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#water=subconscious – @sarahthecoat on Tumblr
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SarahTheCoat

@sarahthecoat

mostly Sherlock. The New Semester my dreamwidth
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raggedyblue

JELLYFISH OR MEDUSA?

I start from this meta of @sagestreet (X), but since I completely move away from his topic I quickly put my ideas here ... hey soon it's Christmas, who really has time to think about jellyfish?

However, when I think of the jellyfish in Sherlock, despite the visual stimulus (aquarium) and the suggestions (THOB), I can't help but think of Medusa in the first place.

Now who was this creature? She was a Gorgon, terrible creatures that petrified men at the mere glance. She was not alone but she had two sisters and they were daughters of Forco, who represented the dangers hidden in the depths of the sea. I would emphasize the concept of depth and sea / water. The dangers inherent in the depth of emotions, Sherrinford is also under the sea, one could easily think that it is about the depths of the human psyche.

And what are these monsters, these dangers, which are hidden so deeply? They are sexual perversion (Euryale), moral perversion (Steno) and intellectual perversion (Medusa).

And what was experienced as perverse in all respects, moral, sexual and intellectual, in the Victorian era? yes, homosexuality.

John and Sherlock tell us that a jellyfish/Medusa cannot be stopped and in the presence of jellyfish, this time, no one is petrified, instead the heteronormativity is killed.

A rebellion against the preconstituted, and it is not the first time that Medusa is used as a symbol of change, she was a symbol during the French Revolution, and Shelley dedicated a poem to her attacking the patriarchy that had made Medusa victim, monster and victim again. In fact, the myth tells that before she was a monster she was a beautiful girl that Poseidon fell in love with. He ended up raping her, unleashing Athena's anger who, instead of taking revenge on him, Poseidon, transformed the girl into a monster that Perseus ended up killing. Medusa therefore also became a symbol of the feminist movement of the 70s. A woman transformed into a monster by men who could not tolerate her being seductive. And the Moffits explicitly used feminism and the feminine as an allegory for homosexuality, just look at the multiple female mirrors, Eurus and the League of Furies. Homosexuality transformed into monstrous because it is scary. But at the end of Medusa's severed-headed story, Pegasus (practically a My Little Pony) and a giant with a .... long golden sword were born.

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garkgatiss
Anonymous asked:

has there been non-emp related meta written about the water imagery in TST?

hey! I don't know if anyone has written this up long-form but my feeling is that it's a continuation of the general themes of both 1) water = feelings/sentiment and 2) glass = a barrier separating one's self from it. Sherlock crashing through the glass panel in that guy's house to fall into the pool while wrestling with Ajay vs. Sherlock &co in the aquarium, walking around literally underwater but separated from it by walls and arches of glass. Bonus shark imagery representing the dangers of immersing one's self in sentiment (vs. a pool safe enough for a child to swim in...?)

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sarahthecoat

i suppose it also depends on whether you make a distinction between EMP, mind theater, and a metaphorical reading. they do kind of lead from one into another, but a metaphorical reading, by itself, does not depend on the bbc character of sherlock necessarily being in a coma or dream state.

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In the deep end …

Impressions from Sherlock BBC, The Six Thatchers

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sarahthecoat

hmm, in a frame/behind glass, glass closet? Breaking the glass, out of the frame, out of the glass closet. Into the water/emotions/formless, in and under, denied air/intellect. more water. coming out of the water into air, soaking wet.

i think? the only other times we see sherlock smash glass are in TEH, anderson's fantasy, TAB, to get IN the house (mind palace), and TFP, the boop they're fine, so, also a fantasy.

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Chapter 11 – The Importance of Being Earnest [TFP 1/3]

This episode is huge. When I first watched it, I hated it. I still have mixed feelings towards it, but what I do know is that there is a huge amount to unpack in it, and I don’t think there’s a way to do this other than chronologically without missing a bit. So – here we go. This is broken down into readable chunks so that it’s not hellish to read, hence the chapters!

We open with the little girl on the aeroplane – this is a metaphor I’ve gone into in reasonable detail in chapter 2 X, so please refer back if you need to, but TLDR: planes/height symbolise dying, the plane scenario is going round and round in the Eurus/trauma part of Sherlock’s brain that is utterly repressed, he finally breaks through to her and then finally to the childhood heart of his trauma and recognises that it is all in his head. That’s the arc of the aeroplane scenario across the episode – so when we open TFP, we open in full panic mode. This is Sherlock in the middle of his childhood panic, in the Eurus part of his brain that represents trauma and convinced this could kill him – we don’t know yet that it can’t. The only person we can talk to is Jim on the phone, welcoming the girl to the final problem. I’ve talked about MP!Jim representing John being in mortal danger, and here we are at last. Sherlock mentally ended the last episode having recognised that John is in danger – the problem is how to break through the trauma to wake himself up. Jim’s voice is important here, because it’s the link back to John – this episode takes place so deep inside Sherlock’s psyche that we run the risk of forgetting the central problem, that John is in danger, and so the Moriarty link is crucial.

Then we have our opening credits, which always fill me with a Pavlovian excitement, even when it’s for an episode I have such mixed emotions about. Then, we get on to the strange scenario that Sherlock and John set up to prove that Mycroft has been lying about Eurus. In metaphorical terms, this is nice; the first third of the episode is about Sherlock finally integrating his brain (MP!Mycroft) and his heart (MP!John), and after having finally reconnected with his heart at the end of TLD it makes sense for the heart to be finally making demands of the brain, forcing it to compromise for the first time. However, before we look at that…

This scene is another rehearsal. Rehearsals are drawn to our attention in TSoT, but we see them elsewhere – TAB, for example, is a rehearsal for the hardcore EMPing of s4. These rehearsals are performances in miniature, not insignificant in themselves but most important in the guide they provide for the real thing. TFP is a messy and complicated episode, and this rehearsal is foreshadowing the game that’s going to follow.

The first thing that this tells us about Eurus’s game is that it’s not real. This isn’t just that Sherlock can talk her down from her invented aeroplane, or that he can break out of the fake cellar in the Musgrave grounds. What we’re being told here is that the game is actually impossible; it can’t be happening. Look at the blood coming out of the portraits’ eyes that is never explained, for example, or the doors slamming at just the right moments like a horror film. It’s not possible, as the female voice in the scenario literally says, pointing out that nothing is impossible. This isn’t true. This, in fact, goes against the one thing everybody knows about Sherlock Holmes. They draw attention to this by focusing on his crap irrelevant deductions in TLD, but they make it even more obvious here; nothing is impossible. Eliminate everything impossible and whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Eliminating TFP would be foolhardy – they’ve chosen to show it to us for a reason – but it’s certainly not the truth.

Next – the use of a child’s silhouette. Admittedly, the little girl in the aeroplane simulation turns out not to be a child, but Sherlock’s choice to use a child to scare Mycroft is odd, because Eurus is no longer a child. What’s even stranger is that Mycroft treats the child like she’s an enemy, rather than trying to help her – it’s like he imagines that the child is Eurus. In the real world, this would be completely bizarre, given that Eurus is a thirty-something year old woman. But this is not the real world. This is a world where different timelines, memories, parts of Sherlock’s brain can all mix and are all equally dangerous – hence the genuine fear of the child. It’s the same panic that the child in the plane is actually crashing, although the plane doesn’t exist, or the children in the memories seeming to ask the adults remembering to come to play with them. There’s an interplay between the agentic parts of Sherlock (Sherlock himself, brain!Mycroft, heart!John, trauma!Eurus) and everything repressed and unreal within his psyche – it’s all equally dangerous.

Now – what is it that actually happens when they play the trick on Mycroft? They’re not just coming after him – they’re infecting the house he lives in, with voices that carry on the wind, attacking his portraits, using the swords against him etc. This is important – the house that MP!Mycroft lives in can be seen as the kind of world that Sherlock’s brain wants to inhabit that is made impossible by the existence of Eurus, and the first thing that’s so striking about that world is its age. Mycroft already dresses like he’s in another era, something that I should have thought about long ago – the house backs up the idea that he’s in the wrong time period somehow. We can see his obsession with the past through the many portraits (probably of ancestors) which hang on the walls – but these are the first things that Sherlock and John attack, having them bleed from the eyes. (As mentioned before, this is fucky and remains completely unexplained.) This is an attack on the past, which is good news for us – finally moving forwards! But it’s also a specific attack on the eyes, which is interesting given how important sight is here – Sherlock needs to wake up, for which he needs Eurus to open her eyes, and more generally the theme of the show since 2010 has been that there’s something ‘hiding in plain sight’. It’s as though heart!John taking his rightful primacy in Sherlock’s psyche is hurting the eyes of the past, which have been previously surrounding and informing brain!Mycroft.

The most screaming question to come out of this section of TFP, though, is how the cliffhanger of the previous episode was resolved. So Eurus shot John with a dart, even though it was the same gun that killed his wife. Even if we accept that, how on earth do we accept that Eurus just left him there? For what – for the person who owns the house to find? What happened when he told Sherlock he had a sister? These are all really valuable questions and important moments which are notably absent from the show – we feel cheated by a cliffhanger without resolution, and rightly so. I want to hypothesise, however, that moving away from surface level, this makes sense. We can’t resolve the cliffhanger situation because it hasn’t been resolved – the cliffhanger, which tells us that John is in mortal danger in the real world, can’t be resolved until Sherlock wakes up. How, then, is John with him? The simple answer is that there are two Johns. That sounds not-so-simple, but when you break down John’s functions within the MP it’s the only way this can work.

