It’s late, this week is still terrible, and I’ve got some time to consider a question that has been much on my mind of late: why is it that I love watching Jeremy Brett handle paper? I’m taking it up now partly because it was always my intention, after finishing the rewatch, to write up a post about why Jeremy Brett was the definitive 20th century Sherlock Holmes. But every time I start such a post, I think, oh what’s the point, it’s all already been said, by myself even, and anyway there’s too much. I’ve formulated a hypothesis, though, which is that if I can explain why Brett’s interaction with paper is so important to my enjoyment of this show, I will probably in the process be demonstrating what it was that made his Sherlock Holmes so unique and indelible. So follow me, friends, while I unfold my crackpot theories about the romance of the material text and how it binds us to the Master Paper-Handler.
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if sherlock can repress the memory of eurus existing so can I
they need to invent a summer that isnt warm. i yearn for antarctica
I want to break free since 1893
all's well that ends well (watson, get rid of him)
i love 2 bark i love 2 woof
i love 2 stomp my puppy hoof
give him a puzzle & watch him dance
Grandmas were so right about puzzles and knitting and crocheting and solitaire and reading slow and slippers and baking and watching deer in the backyard send post
Interesting, that soldier fellow. He could be the making of my brother. Or make him worse than ever.
I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having. An enemy. If you were to ask him, he’d probably say his arch-enemy.
Sherlock Holmes adaptations: he was cold and distant from the entire world; an unemotional calculating machine.
The guy they're talking about: