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sherlock60[This is a slightly revised repost from Round 4.]
This week we’re having a look at The Yellow Face.
"Nothing has more individuality, save perhaps watches and bootlaces.” Well, we see a watch being examined in SIGN, but any thoughts on the individuality of bootlaces?
He was well but quietly dressed in a dark-grey suit, and carried a brown wideawake in his hand. You can see a description and an illustration of a wideawake hat here.
"My dear Mr. Grant Munro—" began Holmes. Damn you ACD and your frustratingly ambiguous compound names! (*breathes into paper bag*) Is “Grant” a first name or part of his surname? And if Grant is his first name, why does his wife call him “Jack”? And why is he writing his name inside his hat anyway? Were wideawakes that popular in Victorian England?
“We have not had a difference, not one, in thought or word or deed.” Hmm… In three years? This seems so unlikely. The happiest of couples have disagreements. Is Mrs. Munro trying to be on her best behaviour, as it were?
“She went out to America when she was young…” I wonder what the circumstances were. Did she go with her parents? Did they reject her when she married her first husband, and remain in America when she came back to England? Mrs. Munro only says “I cut myself off from my race in order to wed him” but it’s possible that could include family members.
“This sickened her of America, and she came back to live with a maiden aunt at Pinner…” I can understand Mrs. Munro wanting to go back to her native country. But why didn’t she wait until her daughter was well enough to travel? Though perhaps her grief for her husband was so all-consuming, she temporarily didn’t feel able to care for her daughter—either emotionally or physically. So she passed the care onto someone she trusted. Or maybe after experiencing the death of her husband she was terrified her daughter might still relapse and die, and she dealt with the fear by running away.
“When we married, my wife made over all her property to me…” What an odd thing for Mrs. Munro to do. She didn’t have to do it, and her husband didn’t want her to do it. And she has a daughter to support. (Unless she sorted out the financial situation for her daughter before she left America—it’s just that didn’t include enough money for travelling to England.) Was it guilt? Was she trying to prove to herself how much she was committed to her new marriage, even though she was lying to her husband?
"Yes. There's blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken." And Holmes is much mistaken. Why does he so quickly jump to the wrong conclusion? He’s going against his own methods by coming up with a theory before having all the data.
There was a portrait within of a man strikingly handsome and intelligent-looking, but bearing unmistakable signs upon his features of his African descent. It was our misfortune that our only child took after his people rather than mine... But dark or fair, she is my own dear little girlie, and her mother's pet. This is a bit of an uncomfortable read for the modern reader. Watson seems to be implying that John Hebron was handsome and intelligent despite his ancestry. And Mrs. Munro seems to be implying she loves her daughter despite the colour of her skin. But perhaps by “our misfortune” she means that she is aware how much more difficult life is going to be for Lucy—looking white would open more doors for her. We have to remember how brave Mrs. Munro was in choosing to marry her first husband in the social situation at the time—she would want things to be easier for her daughter.
Holmes, with a laugh, passed his hand behind the child's ear, a mask peeled off from her countenance, and there was a little coal-black negress, with all her white teeth flashing in amusement at our amazed faces. It has to be said that Lucy is an astoundingly easygoing and well-adjusted child. Her father died and she was seriously ill. Then she was separated from her mother. (How old is Lucy? She apparently still remembers and loves her mother three and a half years later.) And then she was taken away from her home to a faraway country, where she was kept inside and made to wear a mask and gloves. But she’s still cheerful and outgoing.
He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door. It’s such a moving reaction from Munro. He has just had the shock of being presented with a stepdaughter he thought was dead—I think it would have been perfectly understandable if he’d asked for a few days to come to terms with things, leaving Lucy in the cottage. But he embraces his responsibilities immediately, and with such affection.
So, what about Lucy’s future? She’s been separated from her mother for a long time, and her stepfather is a stranger. How will she adjust to her new circumstances? Her parents will be loving but after all this time, she must to a certain extent consider her nurse her mother. And what about her adulthood? (You may like to take a look at our Black Victorians post.) I like to think though that Lucy’s skin will make her a novelty rather than an outsider, and her middle-class background and the fact her mother and stepfather have white skin will give her some protection against prejudice. Her first father was “strikingly handsome” and a lawyer, so I can imagine Lucy growing up to be beautiful (which, let’s face it, does make a difference in how you’re treated) and intelligent. And she seems so resilient. I can imagine her making a real success of her life, despite any limitations other people try to put on her.
"Watson," said he, "if it should ever strike you that I am getting a little over-confident in my powers, or giving less pains to a case than it deserves, kindly whisper 'Norbury' in my ear, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you." I wonder if Watson ever did…
This week we’re having a look at The Yellow Face.