Since TSoT, we’ve had a working understanding of Mycroft as the brain and John as the heart, existing as a dichotomy within Sherlock’s psyche, and we shouldn’t abandon that. The John that we see in TFP is heart!John, trying to work with brain!Mycroft for the first time rather than against him, even whilst brain!Mycroft acknowledges his new lack of primacy. However, this series is about Sherlock working out what’s going on with John in the real world, so there’s a kind of hypothesis!John floating around as well. This John isn’t Sherlock’s heart, because the crucial thing about hypothesis!John is that Sherlock spends most of the first two episodes in the series trying to work him out – what’s going on with him? How is he in danger? And we last see him at the end of TLD, being shot by therapist!Eurus – that’s what’s going on with him. (Explained in detail in chapter 7 X). So here, heart!John’s paltry excuses for what happened should feel paltry – they’re just barely covering the hole in surface plot. In EMP terms, it leaves that cliffhanger open – it’s still going, basically. We still don’t know whether John lives or dies, because from that point onwards we only see heart!John. It seems odd on the surface that John is the one who puts forward the idea of a simulation for Mycroft, but within the MP this makes perfect sense – because John and Mycroft are the two entities who primarily make up Sherlock, heart!John has the separation that Sherlock doesn’t to be able to let brain!Mycroft recognise what he’s been hiding from Sherlock.

There are three elements of this scene which bother me in minor ways, and thus far I haven’t managed to get an answer to – if anybody has any thoughts on these bits in particular, I would love to know. First is that Sherlock wears a deerstalker in this scene, which is normally a symbol of enforced heterosexuality. It’s a strange place for this to come up – it doesn’t thematically tie to anything that’s going on in the scene. The second is the film that Mycroft is watching – it’s not a real film, but a random scene in film noir style that they shot just for TFP. Again, I’m certain this must have significance, otherwise they would have just put on Double Indemnity as a nod to Wilder. The age of the film and of the cinema vibe points to the era of Rathbone adaptations, suggesting someone stuck in the past again, but I’m not sure that’s enough motivation to write an entirely new film scene. The final question is why Mycroft seems to have something tied around one elbow but not the other. This shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but there we go. Food for thought, if anyone wants to attempt those?

In the meantime, let’s turn to look at the next scene – Mycroft in Baker Street. This is one of those scenes that people have picked up on as fucky – there is no way all three of them could have escaped from Baker Street completely unscathed, for starters, let alone the skull and headphones remain completely intact at the end. As well as this, John army-doctor Watson not recognising what a grenade is? And Sherlock can’t either? Bull shit. So we need to read this scene metaphorically.

I’m firmly of the belief that the first third of the episode, culminating in this scene, is about Sherlock finally integrating his heart and mind, and brain!Mycroft finally coming to Baker Street to engage with them in truthful terms feels like a mark of that. Mycroft, the brain, was aware of Sherlock’s trauma and repressed it. In finally telling the truth, he can come together with the heart and try to beat it. This all makes sense – and tonally, it feels right for Mycroft to be there. One of the odd things about TFP is that although Sherlock has always been about our two leads, in TFP they suddenly feel like a golden trio – and it works. I can’t imagine those three working in any situation outside the bizarreness of EMP – imagine the horror of Mycroft coming on a case with them – so again, the tonal shift makes me feel like there’s a subconscious awareness of a different dynamic between brain!Mycroft, heart!John and Sherlock than we might otherwise have.

Of course, it’s the final acknowledgement of the trauma that blows up Baker Street, often seen as a safe haven (and phrased as such by John in the previous scene) and, in true dream logic, seems to create the east wind that blows our boys all the way to Sherrinford. No in-between injuries (which there would definitely be), no questions about Mycroft’s disguise, or where he came from or where Sherlock went, how they got the boat, anything. It’s not enough for Sherlock to want to go and rescue Eurus – the trauma (in the form of the patience grenade) quite literally needs to be the catalyst. This is the place that Sherlock never wants to go, and he’s forced into it.

Of course, the most strikingly queer moment in this scene is the Oscar Wilde conversation, a set up for a joke (or not) about Mycroft dressing up as Lady Bracknell that gets repeated throughout the episode. I pride myself on knowing a little bit about Oscar Wilde, and so we’re going to take a detour – it’s important, I promise.

The Importance of Being Earnest is probably the most successful play by Oscar Wilde. It was first performed in 1895, the same year as TAB, the same year as the poem It is always 1895 which is so important in this show, the same year that Oscar Wilde himself went on trial for gross indecency. The play is about a man called Jack who has two lives, one in the town where he’s called Ernest (and can do immoral things with his even more immoral male best friend and go after the woman he loves) and in the countryside, where he lives a respectable life under the name of Jack. Unsurprisingly, this play has been read very queerly over the years, particularly with regard to the double-life ideas and the dandyish immorality of Jack’s “best friend”, Algy. The quote used in the show is ‘truth is rarely pure and never simple’ – here’s the full quote.

 The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility!

This line is given by Algy, just when Jack has explained to him the double life situation and describes it as ‘pure and simple’. Two bros discussing their double lives in 1895 written by the most famous gay in history. I don’t know, I’m just extrapolating from the data…

So, an interesting choice of line given that TFP is about Sherlock having two lives – Sherlock Holmes, who has previously always lived within established canon, and Sherrinford Holmes, the metafictional outsider who Sherlock is trying to block out. Now, how do these lines feature in the narrative of TFP?

The most shocking thing, on a surface level, is that the Holmes brothers wouldn’t recognise this line. Wilde is possibly the most quotable man in history, and this is one of his famous ones – it’s even up in Dublin Aeroport (my local aeroport, so perhaps I’m biased here – but rest assured I knew the line the second they said it, and I know plenty of other viewers knew it long before the Holmeses did). Mycroft had even been in the play. The most intelligent man in England? It doesn’t make sense. So, once again, down we go to the metaphorical level.

[best picture I could find of the Oscar Wilde quote in Dublin Aeroport – sorry!]

Heart!John being the only person who recognises Oscar Wilde has an obvious connotation – Wilde represents queer love, but he also represents through TAB the queer love that has always been there. The green carnations in TAB, Heimish the Ideal Husband? That’s all Oscar Wilde, but it’s all in the background, and heart!John only voices it at what he thinks is the final moment – and I do believe that in this moment, the trinity of Sherlock here really do believe they are going to be enveloped by the trauma. Mortal danger leads to that confession, if only in oblique terms – an oblique Garridebs moment, then.

Just as interesting is that Mycroft played Lady Bracknell in school. Lady Bracknell is the old aunt who is the obstacle to love in the play, objecting that Jack’s not good enough for Gwendolen and Cecily’s not good enough for Algy. Brain!Mycroft, who has been dominating heart!John for a long time in the MP, has indeed been an obstacle to love. Mentioning this once might have been a throwaway gag – it’s mentioned at least three times, which points to it being a pretty significant point of comparison. The three times that it is mentioned, two are Sherlock complimenting Mycroft on his Lady Bracknell at the point. Both times Sherlock compliments Mycroft on his Lady Bracknell have been standout moments for me because they’ve been notably peaceful – these two brothers are always bickering and even fighting, and although I’ve made the claim that this is the moment and the episode where Sherlock’s brain stops giving Sherlock a hard time and starts being kind to him, the reverse has to be true as well, right? Sherlock accepts that his brain has held him back before, and the key thing is that he no longer resents brain!Mycroft - because this episode is about being kind to himself and coming to terms with himself. Accepting that Mycroft has been a good Lady Bracknell means accepting that Mycroft had his reasons for behaving like this – socio-cultural, presumably, like Lady Bracknell’s own, right? - and that like Jack in Ernest, he doesn’t resent her/him for it, but neither do those restrictions continue. It’s a lovely metaphorical way to reintegrate Sherlock’s brain comfortably into his psyche whilst acknowledging that the big problem between them has been a queer one – Oscar Wilde, 1895.

It’s also part of a running motif since the start of the EMP, which is declarations of love at the point of death – the dialogue between Sherlock and Mycroft is of course meaningful and important, but heart!John saying ‘Oscar Wilde’ at the point of death is one of the clearest of these moments, and definitely the queerest. I teach English to kids, and this is something that we call a ‘holistic motif’, where you pick a consistent motif and have it run through a story, and eventually the audience starts thinking – I’ve seen this before, it must be important. The classic one in Sherlock is ‘hiding in plain sight’, which has an important purpose for tjlc, but this one starts to dominate in EMP (although it does exist in The Empty Hearse as well). It’s as though this idea is going round and round in Sherlock’s head, in various forms, until his psyche can finally process it (once he’s dealt with his trauma).

