For decades, Holmes had dismissed Watson’s colorful way of
writing his series of tales. Sherlock
Holmes was a clinical writer. The
Distinction between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccos. The Variety of the Human Ear. The tracing of footsteps, with some remarks
upon the uses of plaster of Paris as a preserver of impresses. The Polyphonic Motets of Lassus. The influence of a trade upon the form of the
hand. We are expected to believe that
the writer of such monographs, some of which were said by experts to be the
last word upon the subject, is now a chronicler of detective stories? Pfft.
“The Blanched Soldier” was published in 1926. By this time, Holmes was at least twenty
years into his retirement on the Sussex Downs.
It is very unlikely that at this stage in life, around the age of 70, he
would start to record cases.
Plus, Holmes frequently credits Watson as a companion. Could we believe that he would call Watson one
“to whom the future is always a closed book”?
That seems too caustic for even Holmes.
And speaking of Watson, in BLAN Holmes says that “Watson was
enabled to produce his meretricious finales… by concealing such links in the
chain.” Holmes does the exact same thing
here by hiding his dermatologist friend until the big reveal at the end, not
letting the reader in to the necessary facts of the case. Sure Holmes has a flair for the dramatic in
real life, but none of his writings show such a manner.
According to E.W. McGinley in The Firearms of Sherlock Holmes, “anyone hit in the shoulder by an elephant
bullet should have lost his arm and a good part of his shoulder.” The fact that Emsworth was barely injured by
such a weapon seems preposterous.
And doesn’t it seem just a little too convenient that Holmes
has a dermatologist on call when he supposes that someone is suffering from
leprosy? And that Emsworth's disease could be misdiagnosed as leprosy after he had been to a leper colony? Holmes is quick to dismiss
coincidences in A Study in Scarlet, “The
Speckled Band,” and “Silver Blaze,” but when Dr. Saunders chalks Emsworth’s
diagnosis up to a coincidence, he just rolls with it.
And Dr. Saunders provides quite the happy ending here. The Canon is full of adventures that don’t
end in happy endings. “The Greek
Interpreter,” “The Five Orange Pips,” The
Valley of Fear, and “The Dancing Men” just off the top of my head. I’m sure we could brainstorm plenty
more. “The Blanched Soldier’s” fairy
tale ending is just too much to accept.
But the final nail in the coffin for me is Holmes’s maxim that
is shoehorned into the story: “That process starts upon the supposition that
when you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains,
however improbable, must be the truth.”
Holmes’s further explanation that he has ruled out crime and insanity is
pretty flimsy. Based off of the scant
evidence of James Dodd’s two fleeting glimpses of his friend and his minuscule
knowledge of the family and surrounding area, leprosy is a significant conclusion
to jump to. Whoever the author of this
story is, they wanted Holmes’s famous impossible/improbable phrase in here,
whether it made sense or not.
We are expected to believe all of these things, but “The
Blanched Soldier” falls very short of the quality of Sherlock Holmes adventure
that we have come to expect. To cover up
for this, the author has tried to convince us that it was written by Holmes
himself, which is nonsense. You may as tell
me that it was written by a failed ophthalmologist from Portsmouth. That would be just as believable.
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