A Study in Scarlet - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I have read a bunch of Sherlock Holmes stories, and have unfailingly enjoyed them. But that was a long, long time ago.

And then I saw Sherlock Holmes the movie, and enjoyed it for what it was. RDJ probably doesn’t look very Sherlock Holmes going by the description in the books. But he acts the part perfectly. Jude Law, as Watson, is a lot more dynamic and involved in the movie than Watson is in any of the stories. But the visual rendition of one of my favourite fictional characters made me want to read whatever Sherlock Holmes stories I had not read. So when I set my eyes on a two-stories book, featuring A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four, I picked it up without hesitation.

A Study in Scarlet

A Study in Scarlet, as it turned out is a sort of a Sherlock Holmes, The Origins. It is after all, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s first book. And the genesis of Sherlock Holmes is as interesting as he himself, which is explained in the lovely introduction by David Stuart Davies (an established Sherlock Holmes fan and researcher).

In ‘A Study in Scarlet’ J.Watson is introduced to Sherlock Holmes in their mutual quest for a room-mate and an apartment to live in. And thus they discover the legendary 221B, Barker Street. Watson, after a long drawn confusion about the ends to which Holmes did his esoteric chemical experiments, discovers that Holmes is a private detective, and that too, the best there ever was.

The first case that Watson finds himself involved in is the mysterious death of a Drebber in an empty house. And the rival policemen, Lestrade and Gregson, invite Holmes for his opinion. And Holmes, having gone around the place tips the Yard with the probable appearance of the murderer. And thereafter, in three days, no more, hands over the murderer to the Police in handcuffs.

Then, there is a back story given to explain the lead up to the killings (yes, plural) that Sherlock Holmes solves. Perhaps the narrative style is more conventional for this section in itself. But given the context of the book, I did like the way that the author breaks away from Watson’s perspective and takes the role of the narrator himself. The alternative was to have the murderer explain the background story. But that robs the writer of the freedom in explaining the context as well as he’d like to. So while you do miss Sherlock Holmes and Watson in this middle section, it serves a purpose. And plus it is not some 200 page story with a known ending that you have to read. It is fairly short and crisp narrative and keeps you engaged. Eventually, Sherlock Holmes comes back and ties up the loose ends, explaining his deduction methods to an impressed, and inspired, Watson.

On to The Sign of Four…

The Sign of Four

The Sign of Four, in its essence, is not very different from A Study in Scarlet. It has a lot of similar elements: long history behind the present mystery, revenge as core motive to the crime, a victim stalked patiently for a long time and an elaborate back story. What is different about The Sign of Four is, unlike most detective fiction, the story doesn’t start with a stray dead body.

It starts with Miss Mary Morstan, approaching Holmes to assist her while meeting strangers who claim to offer knowledge of her missing father. There are several perplexing facts around the disappearance of her father, amongst them being that Miss Morstan was being delivered a single expensive pearl every year. The meeting, that Holmes and Watson go to, along with Miss Morstan, has been requested by the son of Major Sholto, who was a friend of the lady’s father. Then as the story progresses, the other son of Major Sholto is discovered dead in his house. Oh there had to be a dead body somewhere! And as usual, despite Holmes giving helpful clues to the police, they arrest the wrong people, and it is up to Holmes to nab the criminal and serve justice.

The story has plenty of unusual elements that keep adding to the mystery and really makes you wonder about how is it all going to be tied up. But the author does a great job at that. And it’s another Sherlock Holmes hit for you!

The English Teacher - R.K. Narayanan

The English Teacher is about Krishnan, an English teacher who is living a close to perfect life in his idyllic town, with his loving wife and an adorable daughter. Krishnan, after having enjoyed his pseudo bachelor-hood because his wife stays away from him, eventually becomes a family man and starts appreciating the little joys that come along with having a wife and daughter in his life. The day to day squabbles with his wife, the making up after the quarrels, the playful stubbornness of his child, and all the other things become an essential part of his life. All that changes when his wife falls sick, and despite reassurances from his doctor, eventually succumbs. Krishnan’s entire life breaks down, and despite doing his best as a single father, is perpetually unhappy. He receives his strength from his ever loving wife, when she finds a way to communicate with him from the other side. And that spurs Krishnan to lead the life he always wanted, but was too scared to pursue with his own petty concerns hounding him. From being suicidal after losing his wife, he finds new meaning in life as he breaks away the shackles that tied down his meaningless existence. The little joys, laughter and pain from his life are well captured by the author of Malgudi days. But then, while the environmental serenity are extremely well written, it can not really make up for a real story. The English Teacher, as far as my opinion goes, lacks severely in that department. No, I wasn’t expecting a Ludlum-like edge of the seat thriller. An ordinary story of an ordinary man can be quite profound in some ways. And The English Teacher probably would have worked for me as a short-story, but as a full-fledged novel, it seriously lacks content, and then the author resorts to depicting the mundane happenings of the protagonist’s life. Some trivial incidents are required to give the reader an idea about a character, his setting and his lifestyle. But page after page of every little detail gets tiring.