The next bit of analysis will take us to Sherrinford, so this feels like a good place to stop this chapter. The next chapter will go through the Sherrinford section of TFP, as this feels like a reasonable way to segment the episode. See you then!

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sarahthecoat

oh, it’s SO GOOD to have time to read this next chapter!

I also barely made it through TFP once, only by using knitting did I manage. But at the very same time that I knew you couldn’t pay me to watch it again, i could tell it was just BURSTING with subtext. I didn’t know how to parse it yet, but I knew it was there. I finally went from lurker to blogger here because I wanted to keep up with the lovely meta writers who began to tease it apart, and are still doing so!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE that this episode really gets into the nitty-gritty of the personal integration Sherlock is doing. It’s hard, messy work, it does “go round and round” until he’s ready to do it.

I wonder if the deerstalker in the scene in “Mycroft’s house” is part of the suggestion that we are looking into the past? dealing with the limitations of the many adaptations that didn’t try to look below the surface of the canon. Maybe that’s also to do with why the “scare mycroft” plan was heart!John’s rather than Sherlock’s own?

I DO remember reading meta about the little film noir clip that Mycroft was watching. I will try to track that down, but one of the disadvantages of going from lurking via browser, to blogging via app, was not making and filing bookmarks so much any more. It had to do with the romantic banter between the detective character and the woman who is maybe a suspect? she’s kind of teasing him about interrogating her?

and again I really only watched this once, and I don’t have the DVD, but is Mycroft wearing a sleeve garter on one arm but not the other? those were to keep your sleeve cuff from getting messed up in your ink, back when you wrote everything by hand with a fountain pen and didn’t want to smear the ink before it dried. If so, then maybe another suggestion that this is looking into the past?

The “grenade” in 221B: I’ve always been given to understand that bombs in this show represent the idea of a #confirmed gay relationship between John and Sherlock, ie “dropping that bombshell” on the audience. So the bomb vest John has in TGG doesn’t go off, and the heart shaped train car bomb in TEH doesn’t go off, and in TFP when it finally does, of course they aren’t harmed by it, because there’s really nothing wrong with being gay and in love!

The only thought I can toss out about why Mycroft is suddenly “disguised” as a fisherman, is that “going fishing” means looking for something you know is there? especially, trying to hook something that’s underwater (water=emotions, subconscious) and bring it up to the surface? So Brain!Mycroft is fully on-team with bringing up the old trauma to finally heal it.

I love what you said about Sherlock being nice to Brain!Mycroft about his Lady Bracknell, meaning that he’s acknowledging that the brain has reasons to repress trauma until one is ready to process it. That’s my understanding of trauma work, that it’s ok for the person to only bring to awareness as much of it as they feel ready to deal with. There’s nothing to be gained by forcing it too soon. This is making me review John’s meeting with Mycroft back in ASIP, as Brain!Mycroft encountering Heart!John, and gently checking him out, how much is he ready to take on yet? Can we work together?

Thank you again for this whole series!

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Chapter 7: There’s Something About Mary (TST 2/2)

A very funny film – with a very apt title for this chapter!! If you haven’t read the first half of the TST meta, check the previous chapter – we’re jumping straight back in.

Jack Sandiford’s home in Reading could not be talking more about water – Arwel has really excelled himself here. Not only do we have a swimming pool and a Hokusai, but look at the ceiling – I have never seen a ceiling reflect water quite like that. I don’t know if it’s a mirror (!) or another visual effect, but it serves to remind us of where we are – the water is not just below us, but all around. It’s not a case of taking the plunge – we are still drowning.

A moment of appreciation for Sacha Dhawan, whose time on Sherlock was far too short – at least he got Doctor Who. Regardless, his first scene is back to parody here. Sherlock’s quip about the polling station is the sort of quip you only see on television, and the fighting that follows is clearly stage fighting. We get Bond-esque drama as they jump into the pool and smash the glass (note the same motif from the Thatcher smashing earlier), but even before that, banging each others’ heads off the surfaces without a scratch is obvious stage fighting and a well known move. It feels more like theatre than TV, and for me it doesn’t work on film. Perhaps I’m being harsh here, but I feel again that we’re moving into a parody of Sherlock Holmes the superhero. We also get several shots during the fight scene where water seems to obscure the lens with its weird refraction of light; I love this, because it’s a jarring reminder that the camera exists, and with that a reminder that this is artificial. It jolts us out of the scene and speaks to its unreality.

Sherlock announces that he has found the black pearl of the Borgias, but of course he hasn’t – it’s the AGRA memory stick. Importantly, the original story ends with the black pearl, so we’re tying back in to the expectation that has been latently set by Craig; here, the show is diverging from canon, and Sherlock doesn’t know what to do about it – his declaration that it’s not possible is literal. This scene gives a perfect parallel to the one in TAB where he attempts to unmask Lady Carmichael only to find Moriarty – he was missing the obvious. Here, we’ve seen already in this episode the serious miscalculation he has made about Moriarty in his brain; he is still treating the Moriarty threat as one of a supervillain. Stealing jewels is something we associate with Moriarty from TRF, but that moment is high camp – it’s the end of the episode between John and Sherlock which is the emotional crux. If we’re focusing on what Jim means in himself, we’re missing the point – and it’s exactly the same here. Sherlock needs to reconceptualise Jim as his fear of losing John, and this is the moment when his brain connects this properly to Mary. Bear in mind that everything that happens after Sherlock is shot in HLV takes place within the EMP, so we know nothing about Mary in reality. The AGRA memory stick doesn’t represent who Mary genuinely is – it represents the great unknown of Mary, the question mark over her head. Never forget, after all, that the original AGRA box from the stories was empty. It’s the same here – our divergence into Mary’s past is untrue. When Sherlock realises that Moriarty is somehow to do with the memory stick, he is realising that his fear of John dying is tied into his confrontation with Mary back in 2014 (!). This moment of realisation drives the rest of the episode to Mary’s death scene, where Sherlock relives his own attempted assassination by Mary (as we’ll see) – this is what he has to figure out. If we need more impetus to realise that what happens in HLV post shooting is wrong, look at Sherlock’s flashback to John and Mary’s reunion in HLV – if we take this show at face value, that simply can’t be right, because Sherlock wasn’t there. The only way to read this is if such a scene took place in Sherlock’s own brain – a kind of fill in the blanks as he tried to excuse Mary, only now realising that she is, in fact, the most serious threat of all.

A dreamscape coincidence takes place behind Ajay in this scene – before we know that he is Ajay, and the A in AGRA, we see the A behind him on the shelf, as though calling it out to us. This world is too interconnected to be real; its whole fabric seems to self-reference.

In case we wanted any more flashing blue light, we see the police sirens flashing in – now as far as I know, police sirens are normally blue and red, but not here. I wonder why. They will be the same, somewhat worryingly, at the end of TFP. Look at how it lights up one half of Sherlock’s face, just like the water did before. Rachel Talalay is really fantastic.

The next thing we get is a flashback to Tbilisi, and the ambassador asking ‘who’s they? Seems we put an awful lot of faith in they’. It’s difficult not to read this as a reflection on tjlc and how most of us have been feeling for years now, whether or not this is intentional! She also says that she’s got something ‘they’ would love, if we ever get out of here: ammo. For ammo, we should pretty much always read ‘amo’, the Latin for I love – this will be very important later, but for now there’s a nice little metaphorical resonance here – if we ever get out of where we’re trapped (Tbilisi, or the dreamscape), the great ‘they’ want amo. Maybe.

We cut out of this flashback into Sherlock standing and thinking to himself. Normally, in the show, that means that what we’ve been seeing is a mind palace construction or a flashback. When the AGRA scene showed, I expected us to cut to Mary explaining it to Sherlock and/or John, because that would explain its flashback nature. But again, it’s Sherlock thinking, which like our previous memories of Mary suggest that none of it is real – it’s a stop gap as he tries to work her out. It could be argued that Sherlock got this info from his glance at the memory stick, but I don’t buy that – the memory stick contains material from before their betrayal, not after.

Ajay’s torture is another way of teasing Amo and the English woman, which will come to fruition later in the episode, so we’ll move through to Sherlock’s meeting with Mary. Mary, at this point, is still just Mary, no mirrors, no nothing, as Sherlock tries to work her out. Notice how he acknowledges that he had been too caught up in Moriarty and the pearl. I also think it’s relevant that the building in which Mary chloroforms (camphors?) Sherlock is a church – this is a subconscious reference to the Sherlock-is-murdered metaphor in TSoT (X). As we’ll later discover in a big way, the one thing that is stopping Sherlock from getting a handle on Mary and the threat she represents is that he can’t acknowledge his love for John as playing a part in this – he can’t understand why love is such an enormous threat. He will get there (at least partially) at the end of TST, but not until then. Just like the Sherlock-is-murdered metaphor in TSoT represents his realisation that he is in love with John, Mary’s attack on him here in a church stops him from getting to the bottom of what is going on with Mary.

