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mariana-oconnor · 1 year

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The Five Orange Pips pt 1

the adventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the British bark Sophy Anderson, of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case

Another round of 'look at all the fun cases I won't be talking about today 🤣. I feel like the Amateur Mendicant Society is a bit like Neville St Clair, as mendicant means beggar, so it feels like a group of people who dress up as beggars for the fun of it. Paradol is apparently a chemical found in peppers and ginger that makes it spicy, but I have no indication of when that chemical was first named, so whotf knows what that was about.

It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and to recognize the presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilization, like untamed beasts in a cage.

I love this description. It's so extra. Also the phrase 'equinoctial gales' is lovely. Watson, you should have taken up poetry.

My wife was on a visit to her mother's, and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker Street.

Watson can't be left alone for more than a day at a time. Mary had to ask Sherlock to Watson-sit for her as she went to see her 'mother' *winkwink*. He needs enrichment in his enclosure.

He stretched out his long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and towards the vacant chair upon which a newcomer must sit.

Interrogation lighting! WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!

"You have come up from the south-west, I see." "Yes, from Horsham." "That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is quite distinctive." "I have come for advice."

Sorry, Holmes. This guy does not gaf about your creepy knowledge of clay and chalk mixes.

AH... hello racism. All the racism... So much racism. I mean, I know the story so yeah... but dear god if ever there were a literary character who deserved to die, it's this one. Fuuuuuck Elias Openshaw.

'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!'

The world's tiniest violin was unable to perform because it did not give a fuck.

" 'I wish you, John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will. I leave my estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to you. If you can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you cannot, take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest enemy."

Well that's one way to say you always hated your sibling. And also to tell your nephew you hate him too. This guy is the absolute worst in so many ways. Like he just keeps piling on more reasons that he's the worst onto the already huge steaming pile. Yes, the people hunting him are even worse, but he's still just a terrible terrible person.

We found him, when we went to search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden.

A fitting place for him to be.

No, I will not be feeling any sorrow at his passing.

I'm sorry that his brother's getting the same treatment, though. He doesn't seem like the most pleasant person in the world, but the fact he doesn't know what the initials stand for already puts him head and shoulders above his dead brother.

The attitude of his son to Elias and his war record and postwar activity doesn't exactly indicate that the pair of them are not-racist, though. But they don't appear to have actively murdered anybody or fought in order to perpetuate slavery, so... the bar is low. The bar is really really low on this one. Is there somewhere lower than the centre of the Earth's core?

And the threat of death for something they know nothing about... which, why did Elias not tell people what the fuck was going on? Why did he not...? Well, we'll get onto that bit. Just fuck Elias. Really, truly, Fuck Elias Openshaw.

#The Five Orange Pips #Letters from Watson #I know what happens later might indicate some sort of remorse on Elias' behalf #but if he was truly remorseful #well I guess I'll get into that later

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quill-of-thoth · 1 year

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Letters From Watson: The Five Orange Pips

Part 1: The Fun Bits

Whenever Watson's wife is away on a visit his response is apparently to have slumber parties with Holmes

Once again there are five undocumented cases Watson notes as occurring in the same year as this one. "The island of Uffa" is not the name of any known place, and Paradol is an aromatic chemical that appears to have been isolated fairly recently. It could be some sort of spelling butchering of Pareidolia, the human tendency to derive meaning out of random patterns, but it could also be an invented name of something.

And yet another client has been referred by word of mouth.

"I have been beaten four times [...] once by a woman" supports my idea that this is actually occurring in 1889 or 1890, since I place Scandal in Bohemia in spring of 1889.

John Openshaw's uncle Elias was a racist enslaving bastard piece of work but given that he was involved with the KKK I am not surprised.

Mandatory conversion time but Elias made 1400 pounds (142,300 pounds / 170,700 USD) or more off of his crimes against humanity.

Or he stole them from the rest of the KKK along with those papers, given that plantation owners in general did not necessarily hold on to a huge amount of their previous wealth after the civil war.

#Letters From Watson #The Five Orange Pips #at least this time the treatment of race boils down to Murderous bigots are bad people

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ineffablelvrs · 2 months

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wywaliłam paradole i mn teraz palec boli boze swiety co za okropny dzien

#zgubilam przypinke z norwidem. zjebalam kartkowke z dzumy bo nie chciałam czytać streszczenia (sama chciałam dojac do zakończenia).#kartkówki z historii nie bylo a uczyłam sie 4h. no i teraz tem cholerny palec #polishposting

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jabbage · 1 year

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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lafcadiosadventures · 1 year

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Madame Putiphar Read Along: Prologue

so it begins!! :D

(I am using the Valdemar Gótica edition in charge of Mauro Armiño, and the french text in gutenberg dot org)

Prologue

(The work is dedicated to L.P., Lucinde Paradol, an actress Petrus had loved since 1831)

The Poet sets the scene within his sombre heart. 3 Knights battle in it for its dominion, with ceasless fury. The Poet’s agonic cries only increase the knight’s bloodlust. The struggle will be lifelong, the Poet knows he has no choice in the outcome, and he knows the victory of one of the Knights will be his doom.

The knights represent a classic allegorical theme: the Three Ages of Man. But also three attitudes:

-libertinage and artistic glory,

-religious or intellectual seclusion,

-suicide, a clean death before the world and its ways forces the Poet to compromise himself

They also reflect in a general structural way, the vital paths of our characters. This pattern of the three possible paths, the three ages of men, is very ancient. In western culture we usually start with greek philosophers and matematicians considering it the perfect number, a number that encompassed the three narrative acts. It’s a recurring theme in most religions, fairy and folk tales, and mythology. It is also a number that seems to appeal to how our brains work, easing the comprehension of decades spanning events in narratives: in fairytales, we usually get 3 attempts at the same magical action before the character succeeds, in cinematic editing when a character coughs 3 times, we know the illness is grave enough to be deadly.

Closer in time to Borel, and worth mentioning since we know the author is one of his influences, there’s a Diderot book, The Skeptic’s Walk, that follows this same format. Finished in 1747 but like most of Diderot’s fiction, it was published posthumously, in 1830. In it a philosopher and his friends get lost in symbollic garden paths made of roses, thorns and chestnuts, each representing pleasures of the flesh ->roses, agonies of futile religious deprivation ->thorns, and finally chestnuts-> the wisdom of Philosophy. In a pretty anti-enlightenment move, Diderot’s character ends up running into “the type of blonde philosophers should avoid”(a line that seems out of a noir) an escapee from the path of the roses, she urges him to choose the palpable reality of sensual joys. He agrees, and occasionally picks sensuality over intellectual pursuits.

But enough preambles, let us present our allegorical knights:

Our first knight is “young, fresh and alert” He wears a steel corselet which glistens under a net of green cloth like a glacier glimpsed from between pines. His color, green like the verdant, fertile forest of Youth. But what this luscious fields hide is the frozen desert of the glacier. He is blond, beautiful, his eyes reflect love. His portrait is adorned with refernces to Spain: rides an Andalusian horse whom the the Knight of Youth makes shiver when manipulating his dagger and rondell like a vain toreador. (I don’t feel confident enough yet to try and say what Spain means for Borel, but his feelings towards Spain, the Spanish language and hispanic cultures are usually very positive)(so let’s say these allusions render him more appealing)

Enter the Second Knight. His characterization is compossed of references to christianity and the gothic: He looks like a reliquary. His donkey’s protruding bones make the animal resemble a rosary, covered with a shorn horse blanket that would catch the eye of an antiquary for it could be that of Queen Isabeau, travelling from Bavaria to France (her attire for the occasion was especially lavish)

He is fat, greasy, his breathing: laborious and loud. The anthitetic starving donkey carrying the heavy knight makes the spectator think of Shrovetide carrying Carnival on its back. However, the knight himself is made of anthiteses and contradictions. He looks like a glutton, but wears the attire of a penitent monk. (foreshadowing perhaps a priest in the novel who is not as chaste as he should be) He drags his habit through the ground, staining the holy clothes. He wears the hood because in order to “sell himself to the heavens” he has to conceal who he is or perhaps what he does. While he preaches virtue, sitting with his legs wide open (the expression Borel uses, à califourchon, is possibly composed of the ancient breton word for testicules) on his frail donkey, he is inspired by Sabaoth, the avatar of the Lord when leading the armies of the angels in Judaism. (there are many interpretations of this version of God and this name, and I am not well versed in Judaism, but from the context, he seems to be preaching virtue while sitting in a somewhat obscene manner, inspired by a war-like deity of another religion) He insults, curses and swears, arrogantly challenging his two rivals. These insults are backed by a huge mace. This second knight is completely drenched in blood and kisses a crucifix. To sum it up, he is older, dirtier, bloodier, associated with phallic and christian imagery, his appereance of weakness is decieveing. His attitudes span widely between the pious or the violent.

We meet, finally, the Third Knight. He is like the Comander in the Don Juan mythos, a man of stone. (based on the spanish folk tale of the “convidado de piedra”, the guest made of stone is the funereal monument of the Comander’s grave, who Juan Tenorio mockingly invites to dine after realizing he killed him when the Commander tried to avenge the rape of his daughter. The commander famously represents Death, shows up to Juan’s supper and invites him to dine with him in Hell instead.) He is horrifying and lugubrious. When hit by the other knights, he makes the sound of a hollow tomb. He is pretty much a grim reaper made of stone, he carries a scythe, which weeps streams of blood, carries a hunter’s trap from which a hanged man swings, grimmacing in a grotesque manner. Instead of a scimitar he carries a fisherman’s hook, from which tiny nets filled with worms and larvae hang. (is this a reference to the fisherman imagery in christianity? With an ironic twist because the paradise the stony knight offers is the absolute nothingness of the grave)

The 1st Knight, represents our tangible world. He attracts the narrator with crowns of flowers, and gallantly covers any puddles the poet finds in his path with his cloak, and wipes off his tears.

Now it’s the turn for the knights to address the Poet, and the language becomes erotic: the knight of Youth wishes the poet to give in to him completely, without restraints or remorse. He wants him to dive into his chest, abandoning himself to the oscilations of the vermillion waves within it. He is the joyous, smiling side of the world, which opens itself to the youth of the narrator, revealing a future of magic from which the days of his glory will spring. It’s the world of stars and dreams but also the world of prostitution and voluptuosness. The knight of Youth offers all the pleasures of the World, he will fullfil all of the Poet’s possible desires: voluptuos women, banquets, dances, glory.

The second knight with the kindly air, serious attitude and a face made sombre by loneliness, repressents the Cloister, where the love of the Lord emmanates in streams. The Cloister Knight claims the narrator for himself, because the tangible, sensual World is a mirage, everything in it vanishes like a dream, glory and the dream of posterity are only masks pride likes to wear. It is a vain entreprise to raise onseself a living monument, because the world forgets it all. Carnal love is impure. He must join the Second Knight in the Cloister to presserve the virginities of his soul. The Cloister is not only religious, if meditation doesn’t captivate him, he can always explore wisdom and science, but never Philosophy, (the enlightenment group were notably called the Philosophes, -a word that was used to design an intellectual- and they usually opposed organized religion) which defiles the wonders of Christ.