Do not get me wrong. The story, in itself, is not bad. It does well to portray the insecurities and the unpredictability in life of the most un-happening and simple individuals. But then, the writing style, which works so well in Malgudi Days, at times, leaves you a little confused about what really is going on in a character’s head. Eventually, the book is about its conclusion though. And coming from R.K.Narayanan, a tight slap to our education system probably speaks volumes.

But as I said, the story was more suited for a shorter version. But if someone is really a fan of ‘Indian-writing’ (don’t ask me what I mean), I don’t think there will be too many complains for The English Teacher.

Hot Money - Dick Francis

I can’t remember the last time I read a who-dun-it. It probably must have been another of Dick Francis’s book, Longshot. And that, while it had a murder to be solved, and definitely had some parallels with Hot Money, did not have as much a detective-novel flavor as this book did.

Hot Money begins with a family tree; nothing as complicated as Bagginses or Took family tree from LOTR, but quite a long list for your usual family. At the head sits Malcolm Pembroke, the affable, lucky, brilliant and spectacularly rich gold-trading man, who has a strange disposition to get married all the time. He has five wives. Not simultaneously, but one-after-another, and each of them have kids and some of the kids have kids. The last two wives, Coochie, the best of the lot it seems, and Moira, the last one, are dead. And Moira has been murdered. And then, someone tries to kill Malcolm. Hot Money, especially in the volumes that Malcolm owns, is a much desirable target. And everyone in the family stood to gain from Moira’s and then, Malcolm’s death.

Malcolm approaches his estranged son, Ian, to be his bodyguard. And the relationship with Ian and Malcolm really lights up the book. The protagonists are the highlight of any Dick Francis book. And this one has two of them, and in a father-son pair, and their banter and arguments and just about any interchange, makes the book quite delightful.

Ian is an assistant horse trainer and an amateur jockey. And Malcolm seems to have discovered a passion for horses, and goes about spending millions of pounds on colts, much to the anguish of his family, most of them who badly need the cash. With such hostilities brewing for his father, Ian knows that the only way his father, and himself, can be truly safe is buy nabbing the killer.

The plot of the book is quite tight. And the chemistry between various characters extremely well written. Even though every individual family member doesn’t get too much page-time, so to speak, their characters are handled quite well, considering the number of characters and overall book-volume.

Hot Money was the second book of the omnibus containing Flying Finish. And Hot Money has as well and truly wrapped a conclusion as Flying Finish’s is incomplete. The mystery is solved eventually (obviously) and there are no over-dramatic twists, and it’s pleasing to read a very well balanced and a real detective story. Not that Agatha Christie style of detective fiction where every page and paragraph is about that body that was discovered is not fun. But in the real world, where solving murders is the responsibility of the police really, real people do not quit their jobs and stop racing horses trying to come up with schemes to arrest murderers. And the worldly treatment of a murder story makes the book a very interesting read.

Bad Science - Ben Goldacre

Who thought that a rebel scientist could write an entertaining book? But here it is, Bad Science, in all its paperback glory.

First up, let me be clear: Ben Goldacre is not a person against simple, logical things which promote good living. He fully advocates things like exercise and a balanced diet and abhors smoking and excessive alcohol consumption. What he has a problem with, to generalize, are people who claim outrageous things under the pretext of science. And that, as any common man would be vaguely aware, is so common place that it’s hard to discern the good science from the bad.

The writer starts with relatively harmless hoaxes like brain gym, a concept apparently prevalent in toddlers-schools in UK, and some strange, detoxifying foot massager. And then ups his ante to take on homeopathy. I could say he got personal. I have been on homeopathy medicine all my life. As of this moment, I have a bottle of a medicine called Cory-C, which is a clear liquid to be consumed orally, for curing common cold. I have been having it for 10 years now. It hasn’t helped my cold one bit. But I continue having it. But that’s because it tastes exactly like Vodka. I love this medicine!

Then we go on to crazy nutritionists, pill peddlers, and even modern medicine. The extent of domains he covers itself should convince you that he is not for or against anything as a concept in particular. The only thing Ben Goldacre relentlessly demands through the book is a systematic, honest search for cures for ailments of the human race. He constantly points out the role of the insensitive and ill-informed media, and at times ruling political leaders, for creating mass hysteria or hype about things that, at best, do not warrant any attention, and at worse, cause needless deaths in thousands. The AIDS fiasco in South Africa being the case in point; that one chapter, much more than the MMR episode that Ben Goldacre seems so passionate about, highlights the grimness and far reaching effect of “Bad Science”. Ben Goldacre writes that if he were not writing a light, humorous book, he would have been really, really angry. I couldn’t help feeling angry even though it was a light, humorous book that I was reading.

The best chapter of the book is definitely “Bad Stats” for me. The writer took me by surprise by his keen sense of understanding of statistics. Numbers can be misleading if you are determined to make them tell a story that they don’t really convey. And there are examples of how statistics are twisted to convey pre-determined inferences. Do that, and perfectly good science gets twisted to be bad.

This book will definitely open up your eyes to a lot of bull-shit, you wouldn’t believe how much, that goes on in this world. And while you probably will not go to the extent that Goldacre goes to validate, or repudiate, any of the gazillion claims of fat reduction, or hair growth, or memory enhancement that the latest new medicines make in newspapers you believe in, you will at least gain some intuition as to what is wrong with those claims. That perspective itself is the biggest take away from this book.