The obsession with the memory stick here is important because the memory stick represents the unknown about Mary that Sherlock is trying – and failing – to get to grips with. However, he’s still going about it the wrong way, and we know that from one line of Mary’s: ‘Sherlock the dragon slayer’. We’ve had these references to Sherlock’s ridiculous hero complex before, but this one stands out, because it feels like a throwback – and it is! But, it’s a throwback to:

Mycroft. If we wanted to, we could jump back to Sir Boastalot as well, but the original ‘dragon slayer’ quote happens when Mary is nowhere around. There isn’t a way to make this callback work without either saying it’s a ‘coincidence’ (really?) or postulating some sort of dreamscape. Here, the dreamscape works perfectly, because it’s the hero image that Sherlock is working to break in this episode, and these iterations come first from his brain (Mycroft) and secondly from hypothesis Mary – even as he’s trying to crack her in various versions in his mind, his subconscious is warning him that he’s wrong. We moved from supervillain Mary to Mary-who-needs-protecting; neither of these are particularly relevant.

Sherlock’s subconscious even trying to break through Mary is important as she refers to the ghosts of her past – this is a phrase which keeps cropping up from TAB all the way through series 4, but it’s normally used in reference to Sherlock himself. She’s again voicing a motif from the programme that as Mary she can’t possibly know about, but as Sherlock’s subconscious is trying to push Sherlock back on the right track.

Mary drugs Sherlock, and in case we needed another reminder of what that represents and what is stopping Sherlock from progressing, we get a shot of Redbeard and we hear Eurus singing the riddle. See chapter 13 (X) which explains why this is symbolic of gay trauma and needing to fully come to terms with your queerness. When Sherlock wakes up, the transition sound from Redbeard back into grown up Sherlock is a gigantic wave followed by rain. Although Sherlock and Victor have been playing by the water, that wave is far too big to come from that image. When we move outside, there is a dripping sound, and our entire visual is coloured in the dark blue of the promo pictures and that really characterises the underwater aesthetic of s4. This scene has shown us a series of blockages to Sherlock solving his current conundrum, and the wave washing over him is the sound of him being pushed deeper into his mind, not climbing out. We’re a long way from a pirate sailing the seven seas here.

The next transition is fantastic. We see two reflections of Mycroft listing off another meaning of Agra (an Indian city) whilst seemingly looking at each other. The reflections are distorted to be thinner than normal, again pointing to the dreamscape we’re used to by now, but also telling us that Mycroft’s voice is Sherlock’s brain here, reflecting – this is the equivalent of going into his mind palace to work something out, drawing on memories and existing knowledge. However, remember that in real life the memory stick does not exist. So why is Sherlock so keen on deciphering AGRA? Well, the treasure of Agra features in The Sign of the Four, in which Holmes is trying to regain the treasures for Mary but does not (as mentioned before, the Agra box is empty) – but the actual important development is that Watson and Mary become engaged. Agra here is not about the memory stick, much like ammo isn’t about ammunition; it’s a tool for Sherlock to engage with Mary’s past. However, Mycroft referencing the original Agra here suggests that Sherlock is trying to grapple with Mary’s potentially criminal past, and also that he can’t get past who she was supposed to be, as we’ve already seen from HLV (she wasn’t supposed to be like that!). However, it’s also a sign that he’s missing the most important part of The Sign of the Four, which is all the more notable for its importance because the wedding episode is named for it; John’s relationship with Mary is the real occurrence in that story.

Others have pointed out that Gatiss wielding a pen in this scene means that he is speaking at least partially as Mofftiss, not just as brain!Mycroft – hence we have wonderful lines such as mentioning that all the best secret societies have acronyms (cough tjlc cough) and that he hates loose ends. A little reassurance there.

Other moments in this scene are lovely – Sherlock is continually distorted by a mirror on the wall, reminding us that this is him trying to process the hypotheses he is running about Mary in his brain. This brain, as previously mentioned, is under siege, and it’s important then that Mycroft and Sherlock both acknowledge that Sherlock and sentiment are becoming one and the same; TFP is going to be about the brain and the heart learning to work together, rather than against one another, but Mycroft’s disparagement and the underground dungeon he’s living in show that we’re not there just yet.

I confess that Mary’s travel montage bores me somewhat, although I’m tempted someday to go through all the graffiti and montages with a fine tooth comb to see if anything can be come up with. I am, however, running out of time to write this before term starts for me! Let’s jump onto the idea that not even Sherlock Holmes can anticipate the roll of the dice. The theme of Sherlock being able to predict the future comes up a few times in this episode, and I’ve mentioned before how this is a set up for us to doubt the premise of TLD, that he suddenly has quasi-magic predictive powers. Here, he seems to, and then it is immediately undercut, because he says that he placed a tracker inside the memory stick. All very funny – except it doesn’t make sense. I confess I didn’t notice this, but my mum did straight away – if you have a tracker, you can follow someone, but you can’t arrive somewhere before them. It’s not possible. This is an aspect of Sherlock’s predictive power that doesn’t make sense – and we might be able to just about buy it on his ‘mathematical probability’ shtick, except he’s just told us that that’s a load of rubbish. This leaves us in a situation that is impossible – and isn’t too much of a problem, because it’s just a device, but is a huge setup for the impossibility of the next episode. It also speaks to a dreamscape again, because where else are you exactly where you need to be when you need to be there, with no explanation?

The jibe about happy families is a little laboured, but it sets up the idea that Sherlock is starting to work in terms of relationships now rather than seeing things in terms of chess. Think of the chessboard squares in Mycroft’s office – but his deduction partner has now switched to John, who represents his heart, and so he’s starting to get on the right track. Note as well how we’re meant to assume they are playing chess or some equivalently cerebral game before we discover that they’re playing Happy Families; this is the same as the chess/Operation scene in TEH, in which we see the difficulty that the Holmes boys have in accessing their hearts. Now that Sherlock is using heart!John instead of brain!Mycroft, he’s almost there, but still not quite winning due to his unfamiliarity with the situation. Note also yet another distorting mirror in the background of this scene.

The fact that Mary’s real name is not Mary is used to great effect here – it could have just been throwaway, but instead in this scene they actually conceptualise Mary and Rosamund as different people. I read this scene as ‘Mary’ being the name for Watson’s canon wife, and Rosamund being our current Mary – so heart!John saying that he liked Mary is his inability to break with established canon. Simultaneously, however, he says “I used to” – he’s caught in a bind, because that canon breakage is already happening.

This room is lit warmly, quite the opposite to the dark watery colours that we see inside most of this episode – most of the waters take place in Sherlock’s brain, and are epitomised by Mycroft’s office, whereas this scene is warm, the colours one might expect of hearth and home, as heart!John takes precedence for the first time. However, notice the grating and the pattern of light that spreads itself softly over the characters’ clothing – it’s much less obvious than in Mycroft’s office, but it’s still the same chequered pattern. As we move in to TFP and John and Mycroft are tied together, rather than moving apart, we’re going to see that increasingly they are two sides of the same coin, heart and brain. You’ll notice, though, that Mycroft’s grating pattern is more like a chessboard – it’s binary and simplistic, black squares and empty space for white light. The patterns of light in this scene, particularly as we move into the Ajay confrontation, become more complicated – the light is let through in swirls as well as grates, as though heart!John is allowing for much more complexity than brain!Mycroft – which seems to be right, given how much more difficult Sherlock finds Happy Families than chess.

[more tenuous crack: Ajay’s torture has always reminded him of Sherlock’s torture, but he’s sustained every day by this bit of information. Ammo, ammo. Amo, amo. Love? I can dream.]

The following scene is an intercut phone conversation between Sherlock, still in Marrakech, and Mycroft in his office – moving back and forth between the two highlights the difference in colour scheme as well as in the angle of grating, which is similar but almost inverted. However, it’s Sherlock talking to brain!Mycroft rather than heart!John – it’s not a row between the two parts of the psyche, but showing that Sherlock has firmly moved over to the other. That won’t be the answer – they will need to integrate for the end of s4– but this is the way towards working out Mary. The split screen effect is helpful here for us to understand both sides not as different, but taking up the same space. This is heightened when Sherlock and Mycroft both walk off, their silhouettes merging into one – they are one and the same. It’s also important that it is from this space that Sherlock makes the ‘amo’ deduction – he could have done so from anywhere in London, but he doesn’t – he needs to be in a heart space.

We now discover what heart!John meant by “so many lies […] I don’t just mean you” earlier – his not-tryst with Eurus. Again, this is discussed in greater detail in an earlier chapter (X), but let’s remember the initial mention of it. It was heart!John who spoke those words, not real!John – because we never get real!John in this series, except through Sherlock’s memory – and so his interrogation of Sherlock’s hypothesis of Mary is where he starts to realise that the problem is one of happy families rather than chess, and that it’s a lot more emotionally complicated than the supervillain arc gives credit for. It’s important that we’re told this story in reverse, because Sherlock is slowly picking up the clues for it but only putting it together late. We’ve seen all the signs that John might be unhappy but haven’t elaborated on them – now Sherlock’s mind is noticing that the Mary problem is something to do with John’s emotions. He can’t work out what, so he hypothesises – this meta chapter (X) goes into much greater detail about how his queer trauma (Eurus) is prodding at his hypothesis of John here, forcing Sherlock to masquerade as a woman in the form of trauma!Eurus because trauma!Eurus will not let him truly accept queer desire and the possibility of reciprocity. It is why we get a story which rings so false about John here. However, I’m running the risk of repeating said chapter, so we’ll move ahead.

