plaque at st.bart’s hospital in london.
the place where it all began…
A CALL FOR SIGNATURES, ESPECIALLY FROM AMERICAN SHERLOCK HOLMES FANS!
The Undershaw Preservation Trust is the organization whose goal is to save Undershaw, the former home of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Undershaw is where Conan Doyle wrote The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Return of Sherlock Holmes. You may have read my article about Undershaw on The Baker Street Blog (http://www.bakerstreetblog.com/2011/03/effort-to-preserve-it-iden.html), in the Scottish Rite Journal, in Irene’s Cabinet, or even on our own podcast.
The Undershaw Preservation Trust has an urgent and immediate need for signatures of American Sherlockians who would like to show their support of Undershaw on an online petition. This petition will serve to show that interest in, and support for, Undershaw crosses The Pond and is more than just a local concern.
We need these signatures no later than Friday, September 16, 2011. We are encouraging everyone to leave positive and supportive comments on the petition, as well as their signature. (By signing one’s name to the petition one is only showing support. No commitments are required and no information will be used without consent.)
Would you please consider signing the petition yourself, and promoting it among your Sherlockian friends and acquaintances? Those of you who head up a Sherlockian group might consider sending a special email to your members, or mentioning at a meeting prior to September 16. Please make it understood that we need the petition signed by September 16.
You can find the petition and more information here: http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/save_undershaw/
PLEASE REBLOG THIS!
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the Preface to The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes
(Sir, may I have the liberty of pointing out that they never left the stage, not really?)
This reminds me of E.M. Forster, in his “terminal note” on Maurice, talking about Maurice and Alec “still roaming the greenwood” of the ever after that fiction allows. They must bump into Sherlock and “his Watson” from time to time, surely.
“There he sat, with his tweed suit and his American accent, in the corner of a prosaic railway-carriage, and yet as I looked at his dark and expressive face I felt more than ever how true a descendant he was of that long line of high-blooded, fiery, and masterful men. There were pride, valour, and strength in his thick brows, his sensitive nostrils, and his large hazel eyes. If on that forbidding moor a difficult and dangerous quest should lie before us, this was at least a comrade for whom one might venture to take a risk with the certainty that he would bravely share it.”
— Watson, on Lord Henry, The Hound of Baskervilles
And yet, it’s Sherlock - Sherlock “What’s it like in your funny little brains?” Holmes - who takes one look at this guy…no, scratch that, actually spends a fair little bit of time in his actual company, who’s all, “Tell you what, Watson, why don’t I stay behind here in London and you head on up to the moors, just you and Henry, and you can sleep over at his big fucking palatial home, hang out, go for a mooonlit walk or two, talk to the locals and just drop me a line every once in a while if, y’know, you get a whiff of anything suspicious.”
Brilliant plan, you proper genius, you.