Meta: A Scandal in the Blogosphere

[magnetic_pole]

Last night while watching the new Sherlock episode, I found myself wondering how a show produced today might have gender politics that are even more disturbing to me than the late-Victorian short story it was based on (A Scandal in Bohemia, 1891). Then I remembered, my dear reader, that for years Sherlock Holmes scholars have wrestled secretly with alternate editions of many of the original stories, choosing to keep the more openly misogynist Holmes from a judgmental public which might, in these more enlightened times, chose to condemn Holmes and his creator for their bigotry rather than understand the motivations behind it. I risk a Scandal in the Blogosphere by sharing one of these highly guarded alternate versions with you, but after reading it, you may be able to better understand the historical accuracy of the adaptation we saw last night.



Taken from the hand-written notes of Arthur Conan Doyle, found in a file marked "Alternative Characterizations:"

To Sherlock, there are only women. I have seldom heard him mention any by name. In his eyes, gender eclipses and predominates; the feminine sex suggests only frailty, partiality, and irrationality. All emotions, but those particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise, but admirably masculine mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine, but as a man of empathy or insight into half the human race, he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the second sex save with a gibe and a sneer. Women were essential things in the detective’s work--common reasons for other men’s motive and actions. But for him to admit such intrusions into his own finely adjusted life might throw a doubt upon all his masculine results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than an intelligent women in a life such as his. He had a mother figure, who withstood his rudeness, and an admirer, whose usefulness outweighed the annoyance she aroused in him. There was but one other woman whose name I remember him mentioning, and that was of the twice-fridged femme fatale Irene Adler, whose feminine independence and intelligence vanished in the face of his masculine skepticism. With her story, we begin...

[The officially sanctioned version, if you care to compare, my dear reader, can be found here.]

Other excellent ruminations about the way in which Irene/gender/sex/emotion/vulnerability get hopelessly confused in this episode:

Meta:

Is Sherlock sexist? Steven Moffat's wanton women by Jane Clare Jones in the Guardian
Am I a real person? Stephen Moffat says…no by The Idiot Box at wordpress
Irene Adler: how to butcher a brilliant woman character, by stavvers at wordpress
Sherlock (episode reaction) by forthwritten
Sherlocked: The Humiliation of Irene Adler by blogwasred.wordpress.com

Fic:

Goodbye, Irene by marysutherland

Comments

[busaikko]

... I take it that, for the sake of my blood pressure, I should not be watching this show. Or reading the posts of squee that are undoubtedly popping up like mushrooms. I was just this morning re-reading your wonderful dissection of the first BBC Sherlock series; always a delight ♥

[magnetic_pole]

I was just saying to SR right now that I've got to learn to stop watching, no matter how much I love the original stories or characters.

The first half wasn't nearly as bad (along these lines) as the second, but it's awfully hard to turn off midway. *smooch* M.

[busaikko]

I gave up watching Hawaii 5-0 and Supernatural, and I find it's getting easier to Just Say No (to problematic shows I find rage-worthy when the rest of the fandom just wants to talk about the pretty people). *strengthens resolution*

[magnetic_pole]

This is very wise, B. *nods* M.

[delphi]

I'm laughing very hard because otherwise I might cry.

[magnetic_pole]

Some day we're going to look back on this decade or so like we look back on the fifties, and say "How did they live like that?" I hope. M.

[delphi]

I hope so. I actually caught myself being ridiculously pleased today when the badass middle-aged female mentor on a show I was enjoying made it a whole two episodes before getting killed off.

[magnetic_pole]

Ah, the small pleasures of life... Diminished expectations, diminished rage! M.

[elsane]

I...wish I could say I was shocked. It seems like a general pattern: reboots seem to do worse, perhaps since they're intrinsically looking backwards rather than forwards. (I'm thinking of Trek, in particular.) But anything that fancies itself in dialogue with Doyle's Holmes seems to come out either angrily feminist in tone (like Mary Russell) or absolutely god-awful on privilege issues (House, I am looking at you).

Maybe we can hope this is reactionary pendulum swing? (look, a straw! Let me clutch it!)