We move into brain!Mycroft’s interrogation of Lady Smallwood. The setting is once again focusing on reflection – the mirror behind Lady Smallwood reflects Mycroft, and of course there is the larger mirror structure of an interrogation room, where a mirror from the inside allows Sherlock to watch what’s going on – an obvious metaphor. Lady Smallwood’s opening lines, that Mycroft can’t accuse her again, are really important – in HLV, right before he went down, Sherlock thought that Mary was Lady Smallwood. He’s playing through this mistake – why did he make it? What stopped him from seeing the obvious about Mary, just as he is missing the obvious about Norbury? Both, after all, have been ‘hiding in plain sight’.

Amo. Love, Smallwood’s code name, stopped him from realising it was Norbury, and by extension it’s what stopped him from realising Mary’s true self earlier – love was clouding his judgement. There is more, however. The fact that ‘ammo’ and ‘amo’ are so similar is brilliant, because they mean total opposites – ammo is to do with war, and amo is love. When it comes to the problem of being shot, of knowing that John is in danger but not quite understanding how, Sherlock has been focusing on the threat from ‘ammo’ for too long, hypothesising Mary as some kind of super dangerous villain. This isn’t what’s endangering John. What’s endangering John is ‘amo’ – without Sherlock, John is suicidal, and so it is love that is the ultimate danger. The mistake that Ajay made (ammo) is the same mistake that Sherlock has been making in hypothesising about Mary throughout the episode. Another point worth noting is that gay slang – the early 20th century equivalent for ‘is he a friend of Dorothy?’ is ‘does he know his Latin?’* That’s definitely the sort of thing Mark Gatiss would know and throw in.

[*I found this on tumblr! And can’t refind it! Which makes me question its veracity – although it seems a really odd thing to make up. If anyone can source this for me, would love them forever – I have trawled my files and I foolishly didn’t save it!]

We should also note that amo is a verb – amor is the Latin word for love. ‘Amo’ actually means ‘I love’ – we know that Sherlock knows this, because he conjugates the verb earlier in the episode: amo, amas, amat. My understanding is that it is the first verb anyone learns to conjugate in Latin classes, and that therefore Mofftiss hoped their audience might have some familiarity (rather than picking a much less taught language). ‘I love’ is not the same as ‘love’ – it is an action, and that’s something that Sherlock hasn’t quite cottoned on to. He keeps saying ‘love’ but refuses to grasp that he has to be involved in this verb – as we’ll see.

Mary’s death scene is where all of this – finally! – comes to fruition. Note the blue lighting over the London Aquarium, even the London Eye, to match the underwater aesthetic, before we move into the aquarium. Admittedly, both do that anyway, but it’s a nice look – they didn’t just pick the middle of the day for it.

The message that Sherlock texts Mary, “The stage is set. The curtain rises.” has been seen before – it’s what he says in TAB before running an entire Victorian fever dream of a simulation (X). It’s one of the many repeats of lines from earlier in the Mind Palace, but it suggests that after his almost complete revelation about love, the final simulation is at last ready to run. The comparison to TAB is important, because TAB is a rerunning of Moriarty’s death with different players so that he can understand it. We’ve got the same thing happening here – he’s rereunning his own assassination attempt so that he can finally understand what is going on. This is why TAB is so important – we thought it stood by itself, but it’s actually the key to unlock most of s4! More repeats happen as Sherlock meets Norbury – ‘the final act’ is a repeat, as is ‘I never could resist a touch of the dramatic’, which is mentioned in TAB as well as in ACD canon. Sherlock thinks he’s cracked it, but he’s still quoting previous iterations of himself, which is a sure sign that he’s not being true to Sherlock, only to Holmes, and that something is going to go wrong.

[A side note: can anybody identify/has anybody identified Norbury’s brooch? It looks incredibly significant, a face on it, but I have no idea who – the only person who pops into my head is the queen, and that throws up a lot of ramifications!]

Others have explained why Norbury is a mirror for Mary – if we hadn’t already spotted the Lady Smallwood connection, there’s the fact that they are both receptionists, that they use the exact same gun and of course that they both attempt to kill Sherlock to protect themselves. When we read this scene, we should be reading it in the same way it has become completely mainstream to read Ricoletti as Moriarty; Norbury is Mary. She thought she could outrun the inevitable, but somebody has information on her. What happened with AGRA isn’t actually relevant here, because that was all hypothesis – Magnussen has something, and that’s all that matters. Norbury’s wish to get out of criminal mess in favour of domesticity matches Mary’s, seemingly – and in case we didn’t get this parallel, Norbury draws it herself, asking Mary if they don’t just want the same thing.

Sherlock’s deduction about Norbury here, however, can’t straightforwardly apply to Mary – remember, he knows nothing about Mary’s prior life. This, again, is where TAB comes in – this moment is beautifully metatextual. TAB has set up the train of thought about people who were forgotten by history, and put in women as a mirror for queer people – but in this sense, Mary’s canon divergence is important, because the Mary of the original stories was never allowed to be interesting. Sherlock’s biting comments about Norbury’s ‘little life’ are vicious and completely out of character – think of the interest with which he treats Jeff Hope in ASiP, even a slight sympathy, for another ‘proper genius’ who’s been ignored. Sherlock’s bitterness here is personal. He’s talking about the exclusion of the real Mary from the stories that we saw partially rectified in TAB, whereas in the stories she had a ‘little life’ – but also, using Mary is allowing his subconscious to work away at the fact that the same thing happened to him. His queerness forced him to live a similarly ‘little life’, pining for a lost love much like Norbury, and also buying a cottage down south in the stories (although in Sussex). Canon divergence is working for both Mary and Sherlock here, and he’s trying to understand it through Norbury – the one giveaway is the pain brilliantly infecting Cumberbatch’s voice here. Even if we can’t superficially understand why, we know that this is personal.

Everyone has dug into Mary’s death non stop for the last few years, and I’m not sure I can add too much that is new, but my 2c on how Mary’s death happens is thus. Sherlock has finally come to the point where he can play out Mary shooting him and the impact this has on John, and so Norbury takes the place of Mary in this rerun. Sherlock is, ostensibly, playing himself, but at the very last second he substitutes Mary. Many tjlcers have pointed out that Mary’s leap in front of the bullet contravenes everything Molly Hooper says about gunshots and plays into a movie hero stereotype rather than anything realistic, and I think we’re definitely being pulled into something artificial here. Why does Mary jump in front of Sherlock? Well, let’s think about how trauma!Eurus allows Sherlock to interrogate his feelings for John (and vice versa), both as E and Faith, through a heterosexual lens by being gender swapped. This is a key sign that Sherlock isn’t able to process a queer vision of himself yet. If Norbury had shot Sherlock, which by rights she should have done in this scene, we would have seen John having to come to terms with Sherlock’s death and dealing with it suicidally – which is exactly the threat that the shooting in HLV poses. Sherlock can’t emotionally process this yet, so at the very last moment he throws Mary in front of the bullet – because technically, in this shooting, John loses Mary as well. He at least loses the Mary he thought he knew. And so, at the last minute, Sherlock reverts to the superhero Sherlock Holmes story mindset which is devoutly heterosexual and devoutly heroic, and pulls his punch. He refuses to acknowledge the I love part of ‘amo’, only the love. And whilst imagining that John is suicidal, he hypothesises that it is from losing Mary. By the end of TLD, Sherlock’s going to figure out that he was very wrong. But this is why Norbury doesn’t just shoot Mary – that in itself would be enough drama, and it could have created a conflict scene which was really worthy of Amanda Abbington’s dramatic capabilities – the bullet needs to almost hit Sherlock before his mind diverts it back into this incredibly flawed vision of what a Sherlock Holmes story should look like.

An important note, therefore, is that John in this moment is one of the only times we see hypothesis!John rather than heart!John – because Sherlock is trying to understand the danger John is in. It is truly heartbreaking to hear Martin Freeman’s cries here, and the more so to imagine that this is Sherlock’s dying understanding of what John is going through.

Others have pointed out the fantastic projector visual that we get next, as though implying that the whole Aquarium scene is a projection from Sherlock’s mind – it’s important to hint here to the audience that Mary is of course not dead, although because of the reception of series 4 I’m not sure that was entirely grasped! Mary’s coffin is then engulfed in blue flames, in case we weren’t encumbered enough in blue, but there’s also a sense of failure in this. Every time we get that level of blue, waves or fire, engulfing like it so often does in this episode, we’re sinking deeper into the subconscious rather than rising out of it. It’s a hint that something has gone terribly wrong, which is only increased at the end of the episode with the notorious final image of Sherlock drowning. We’re not on our way up here, and we aren’t going to be until the final third of TFP – until then, we have a constant aesthetic of descent into the mind.

