Frederic.)
I live in one of the areas where we had an uncontested race. You either have to vote for the one person offered–choose a paper ballot and write in a candidate, or abstain, so the results are not a clear picture of what people want–it’s just what we’re stuck with in a small area where those with more money or who the majroity of the people in a distric can identify with. If we’re going to keep this method, we who are voters have to be outspoken at the polling place about wanting other options. After all there were thirteen, not Two Candidates for President, and that two percent of votes that Mister Romney did not get did not go the President but to those other candidates–known unfairly as “Other”.