An Explanation
by Maxwell Gabriel Neiman the Second
In finally publishing the manuscript I have had in my ownership for so many years, I have been apprehensive. When I first proposed the notion of these diaries to the world of Sherlock Holmes scholarship, I was laughed at. Recently, however, when I them to some of our foremost experts on the Master, they saw that I do indeed have claim to one of the last unknown Watsonian manuscripts. Abruptly, their attitude changed from amusement into fear, and finally into anger.
I realize that in true followers of the Master the notion of Holmes having any sort of romance creates a strong visceral reaction. I was once of this opinion myself. However, the papers that have come before me are without a doubt authentic, and contain a tale that, as Holmes himself writes, is without a doubt a love story.
My discovery of these papers came in 2001, when I traveled to the Master's house in Sussex so that I might complete some vital research for my newest book. (I have since forgotten that book in favor of proving the truth of this new manuscript.) The house is now, of course, and was then closed off from tours by order of the Watson estate, which had inherited the house and grounds upon Holmes's death. However, when I made rather a nuisance of myself by sending several long letters, I was able to explore the house under strict supervision by an escort.
These papers, I found buried in what was once the back garden, safeguarded in a small metal chest covered in rotting leather. On the leather of the lid was engraved in fading gilt letters, "To Doctor John Hamish Watson upon the Christmas of 1917, from his friend Sherlock Holmes." Within, I found two books of sorts. One was bound in linen, likewise rotting from age, and had plainly been taken care of far more that the other, which was leather bound, also rotting, and had pages spilling out every which way. The linen bound proved to be a genuine Watsonian manuscript, the handwriting if not the style corroborating in every way with the good Doctor's usual manner. The leather bound, however, was something even more precious and rare. Unlike the Watsonian manuscript, which was written in plain black ink on plain white paper, the leather bound seemed to have been written rather haphazardly on whatever came to hand. There were restaurant bills with scribbling on the backs. There was a piece of what appeared to be royal stationery from some unknown kingdom, and there were types of ink ranging from the very shoddy black British ink the writer seemed to have preferred to the ink used for Japanese calligraphy.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. It was a manuscript by the Master, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, himself. Imagine my surprise. Imagine the far greater surprise of my escort when he returned from his bathroom break to find me digging up the back garden. The manuscript seems to date from 1891, the time of Holmes's supposed death, and although itdoes recount events that happened almost a decade previously, it also gives us some insight into the time he spent wandering the world during the so called lost years. The Watsonian manuscript also dates from 1891, and follows much the same pattern of reminiscence.
I realize the controversy that this new revelation will inspire among my fellow scholars of the Master. However, I believe the advice Holmes gives us in his first entry is perfectly sound. You must at least take this tale to be true, and whether you turn away from the doctor and detective or revere them all the more for the moral adversity they faced together, you must read it if you recognize them as two human beings.
We scholars idealize Sherlock Holmes, naturally, and so we should, for he was a hero, and remains to us a hero. Too often in the world, however, heroes are denied their humanity, and if we care for him, we must not deny him that.
On the first page of the linen bound Watsonian manuscript is the word "Reichenbach," in the Doctor's distinctive handwriting. It is unclear if he meant it as a title, for it is certain he never meant the manuscript to be published Clearly, however, Holmes believed it was a title of sorts, for beside it, as though to add a subtitle, he seems to have written the words, "A Love Story." It is perhaps not the sort of phrase we would accredit to Holmes, but the handwriting is undoubtedly his own. For this reason I have given the manuscript this name, as I believe it was intended to some extent, if not by the doctor, than certainly by Holmes. I have also organized the entries into chapters, which I have taken the liberty of titling. After all, a love story is a love story, and should not be a purely scholarly venture. I believe any who peruse these writings with an open mind will be struck by the unrelentingly honest and human quality of the sentiments expressed herein. In other words, this is not only a document to be analyzed and puzzled over by stodgy old Oxbridge dons. It is a love story. Take it as it is.