The exception, of course, is Ella’s office, which ties into the heaven/ascent theme – it seems as though descent is descent into drowning in thought, but it’s not actually death, whereas death is the abandonment of the EMP project all together, letting it all go to rise up to the sky. I’ve discussed the ascent metaphor in a previous chapter (X) so there’s not a great need to go into Sherlock’s therapy session here. Instead, let’s note a final few things – although Sherlock is tempted to let it all go, thinking there’s nothing he can do to save John from his loss of Mary (Ella therapy scene) he can’t stop his heart from reflecting – John walking around a room with a reflection of dark blue curtains on an immensely reflective table.

A table that also seems to have a cup of tea on it, which represents queer desire. This is the reason he can’t let it go, although his subconscious is still talking to him in symbols. Another important aesthetic is Mycroft looking at the 13th post-it note and then glancing at a time piece – discussed here (X), this is really significant and so obvious as a code that my casual family spotted it (although knowing how to crack the code was beyond most of us, an excellent piece of work by @jenna221b). Mycroft’s fridge is also unnecessarily shiny and reflective, so now we’ve seen that neither the brain or the heart is giving up just yet, and as to be discussed in a later chapter, brain!Mycroft’s final recourse to Sherrinford symbolises moving into the deepest part of Sherlock’s psyche to solve this problem – and the most guarded.

We move back to Baker Street, where we’ve lost heart!John, because Sherlock has denied him. Substitute John is still there, though – the red balloon exists, deflated, weighed down by some books. Books normally represent ACD canon in this show, so it’s not difficult to see the balloon – John in Sherlock’s mind – weighed down by canon expectation of him.

The ‘say the words Norbury to me’ line is taken almost directly from The Adventure of the Yellow Face (not as bad as it sounds!). This story is actually anti-racism, though you’d never tell from the title – it’s about a woman who isn’t allowed to see her mixed race child, and it concludes by reuniting them. The Norbury line comes at the end – Sherlock has seen the mysterious yellow face and overdeduced by a million to think that he’s solving a murder case, when all the disguise is is a woman trying to see her child. This is the same mistake Sherlock has made in his characterisation of his assassination attempt in the Norbury scene – he hasn’t been able to see past his role as consulting detective into the more important world of human relationships, which would have saved us an entire series of dreams for starters. It’s a really important moment in the Holmes canon, as it’s one of the only moments where we see behind the mask – much like The Three Garridebs – and it’s vital here in linking our real Sherlock back to the stories, as though to say that he is hidden in there somewhere.

Mary showing up on a Miss Me? DVD raises the question of how the hell it got there – dream logic, fine. All a bit Forest of the Dead, but it is Steven Moffat. This ties together really nicely at the end and gives us hope that Sherlock isn’t at a complete dead end – Jim Moriarty, who was always back, representing the threat to John Watson, has now taken a much more concrete form in the form of Mary. Mary is the reason John is in danger. Sherlock knew this already, but going up nearly to heaven in the form of Ella, he thought there was nothing he could do – here Sherlock’s subconscious is once again in this episode prodding him through Mary as it will through Eurus, pointing out that he can change things. Mary’s DVD is intercut with Sherlock’s visit to John’s house – is it a coincidence that there are inverted hearts on the railings? (Invert being a euphemism for queer that this fandom is long used to.) Sherlock’s subconscious is crying out to him!! The anyone but you stuff is much more relevant to TLD, so we’ll leave it for then. Mary’s video continues in audio overlaid over Sherlock – others have pointed out that she repeats lines, but the inflection is different – it’s like a dream memory, not a recording, where using just one recording would really have been a lot easier for the editing team. Again, the show is playing with inconsistency, unsettling us.

And finally, the much discussed ending to this show – death waits for all of us, but can it be avoided – as London turns into the water which drowns out Benedict Cumberbatch’s face. We’re only going deeper.

That’s it this time! I’ll see you for our next chapter.

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sarahthecoat

aaahhhhh finally finished this one! 

I’m FLAILING over the books=ACD canon metaphor!! waaaahhhhh!! I wrote up something at least a year ago trying to figure out all the bits and bobs of recorded things, some kind of memory, records kept, feeling around with books, papers, cds, dvds, thumb drives, photos, all these different ways of creating and holding onto a memory. Never really got to anything that felt like an answer. This is one of those dropping into place moments though. there are SO MANY books in this show, 221B is full of them, and of course TBB, the decoder ring, is all about a BOOK CODE, *facepalm*

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reblogged

Chapter 6 – So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish [TST 1/2]

The chapter title comes from the wonderful Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy book series – drop this meta and read them immediately.

No, no he [Moriarty] would never be that disappointing. He’s planned something, something long-term. Something that would take effect if he never made it off that rooftop alive. Posthumous revenge – no, better than that. Posthumous game.

This is what Sherlock says about Moriarty in the very first scene of TST, and on rewatch the application to Mofftiss is startling. Trust the writers – a short-term disappointment for a long-term excitement, if you will. The reference to the rooftop is a way of pointing out just how far back this has been planned – in other words, the seeming randomness of the series is not in fact random. But let’s see how that plays out in TST.

This episode opens, as so many have pointed out, with doctored footage, as though deliberately showing us how stories can be rewritten. However, we only get glimpses of the footage at the start of the episode – the extensive old footage is not security camera footage, but recap footage from s3, and specifically the end of HLV. The idea that there is something classified, hidden, that we don’t have the full story, is meant to be associated with the actual show Sherlock, not just the camera footage – it would have been very easy to give us most of the same footage in security camera style, but they deliberately reused shots from the show to make us doubt their own authenticity. So far, so good.

The first thing that I (and most of my friends) noticed about this scene, however, is that it’s not good. The writing is questionable, to say the least. The serious resolution to the problem of Magnussen’s murder is interrupted by Sherlock tweeting, brotherly bickering, hyperactive and possibly high Sherlock being played for comedy (complete with mock opera). And then, perhaps the worst lines of the show so far:

SHERLOCK: I always know when the game is on. Do you know why?

SMALLWOOD: Why?

SHERLOCK: Because I love it.

Like a lot of this show, think about those lines for more than a nanosecond and they really don’t make sense. You’ve got to think about them for a lot longer before they start to again. This, I think, is where BBC Sherlock’s self-parody really starts. TAB focuses on parodying, critiquing and rewriting historical adaptations, but it’s easy to see the merging of all of the undeniably Sherlock elements into one parodically awful scene. The quick quips that are supposed to be clever and that are so common in Moffat’s dialogue are seen in that moment of dialogue – but the quip isn’t clever anymore, it’s empty. The same catchphrase of ‘the game is on’ comes back, and the quintessential use of technology is referenced in Sherlock’s Twitter account, where again his #OhWhatABeautifulMorning is unfathomably glib. Our Sherlock is also better known than previous adaptations for his drug abuse, and this also gets referenced, but here it gets played for comedy, which is incongruous with the rest of the show – in fact, THoB, HLV and TAB all take it pretty seriously, so to see it played off as a joke is tonally questionable. In other words, here we have Sherlock caricatured as a programme, in one scene – and it’s horrible.

(We should also notice that the use of Twitter is important – it underlies a lot of the glib comedy in this episode, with Sherlock later Tweeting #221BringIt (which is so unbelievably queer?). In Sherlock, Moffat use Twitter rather than Tumblr to comment on fan reaction to Sherlock, probably because their older audience will have no idea what Tumblr is, but also because Twitter is much more mainstream in its appreciation. Twitter takes centre stage in TEH, with #SherlockLives and the scene with the support group. The joke there is about the sheer level of how-did-he-do-it mania that gripped the public – so when we see Twitter again, we should be thinking about an extratextual as well as a textual response to Sherlock, and how Sherlock’s behaviour on Twitter in this episode might caricature the way that he is seen from the outside.)

I don’t truly buy that (in this scene, at least) Mofftiss are critiquing their own show in a straightforward sense, because they have dealt with technology better than this (words on screen, technology as useful within mysteries), drugs better than this (John’s, Mycroft’s and Molly’s reactions to Sherlock’s behaviour as well as Sherlock’s own difficulties) and clever quips far better (pick any episode). But in deconstructing this show to its instantly recognisable elements, and making them worse to hyperbolise the point, that scene strips the show of its heart. Interestingly, it’s also stripped of John, who will be the metaphorical heart of Sherlock through the EMP, but is also the part of the show that is missing when it is caricatured as the Benedict-Cumberbatch-being-clever show. This is also a critique of most people’s perception of Sherlock Holmes as a character through history in the sense of the reductive cleverness – Mofftiss are showing us that this is completely empty.

What does this mean for Sherlock himself, bearing in mind that this is taking place in his Mind Palace? The answer is pretty grim – remember that Sherlock is metatextually grappling with his own identity at this point; he needs to discover the man he is, rather than is portrayed as, in order to get out of this alive. In a psychological sense, then, the opening of TST sees Sherlock deconstruct himself as seen from the outside, and as his psyche has traditionally perceived himself, and realise that that version of himself is hollow. This scene, then, is a rejection of the Sherlock of the public eye, as well as Sherlock’s own eyes.

