These writings are inspired by and filtered through the lenses of the portrayals of Holmes and Watson by Jeremy Brett, Edward Hardwicke and David Burke in the Granada
RATED: G
SEE MORE OF MY FANFICTION:
www.qnet.com/~martin5/
Beginnings
30 Jan 81
JHW
Arrogant. Intelligent. Distant. Fascinating. Entertaining.
As I sit by the fire in my new digs in Baker Street, I jot down a few random impressions of my new roommate. Camp life in Her Majesty's Army schooled me to keep meticulous journals, and I find the target of my interest is my new associate, Holmes. He calls me Watson, an example of his preference for distance in personal associations. Holmes was, at first meeting, exuberant and amusing with his odd experiments and his parlour-trick introductions about my history:
"You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive!"
As the weeks have passed, I find living with him much as he described to me. He indeed plays the violin quite well. His hours are even worse than mine -- up at the most extreme times of the night and sleeping sometimes until nearly mid-day. His chemical experiments can be most foul. Certainly his arrogance knows no bounds at times, yet, his depressions are of the most dark and troublesome nature.
There is a profound loneliness within him which has deep roots. It is true intellectual people are prone to be misunderstood and alienated by others, but I sense something different here. He tightly guards his privacy and is most reticent about his past. He also harbours a distinct disdain towards women which I find inexplicable. I wonder if there was some tragedy years ago to foster these reactions.
There are times when he shuns company, including myself. In those moments I am disappointed that I have thrown in with someone so disinclined toward friendship. I myself enjoy companionship and was hoping to find a convenient friend in Holmes since my poor health and lack of funds force me to be confined to my rooms so much. Sometimes for days he will not even speak to me!
Just when I am ready to despair, however, he does something surprising, like play a string of my favourite melodies on the violin. Or he suggests a walk to the park to stretch our legs. As we walk and talk he speaks of the most amazing theories and thoughts that crowd into his mind. I get a few glimpses of the great brain and the enormous enthusiasm he keeps buried within his solitary nature. He tricks me with clever, yet interesting mental exercizes. There are other times when he tries out the most unbelievable disguises and makes a game of confounding me -- which he does regularly. In many ways he brings drama and life into my otherwise commonplace existence. More often than not, I count myself fortunate I have been drawn together with this remarkable man.