An Objective Study in the Subjectivity of Sherlock Holmes.

To say that Sherlock Holmes – as portrayed by the delectable Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC’s hit show ‘Sherlock’ – does not feel emotions would be to do an egregious disservice to the character. This is a man who literally shoots the walls when bored, wanders about the Buckingham Palace buck naked just to spite his brother and, in The Reichenbach Fall, dramatically falls off a building to impress his friend Dr. Watson. Sherlock is anything but unemotional. What he is, is improperly emotional. He feels emotions fine, just not the ones he’s supposed to feel at any given point of time.

Yet, why is it that all of us at one time or another have connected the word ‘emotionless’ to Sherlock Holmes? Why do so many of us harbor the misconception that Mr. Holmes, perhaps the most emotionally volatile of all the show’s numerous characters, is a cold, unfeeling sociopath? We think it, not because that is what Sherlock really is, but because that is what he wants to be; how he wants the world to see him.

The question then, is why?

And the answer is pretty simple, really. 

It is not Sherlock, but Mycroft who is Irene Adler’s Iceman. It is Mycroft who is the unemotional one, at least when it comes to everything but his little brother Sherlock.

And it is big brother Mycroft who has taught Sherlock everything he knows. It is from Mycroft that Sherlock had learned the art of deduction, one of the most integral parts of his personality; Mycroft who appears as the judge and jury of his mind palace. Is it any surprise, then, that it is Mycroft’s idea of a perfect mind that Sherlock is trying so desperately to emulate, consciously or otherwise? It is not Sherlock but Mycroft who had always considered emotions to be a superfluous weakness, and for the longest time Sherlock had believed his big brother with the blind faith of a child.

It was only the advent of the proudly sentimental Dr. Watson in his life that had made Sherlock question that deeply ingrained notion for the first time. Still, old habits die hard and it will take a few seasons yet for Sherlock to come to see his emotions for what they really are: an asset to be harnessed to its full potential, rather than a liability that needs to be suppressed and denied.

Fear not, though. There is hope yet. The Season 3 episode ‘The Sign of Three’ gave us this gem of a conversation between Mycroft and Sherlock –

MYCROFT: Well, it’s the end of an era, isn’t it? John and Mary – domestic bliss.

SHERLOCK: No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter.

Mycroft smiles.

SHERLOCK: What?

MYCROFT: Nothing!

SHERLOCK: I know that silence. What?

MYCROFT: Well, I’d better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don’t you?

SHERLOCK: What?

MYCROFT: Cake, karaoke ... mingling.

SHERLOCK (angrily): Mycroft!

MYCROFT: This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don’t get involved.

SHERLOCK: Involved? I’m not involved.

MYCROFT: No.

SHERLOCK: John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?

MYCROFT: Absolutely!

SHERLOCK: I’m not involved!

MYCROFT: I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best.

SHERLOCK: I will.

MYCROFT: Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard?

SHERLOCK (angrily): I’m not a child any more, Mycroft.

MYCROFT: No, of course you’re not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock.

Loathe as he is to admit the fact, clearly Sherlock is involved, very much so. Mycroft sees it, and subconsciously so does Sherlock, though the indoctrination will take some time to wear off yet. But as Sherlock tells his brother, ‘he is not a child anymore’, and sooner or later he must emerge from under big brother’s protective psychological wings and spread his own.

Objectivity might well be Mycroft’s weapon of choice, but as Sherlock’s psychological warfare with Moriarty has proven again and again, subjectivity too can be its own kind of lethal ammunition. It takes fire to fight fire, after all, and dry logic in itself could never have defeated a mind such as Moriarty’s. It was Sherlock’s understanding of Irene’s love for him that did what Mycroft couldn’t, and saved the day – and the country – in ‘A Scandal in Belgravia’, beating the consulting criminal’s painstakingly woven plan. Sherlock, whose instinctive, sentimental protectiveness for Watson and his family put an end to the evil that was Magnussen.

Perhaps, then, the day is not far when Lestrade’s prediction will come true – and Sherlock Holmes will be not only a great man, but a good one too!

Harry Potter – The Damned Generation.

One of the most talked about topics within the Harry Potter fandom relates to the matter of the so-called 'Marauders' - to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. The four of them together - perhaps better than any other character in the novels - represent what may be called the damned generation of Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter, along with their various friends, enemies, contemporaries and associates, all had one thing in common. Can you guess what it was? Yep, I think you can-

They all had their lives destroyed in one way or another by the rise of Lord Voldemort. Some chose the destruction, and moved willingly into its fold. Others resisted it with all they had. But it was a force that engulfed them all - that eviscerated not one man but an entire generation, leaving nothing but the ashes of memory and regret in its wake.

Perhaps the most iconic, if controversial torch-bearer of that generation was Severus Snape; a man both loved and reviled with equal passion within the fandom. And perhaps fittingly, he represented to a great extent the essesntial quality of his generation, a stark juxtaposition of virtue and vice, of darkness and light. The opposite of a Voldemort or a Harry, the damned generation flourished in shades of grey.

Even Peter Pettigrew, perhaps the damndest of the damned, managed to redeem himself in his final moments by sacrificing his life to save Harry, unable to kill him during the skirmish at Malfoy Manor. If not an act of bravery - it is debatable if Wormtail was even capable of such a thing - it did show us a momentary flash of what was left of his humanity, of the silly little boy whom the Marauders had brefriended, and by whose ultimate betrayal they had fallen.

Even the other Marauders, despite the haloed position accorded to them by fandom, were wrapped from head to toe in shades of grey. Heated debates and arguments between supporters of James, Sirius and Snape have already overwhelmed the internet, so I won't bore you with that again. But their cruelty to young Severus, even if born of mere immaturity, cannot be denied - especially when contrasted against Harry's instinctive empathy for Neville Longbottom, a pathetic, sickly young man in much the same situation as Snape a few decades ago.

Yet that is perhaps what contributes most to the appeal of that generation - the unfulfilled potential, both for great good and for great evil. James' ultimate sacrifice for his family, Lily's unconditional love for her son, Sirius' unwavering loyalty to his friends and Lupin's extraordinary courage even in the face of insurmountable odds, these are the qualities that draw us to them with a magnetic force, even when we can see the doom that awaits them all. Severus, despite the petty bullying to which he subjected his unsuspecting students, died a hero, perhaps greater than all the rest put together; having saved more lives through his spying than any other member of the Order of the Phoenix. Yet his motives remained, to the end, less than noble, with him going so far as to admit to Dumbledore that he protected Harry not out of any regard for the boy himself, but only because of the obsession he still harboured for the late Lily Evans.

Prerhaps, to a great extent, that generation damned itself. The brightest lights, after all, cast the darkest shadows - and it was perhaps their brilliance that drew the darkness of Lord Voldemort upon them, shining like beacons in the dullness of unremarkable mediocrity. Whatever the reason for their rise, or the cause of their untimely fall, they will remain the brightest stars in the HP fandom's vast firmament - the ones that burned the brightest in falling.