There is a non-explanation for how the Secret Service doctored the footage of Sherlock shooting Magnussen, the response simply being that they have the tech. If the answer is going to be that vague, there is little reason to bring up the question – except to raise it in the viewers’ minds. Making the audience question their belief in the s4 universe is something that happens very frequently, and this is the start of it. A later chapter goes into the parallels that Sherlock and Doctor Who have, but there’s an important bit from Last Christmas (DW Christmas Special 2014) that is relevant here – the main characters, all dreaming, whenever they are asked any questions that can’t be explained in the dream universe, simply reply ‘it’s a long story’. This is a ‘long story’ moment – where no explanation is given, so questions about reality are raised and unanswered.

Another similar moment comes when Sherlock says he knows exactly what Moriarty is going to do next – how? And, more to the point, it becomes hugely obvious that he doesn’t. Yet, for the first time in history, he feels happy to sit back and wait on Moriarty, because he knows that what will come will come. This insistence that the future will take its course as it needs to might draw our minds ahead to the frankly ridiculous reliance on predictions that we see in TLD – however, it should also draw our minds across to Doctor Who, and to Amy’s Choice, a series five episode I’m going to delve deeper into later, but where because it’s a dream, the Doctor is able to predict every word the monsters say.

Notice that ‘glad to be alive’ is followed by Vivian saying her name – we’ll come back to this later.

Cue opening credits!

Before going anywhere else with TST, required reading is this meta by LSiT (X). I can’t make these points better than she has, nor can I take credit for them. I’m particularly invested in her description of the aquarium and the Samarra story, as well as the client cases that appear and aren’t updated on John’s blog. Our reading will diverge later on – I think this series is a lot more metaphorical than it is hypothesis-testing, although the latter is a notable feature of ACD canon (see the original THotB) that definitely does happen here as well. I’m going to leave the Samarra story, the aquarium and the cases for LSiT to explain, however, and move on.

When we move into 221B, the fuckiness is instantly apparent from the mirror. You can go here (X) to navigate the whole inside of 221B, and I suggest you do; it’s a fantastic resource. The mirror showing the green wall is simply wrong – the angle that this is shot from suggests that we should see the black and white wallpaper, complete with skull etc. Instead, we see the green wall – and the door. We can tell this is wrong because in the ‘wrong thumb’ case about thirty seconds later, the right wallpaper is reflected in the mirror. Another note of fuckiness that we should spot is that Sherlock seems to be taking his cases from letters, in the mail he has knifed into the mantelpiece – this show has been really keen on emphasising that he uses email for the last three series, so the implication that people are sending him letters is even odder than it would be in a modern show anyway.

(Everybody in the world has commented on the ‘it’s never twins’ line – but to reiterate its importance. Firstly, it’s almost identical to the line in TAB, just with ‘it’s’ instead of ‘it is’. TAB repeats lots of things though, because it’s a dream – well yes, but dreams can’t tell the future. So material from TAB being recycled doesn’t point to TAB being a dream, it points to TST being a continuation of the dream in TAB. The fact that they saw fit to reiterate this line in a series about secret siblings also puts paid to the theory that s4 was plotted in a rush and not in line with previous series – there is a theme here, and they’re pushing it.)

And so we move to Sherlock relentlessly texting through the birth, through the christening – horrible, ooc behaviour for him if we think back to how emotional he was at the wedding. Importantly, this behaviour is all tied up with his obsessive Tweeting, which in turn links in to how the outside world (i.e. us) perceive Sherlock – is this the Sherlock that people want to see on screen? Doesn’t he feel wrong? Sure, there’s an element of self-critique in there from Mofftiss, but the incorporation of the phone obsession leaves the blame squarely with the audience. In case we couldn’t already feel that Sherlock’s character is way off, we have his Siri loudly say that she can’t understand him.

We remember from TAB that Sherlock sees himself as cleverer through John’s eyes, and the reasonably sympathetic portrayal we get in TAB we can probably put down to this attempt at understanding himself from the outside. The water in TST is showing us that we’re going in, and the sad thing is that this is almost definitely how Sherlock has come to perceive himself, but just like Siri he doesn’t truly recognise it. It’s also worth noting here the emphasis placed on God in godfather and later the deliberate mentions of Christianity at the Christening – there is also a tuning out of a culture he can’t really align himself with here, which is more important when we think about the fact that this character has been around since the 19th century.

Water tells us we’re sinking deep into Sherlock’s mind, as discussed in a previous chapter. Water imagery is going to be hugely prevalent in TST, but I want to talk quickly about the subtle hints at water even when we’re not in a giant fuck-off aquarium. Take a look at the rattle scene (which always sparks joy). When we get a side angle that shows both Sherlock and Rosie, there’s a black chest of some description behind Rosie – the top is glowing slightly blue, for reasons I can’t fathom. Then we’re going to cut to a shot of Rosie – despite seeing only a second before that there is nothing on her head, there is a glow of blue on it that looks almost like a skullcap. Cut back to Sherlock getting a rattle in the face, and the mirror is glowing the same blue colour behind him. This is all fucky, and it’s a fuckiness which is aesthetically tied to the waters of Sherlock’s mind perfectly. It suggests that Rosie isn’t real, but more important is the mirror. Earlier on I pointed out how the mirror was showing the wrong reflection; here, the mirror is glowing blue, linking it thematically to Sherlock’s subconsciousness. Visually, we’re being hinted at the process of self-reflection that’s going on in Sherlock’s brain – and the opening of TST is showing him getting it terribly wrong. Note that when the mirror jolted right earlier, Sherlock was proclaiming that it had been the wrong thumb – god knows what thumbs have to do with this, but there’s a question of shifting perception on his person, like he’s trying to locate himself.

The glowing blue light sticks around, and seems particularly associated with Rosie, like she’s the focus of much of Sherlock’s thought at the moment. LSiT’s meta linked above has already picked up on the many dangers in Rosie’s cradle decoration, from the Moriarty linked images to the killer whale mobile. Due purely to a lucky pause, I caught the killer whale’s eyes glowing blue, just like the blue from the rattle scene. He’s thinking about her in terms of the key villains of the show as well as the villains in his mind.

I’m not going to comment on the bus scene because I have a chapter dedicated to Eurus moments before TFP – jumping straight ahead.

We then find our first Thatcher case – others have been pretty quick to point out the significance of the blue power ranger in gay tv history (X), and infer that Charlie is queer coded – much like David Yost, who played the blue power ranger, he is not able to come out without being treated badly. This is undoubtedly important, as is the fact that this is the second time in 12 minutes of this show that they’ve shown us how easily film footage can be faked, and someone can be lied to – you don’t need to have Mycroft Holmes levels of clearance, just a Zoom background. This is important too. But the other thing I want to focus on is that he says he’s in Tibet.

Sherlock comes pretty high on my list of top TV shows, but currently Twin Peaks holds the top spot – it’s an unashamedly cryptic show all about solving mysteries through dreams, so no wonder I like it. It’s made by David Lynch, and in the TAB chapter I talk about how TAB takes a lot of structural inspiration from his most famous film, Mulholland Drive, which has similar themes. I don’t think this is anything particularly interesting beyond an attempt to reference the defining work in the field of it-was-all-a-dream film and tv – David Lynch and Mofftiss and Victor Fleming are the only people I can think of who can actually make that plot look good. But this Tibet moment, particularly as we’re going to be hit by another reference to Tibet later, underlining its importance, I think is a reference to this scene (X) where the protagonist, Cooper, outlines a dream in which the Dalai Lama spoke to him and gave him the power to use magic to solve mysteries. Fans of Twin Peaks will know that the magic doesn’t last long – it’s pretty much an introductory way in, and most of the rest of his important deductions will all be made in dreams. This is one of the most famous scenes in the whole programme, because it introduced the world to the weirdness of what had been set up as a straightforward cop show, and despite Cooper rarely (possibly never?) mentioning Tibet again, it’s still highly quoted and recognisable. As a watershed moment in bringing dream worlds into normal detective dramas (something highly frowned upon according to any theory of storytelling!) this is a gamechanging moment, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to point to Sherlock’s several references to Tibet as a link back to this moment.

We then cut back to Sherlock thinking whilst Lestrade tells him more about the case – what is bizarre here, is that John and Lestrade are clearly visible through what can only be described as a rearview mirror attached to the side of Sherlock’s head. If anyone can tell me what that is, I would love to know. I’m going to assume it’s a fucky mirror, because it’s in keeping with the other fucky mirrors so far. The visibility of John and Lestrade in the mirror is even more odd because it doesn’t match the colour palette of 221B at all. Sherlock is lit largely in warm, brown colours, as is Charlie’s father in the previous scene we’re transitioning from – Lestrade and John are lit in dark blue, to the point where they’re barely visible. This looks like a rearview mirror, but not like the one on the power ranger car – it’s a much older car, out of a different time, like so much in this dream world. The only colour palette they seem to match is the one from the s4 promotion photos – you know, when Baker Street is completely underwater.

