End Peace: a very different
Sherlock Holmes story. Here there is no
external narration by Watson, but a dialogue between our well-known friends,
apparently at the end of Watson’s life.
The story is set in a hospital “somewhere in Dorset” in 1929 beginning
with Holmes visiting his old companion as the good doctor lies in bed, worn out
and breathing his last.
Holmes admits that some of
his behaviour pushed their housekeeper’s patience to the limits, but refuses to
back down on other issues with Watson challenges him, including how he profited
financially from cases like The Blue
Carbuncle and The Priory School. However, Holmes praises Watson and chides him
equally for not making more of himself in his written accounts of their
adventures. What we get is an impression
of a very deep, loving friendship which has survived many difficulties, and two
men who know they may never see each other again laying open their very hearts.
It’s not all weepy; don’t get me
wrong, there are many examples where the two needle each other while going back
over the past. Holmes makes his atheism
clear, and is rather gloomy about the future of his “science of deduction”, yet
Watson is more sympathetic, recalling how his parents made no demands on him
and his brother to conform to their beliefs.
The more we hear of Watson’s idyllic childhood, the more Holmes reveals
his strong dislike of Mycroft, and openly admits he hated his father. We see here a possible explanation for his
lack of contact with women – his mother was everything to him, and we sense
that no other could measure up. He
dismisses any question of a romantic interest in Irene Adler, or any of their
female clients, including a reference to Violet Hunter of the Copper Beeches fame. Watson criticises Holmes for “dropping” her
as soon as the case was resolved. Holmes’
inhuman streak is self-inflicted; no-one may come in contact with his softer
emotions, only Watson has been privileged to see tiny flashes of kindness
throughout their association.
Meanwhile we start to realise that
things are not as they seem; as Watson tires and dozes off, we get snatches of
conversation between the nurses and the matron.
I won’t spoil the story, but here is a fine example of the author
playing with our perceptions. Don’t
believe everything you read! Suffice to
say some things we read have perhaps already taken place before the novel
begins.
The end is shocking and somewhat
depressing. I can certainly believe that
Holmes was capable of what he confesses to Watson, as the comments about his
father seem to be boiling up to a head, but as for the good doctor’s
revelation, no way! Come on, no, I can’t accept that would have been the
case. Watson is portrayed right up to
that point as the gentler, kinder partner in crime; his very Victorian
gentlemanliness is what we understand has kept Holmes from going under
altogether. Watson is tired, but he must
make things clear before he leaves the earth, as perhaps he, unlike Holmes, still fears a divine judgement to come. Holmes however is still bursting with energy,
though we begin to realise that energy might have been anger-fuelled from the
experiences in his youth within the home.
So, sorry, I take exception to this bit, it reminded me of reading the
first novel in a series from a local crime-writer and loving it until I came to
a bit that was so far-fetched I thought, no, can’t happen like that, just
cannot! However, the very, very end has
a supernatural twist that I liked. ![]() |
| BBC Watson by Kevin Bolk |
Despite the author’s own fear of
how the work will be received, I definitely give it the thumbs up, and find it
perfectly acceptable as another interpretation of the Canon, and one that few
have attempted. I defy any reader not to
recognise the Great Detective and the Good Doctor in this, it is indeed they
who speak.
One thing I found while reading
was that images of different actors would pop into my head at certain points –
Jeremy Brett where Holmes is being candid and kind, and new boy Benedict
Cumberbatch as he rails against his father, Mycroft and lauds science as his
deity! How strange! I suppose what that means is there are
flashes of modernity in there, which of course there would be for two men who
had lived through the Great War and were now aware another threatened, yet they
still remain essentially who they were in the 1880s when we first met them. This is a stunning piece of work, and I’m
glad I got the opportunity to review it.
Well done, Mr Ruffle!




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