The third Knight, the eternal leverler, the implacable reaper, whom the narrator strokes and secretly honors, (the only one of the Knights the Narrator tells us openly how he feels about) is the Void: Death. As he is ancient, he adresses the Narrator as a child, and invites him to probe into his earthy body, to drown in his muddy, shadowy chrysalis. He forgets to harvest no grape of the vine of humanity, so why wait until pain has shattered his heart to blow out his candle? Death, the Knight claims, is Our Lady of Joy and Salvation! The grave: the Promised Land. He urges our Poet not to listen to the rhethoric of the Cloister, it promises rest but Man is trapped by his obsessions in it, like Saint Anthony, who suffered tempted like a Satyr in the desert: The Cloister is the same as the World without the posibility of fullfilment or satisfaction. Joy is only possible underground where one is safe from fake friendship, ambition or lost illusions. Absolute nothing is an abscense, a dead lightning, a botomless sea, a void without an echo.

Thus, capitulates the Poet, have combated the three knights for years without quarter. His heart is wounded by this constant struggle because it’s doubtful, religious, crazy, mondain, and unbelieving at the same time. But it’s a matter of time, one of the Knights will vanquish the others and the Poet will perish, a prey of either the World, the Cloister or the Void, and he has no choice in the outcome.

We know all the knights’s paths are fake, Youth appears fertile but conceals a heart of ice, Cloister preaches virtue and science but is a licentious, violent man, Death promises rest, but is shown torturing its victims. The Poet is harrased by the three incarnations of paths he knows are purposely deceitful, attempting to seduce him with mirages. Life, he tells us at the beginning of the poem, is pain in bloom, nothing in life is real or worthy, except perhaps this struggle, and the Poet’s realization that these options are deceitful.

#madame putiphar #long post #text post #rape mention #suicide mention #this poem is such a vivid experience #i love it #beautiful use of language you just picture everything in your head #also worthyof mention: the subversion of the champions competing for the heart of the princess trope #putiphar posting #please feel free to chime in #q #got the à califourchon etimology from larousse online but i cannot make the link work :p #sainteverge and counterwiddershins are doing this as well

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tiger-moran · 2 years

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The more I reread of this series the more I get annoyed anew about Kurland replacing Moran throughout the majority of the series and giving Moran’s roles to his original characters. I mean even when Moran does turn up properly in The Empress of India (which I haven’t got to yet this time round) it’s not really in the same role as Moran plays in the canon. Moran’s roles as Moriarty’s right hand man and close (even closest) friend are both given to Barnett, an original character I still don’t like or have the slightest interest in. It’s so annoying because this series had the potential to be so great and I would have loved these books so so much if he’d made use of Moran properly throughout instead of foisting his boring American original character on us. Instead I like the series, that’s all. I don’t love it and there’s always that feeling of disappointment tacked on to my positive feelings towards it.

Also annoyingly I always liked Sefton far better than Barnett but he killed Sefton within the first few chapters and left us with Barnett i.e. the character I couldn’t care less about as a main character.

Also my other major grievance with The Infernal Device and possibly the series overall is something quite a lot of people who essentially ignore or demean Moran tend to do, which is focus really heavily on Moriarty and Holmes’s relationship and make them out to be really obsessed with each other. I don’t care about that relationship either (also I’ve never liked the ‘Moriarty was Holmes’s tutor’ idea). The only relationship involving Moriarty I do care about is basically just ignored and written out in this series.

And I get that Moriarty is not exactly the criminal mastermind of canon as such here but I think there is too much pro-monarchy, pro-aristocracy, ‘gotta protect the queen and this duke dude’ shit in The Infernal Device and in The Paradol Paradox (that’s as far as I’ve got so far during my reread). I think this pushes Moriarty too far to the ‘other side’. I do like Moriarty in this and I like him being centred as a character and being given more depth than just being the stock villain/Evil Criminal Mastermind and I totally agree that sometimes Moriarty has worked on the side of ‘good’ but I’m still not buying him really giving a damn about saving the queen’s life or about saving a duke from a scandal.

The balloon chase with the participants shooting fireworks at each other is still a pretty funny image though.

#James Moriarty #Sebastian Moran #The Infernal Device #Michael Kurland #Sherlock Holmes

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witchyuniverseofcarliemichelle · 18 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Victorian Lady with Paradol Figurine.

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health5050 · 21 days

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