[magnetic_pole]

Ah, I haven't read Mary Russell! Hm. The reboot issue is really interesting--alluding to the original may take the show creators off the hook, so to speak. And in fact, folks may be watching the reboot specifically to enjoy ideas and emotions that no longer seem socially acceptable [see: Mad Men]. But I also think there's something very culturally specific about the particular kind of hipster sexism and male privilege we're seeing right now. (The positive side to which is the sheer number of men I'm seeing, of all races and classes, acting as caregivers to their children, affectionately and in public). M.

[boundbooks]

randomly here through linkage around DW! :D

Hm, I actually never read the Mary Russell books as angrily feminist in tone. I quite like them, and they're definitely not books I'd label as angrily feminist.

I'd say that the central character, Mary Russell is definitely a feminist and that the she's certainly angry about sexism, but I don't really read the overall books as being so. I really would have considered them straight-up modern mystery novels that were set during the 1910s 1920s. :)

[elsane]

Oh, no, you're totally right, angry is the wrong word. (I realized that as soon as I logged off -- I'm sorry! it was late! I was tired!) I meant pointedly, rather than angrily. The books are pointedly feminist insofar as the point of the main character is to be exactly the kind of rational person Holmes is. Speaking as someone who identifies very strongly with this kind of female character, which is incredibly difficult to find in literature, I love this to death.

I'd call them adventures rather than mysteries. But otherwise, I agree with you entirely. :)

[forthwritten]

Oh, I like it.

[magnetic_pole]

Thanks for reading, F! M.

[liseuse]

This is awesome!

I really enjoyed the first half of Sherlock, and then got all eyebrow-raise-y at it. That was some amazing character assassination. *pout*

[magnetic_pole]

It really was, wasn't it? And while there were problems with the first half (Sherlock's inability to deduce anything from a naked woman, for one, which was a bit ridiculous), it wasn't so bad as long as they stuck to the original story. After that... Gah! So annoyed. M.

[stewardess]

While I was watching season 2 episode 1, I was entranced by the pretty camera angles and music. But the more I think about it, the worse I feel. Irene Adler, in canon, DID outsmart Holmes, and did not need his help to protect herself.

What I loathe most about this particular Irene Adler reboot is how they made her *nurturing* to Holmes (bringing back the coat). I wouldn't have been surprised if the show writers had had her sing him a damn lullaby in that moment.

Apparently Holmes is so awesome the women he ignores (Molly), treats rudely (Molly and Mrs. Hudson), and doesn't know jack about how to please (Irene) all find him irresistible.

Unless Sally shoots him in the leg at some point, I don't see how I can continue watching the show.

[magnetic_pole]

Gah! I'm starting to get bothered by things I didn't even notice while watching the show originally. Why was Irene in such danger (and in such need of (male) "protection") in the second half of the show at all? She's smart and elusive--how do we even get to the point where she say she won't last six months without the help of someone else? Moriarty hasn't forgotten about Sherlock, and he's not very bothered. The very assumption of the plot is that she's vulnerable in a way the major male schemers (Sherlock, Moriarty, Mycroft) are not.

I can't bear to watch the ritual humiliation of Molly and Mrs Hudson (and perhaps Sally, if they bring her back). Gah! *unhappy* M.

[stewardess]

Yes! In the original story, Irene is harassed by a foreign royal family because the royal is about to make a good marriage and wants to keep Irene from interfering. But Irene has no intention of interfering; she's engaged to be married herself. Holmes, who is approached by the royal family, figures out the royal family is creepy, that Irene is not a blackmailer, and admires her. She never needs his help; she solves the problem herself.

But the Sherlock show makes the royal family in question British instead of Germanic-Bohemian. That fucked everything up, because the show writers/producers were apparently unwilling to portray the British royal family as evil arseholes trying to wreck Irene's life. So the show simply ignores the nature of, and the source of, the danger to Irene. Result: huge holes in plot and characterization.

What's really driving me bats is the dead bodies on the plane. Since all the people were already officially dead, how the flock could the presence of their bodies/DNA at a plane crash site convince anyone of anything? They can't officially die twice. When there is a major plane crash, especially one caused by a bomb, the dead people are the subject of intense interest: everyone they ever knew is interviewed, etc. ARgh! *head explodes*