"Nothing has more individuality, save perhaps watches and bootlaces.” Well, we see a watch being examined in SIGN, but any thoughts on the individuality of bootlaces?
He was well but quietly dressed in a dark-grey suit, and carried a brown wideawake in his hand. You can see a description and an illustration of a wideawake hat here.
"My dear Mr. Grant Munro—" began Holmes. Damn you ACD and your frustratingly ambiguous compound names! (*breathes into paper bag*) Is “Grant” a first name or part of his surname? And if Grant is his first name, why does his wife call him “Jack”? And why is he writing his name inside his hat anyway? Were wideawakes that popular in Victorian England?
“We have not had a difference, not one, in thought or word or deed.” Hmm… In three years? This seems so unlikely. The happiest of couples have disagreements. Is Mrs. Munro trying to be on her best behaviour, as it were?
“She went out to America when she was young…” I wonder what the circumstances were. Did she go with her parents? Did they reject her when she married her first husband, and remain in America when she came back to England? Mrs. Munro only says “I cut myself off from my race in order to wed him” but it’s possible that could include family members.
“This sickened her of America, and she came back to live with a maiden aunt at Pinner…” I can understand Mrs. Munro wanting to go back to her native country. But why didn’t she wait until her daughter was well enough to travel? Though perhaps her grief for her husband was so all-consuming, she temporarily didn’t feel able to care for her daughter—either emotionally or physically. So she passed the care onto someone she trusted. Or maybe after experiencing the death of her husband she was terrified her daughter might still relapse and die, and she dealt with the fear by running away.
“When we married, my wife made over all her property to me…” What an odd thing for Mrs. Munro to do. She didn’t have to do it, and her husband didn’t want her to do it. And she has a daughter to support. (Unless she sorted out the financial situation for her daughter before she left America—it’s just that didn’t include enough money for travelling to England.) Was it guilt? Was she trying to prove to herself how much she was committed to her new marriage, even though she was lying to her husband?
"Yes. There's blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken." And Holmes is much mistaken. Why does he so quickly jump to the wrong conclusion? He’s going against his own methods by coming up with a theory before having all the data.
There was a portrait within of a man strikingly handsome and intelligent-looking, but bearing unmistakable signs upon his features of his African descent. It was our misfortune that our only child took after his people rather than mine... But dark or fair, she is my own dear little girlie, and her mother's pet. This is a bit of an uncomfortable read for the modern reader. Watson seems to be implying that John Hebron was handsome and intelligent despite his ancestry. And Mrs. Munro seems to be implying she loves her daughter despite the colour of her skin. But perhaps by “our misfortune” she means that she is aware how much more difficult life is going to be for Lucy—looking white would open more doors for her. We have to remember how brave Mrs. Munro was in choosing to marry her first husband in the social situation at the time—she would want things to be easier for her daughter.
Holmes, with a laugh, passed his hand behind the child's ear, a mask peeled off from her countenance, and there was a little coal-black negress, with all her white teeth flashing in amusement at our amazed faces. It has to be said that Lucy is an astoundingly easygoing and well-adjusted child. Her father died and she was seriously ill. Then she was separated from her mother. (How old is Lucy? She apparently still remembers and loves her mother three and a half years later.) And then she was taken away from her home to a faraway country, where she was kept inside and made to wear a mask and gloves. But she’s still cheerful and outgoing.
He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door. It’s such a moving reaction from Munro. He has just had the shock of being presented with a stepdaughter he thought was dead—I think it would have been perfectly understandable if he’d asked for a few days to come to terms with things, leaving Lucy in the cottage. But he embraces his responsibilities immediately, and with such affection.
So, what about Lucy’s future? She’s been separated from her mother for a long time, and her stepfather is a stranger. How will she adjust to her new circumstances? Her parents will be loving but after all this time, she must to a certain extent consider her nurse her mother. And what about her adulthood? (You may like to take a look at our Black Victorians post.) I like to think though that Lucy’s skin will make her a novelty rather than an outsider, and her middle-class background and the fact her mother and stepfather have white skin will give her some protection against prejudice. Her first father was “strikingly handsome” and a lawyer, so I can imagine Lucy growing up to be beautiful (which, let’s face it, does make a difference in how you’re treated) and intelligent. And she seems so resilient. I can imagine her making a real success of her life, despite any limitations other people try to put on her.
"Watson," said he, "if it should ever strike you that I am getting a little over-confident in my powers, or giving less pains to a case than it deserves, kindly whisper 'Norbury' in my ear, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you." I wonder if Watson ever did…
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