Drowning in the Mind Palace. Here we are, back where we started. Sherlock might be thinking about the case of Charlie, but he’s actually reflecting on that world we saw in the promo photos, where he’s struggling to stay alive in his brain. Notice that this isn’t just a split shot, it’s specifically a mirror, so we’re meant to focus on this episode as an act of reflection. There are great parallels between Sherlock and the Charlie case which you can find here (X) – essentially, Charlie and Carl Powers from TGG are mirrors for one another both in their names and in the manner they die (a fit in a tight place, basically). Carl Powers is already a mirror for Sherlock – obsessively targeted by Jim for being the best at what he does. Charlie mirrors Sherlock through their shared trip to Tibet (dreamscape alert) and, we think, through the metatextual link of the blue power ranger. In case you hadn’t spotted it, Powers links back to that too – probably coincidence, but a nice one nevertheless. Carl Powers’s death is by drowning, which we shouldn’t ignore in an episode as loaded with ideas about drowning in the mind palace. The fact that the mirror reflects drowning Baker Street aesthetics should make us think that Charlie is asking us to reflect on Carl Powers’s death, but also on Sherlock’s own – already fatally injured (by a fit or by Mary), he is going to die smothered, unable to cry for help (in a swimming pool/carseat costume (?!)/mind palace). The idea that none of these people could cry for help is particularly poignant because so much of series 4 is about Sherlock being unable to voice his own identity, and as we’ll see once he’s able to do that, that may give him the impetus to escape his death. Think of ‘John Watson is definitely in danger’ back in HLV.

Now. Why is Sherlock so keen for Lestrade to take the credit? It’s another reason to bring up the fact that John’s blog is constantly updating – it’s dropped in a lot in this series as opposed to others – and to make us think about why nothing is happening in real life. But, given that this episode is about Sherlock trying to find who he is, is it a rejection of the persona that goes along with being Sherlock Holmes? Possibly, but he’s going to have to go to a lot more effort than that. John’s blog is the real problem here, making not just Sherlock but Lestrade out to be like they’re not. John’s blog is a stand in for the original stories, which were supposed to be written by John Watson, but TAB has already (drawing on TPLoSH) laid the groundwork for the idea that John’s blog/those stories really do not tell the whole story. So this is coming back with a vengeance here, even though for the first time Sherlock is properly moving against the persona in there, not just bitching about John’s writing style, which is a theme more common to Sherlock Holmes across the ages. John then says that it’s obvious, and when pressed just laughs and says that it’s normally what Sherlock says at this point – so again, when Sherlock stops filling the intense caricature of arrogance and bravado, John the storyteller steps in to put him back in line, even though that means pulling him back to being a much more unpleasant character.

A note here: most of the time in EMP theory, I think John represents Sherlock’s heart, and I try to refer to John as heart!John as much as possible when that’s the case. There are a few cases which are different, but most notable are when the blog comes up – then John becomes John the blogger, and our symbolism shifts over to the repressive features of the original stories and how that’s playing out in the modern world. Although a pain to analyse sometimes, I find it incredibly neat that the two of them are bound up in John as source of both love and pain, which fits our story beautifully.

John as blogger continues in the baby joke that he and Lestrade have going down the stairs – they continue with their caricature of Sherlock, but he doesn’t recognise himself in it. Or rather, there’s a moment when he seems to, but he can’t quite grasp onto it. This is typical of the way he recognises himself in the programme. It’s also worth noting that the image of John as a father is particularly tied into ACD, as the creator of Sherlock Holmes, so tying together blogger and father in this scene cements our theme.

Going into the Welsborough house, we get a slip of the tongue from Sherlock which is fantastic. He tells them that he is really sorry about their daughter, which at an earlier point in the show might just be a classic Sherlock slip-up. But mixing up genders is actually something which happens quite a lot in this show, and it’s something drawn attention to as significant in TAB.

Sherlock asks John “How did he survive?” of Emelia Ricoletti, when of course he’s thinking about Moriarty, and John corrects him quickly, much like here. A coincidental callback? Maybe not. What’s the first mistake that Sherlock ever makes? Thinking that Harry Watson is a man. What’s the big trick they pull at the end of S4? Sherlock has a secret sister – and Eurus points out that her gender is the surprise at the end of TLD. Eurus is also an opposite-sex mirror for John and for Sherlock at various points and this allows Sherlock to approach their relations from a heterosexual standpoint and thus interrogate them – more on that later. So gender-swapping is a theme that runs through the show a lot. But the similarity to TAB in particular is important here, because in TAB that was our first obvious declaration that this wasn’t just a mirror to be analysed by the tumblr crowd, this was a mirror on the superficial level that had to be broken through. This callback to TAB is a callback to the mirrored dreamscape. Don’t believe me? Look at what happens next. The second Sherlock sees Thatcher the whole room not only goes underwater, but actually starts to shake – another throwback to recognising that Emelia was Moriarty, when the whole room shakes and the elephant in the room smashes. So, again, we’re being told that this isn’t about this case – it’s about something else, and that something is the elephant in the room. Just like the shaking smashes the elephant in the room, the shaking is what tells us about the smashed bust of Margaret Thatcher. Margaret Thatcher, whose laws on “promoting homosexuality” were infamous. Smashing the elephant in the room and Thatcher simultaneously between 2015, the 1980s and 1895 is hitting the history of British homophobia for the last hundred years summed up as quickly as possible, and tearing it down through Sherlock’s self-exploration. This is a good fucking show.

You’ll also notice that Sherlock is alone in the room, just for a second, when he has his Thatcher revelation – everybody else vanishes. Again, we’re seeing that the rest of the case is an illusion, providing just enough storytime to keep the audience believing in the dream, and possibly Sherlock too.

[There’s a fantastic framing of Sherlock here between two portraits, a man and a woman, seemingly ancestral – I would love to know more about these, because if I know Arwel they’re significant, and the way they hang over Sherlock is really metaphorically suggestive. If anyone has any info on that, it looks like a really good avenue to explore.]

Blue. Blue is the colour of Sherlock’s mind palace, but this scene ties it firmly to the Conservative party. The dark blue of Sherlock’s scarf nearly matches Welsborough’s jumper, which is in fact a better match for the mind palace aesthetic generally. Thatcher unsurprisingly wears blue as well. If blue is the water that Sherlock is drowning in, how interesting that it’s being tied to the most homophobic prime minister of the last 50 years. There was absolutely no need to make this guy a cabinet minister, dress him in blue, even make Thatcher replace Napoleon – I would actually argue that Churchill is a figure who matches Napoleon’s distance and stature much better for our time. Thatcher is an odd choice, and therefore significant. To tie this to the mind palace further, we then get a shot of Sherlock reflected in the picture of Thatcher as he analyses it – a reflection of him reflecting. In case we forgot what this was actually about.

Sherlock not knowing who Thatcher is – perfectly feasible and actually quite important, although something that I’m not going to resolve until my meta on TFP, because that’s where it comes together for me. But Sherlock playing for time with his further jokes about being oblivious (‘female?’) – that, again, is Sherlock actively playing a caricature of himself. He’s not doing it for fun – he’s doing it to cover up his concern about the smashed elephant in the room Thatcher bust.

The weird thing about the reveal of how Charlie died is that we see what should have happened, if everything had gone right, before we see how he died. I can’t recall this happening in another episode of Sherlock, although I could be wrong. It’s marked by the really noticeable scene transition of crackling television static, as though the signal is cutting out. This is possibly a bit of a reach, but there’s one obvious place where we’ve seen a lot of static before.

Moriarty coming back isn’t what’s supposed to happen. It doesn’t happen in the books. We’re telling the wrong story here. (Bear in mind, from previous chapters, that Jim represents Sherlock’s fear that John’s life is in danger.) Just like Jim returning isn’t the right story, but it’s the one that happened, Charlie’s story isn’t the right story but it’s the one that happened – and indeed, Sherlock needing to save John from a dangerous marriage + suicide is not what is supposed to happen – John and Mary are supposed to be married for good (until she dies) in canon. A whole load of false endings – new stories superseding old ones. Mofftiss has an idea that there’s a new story that’s going to be told, and our strongest canon divergence is the end of s3, when we get into the EMP – and from thereon in to TAB it’s off the deep end, and the same is seen here. That TV static is talking about a new medium for a new age and their refusal to deal with established canon norms. Just in case we didn’t remember, outside in the porch we even get a visual reminder of the TV static with a second’s flashback to ‘Miss Me?’ Bad news is, that means Sherlock Holmes rejecting the norms he’s been given (feasibly represented by the hyperbolic nuclear family here) and instead… dying in his mind palace. Less fun. Carl Powers died too. Sherlock still hasn’t got there quite yet – let’s hope he doesn’t.

The next scene is, I think, very important. We come across Mycroft in a dark room with a tiny bit of light – this is really odd, as the obvious place to put Mycroft would be the Diogenes Club. Yet, although clearly more modern, this reminds me most of all of the room we meet Mycroft in in TAB.

The colour palette is the same as the top photo, and the similar chunks of light falling through suggest that we’re in the same place. I’ve brought in a photo from the aeroplane in TAB to show how the light is designed to mirror that of the Diogenes Club in TAB as well – there is a unity in all these Mycroft’s that we shouldn’t miss. Here I can’t imagine I’m the first one to notice that the light in Mycroft’s office is designed to look like a chessboard, which was an important motif in the promotional pictures for s4. Chess is associated with Sherlock’s brain through Mycroft, most notably in THE where it is contrasted with Operation which represents their emotional (in)capacities. So here we are – Mycroft is the brain, if we didn’t already know, and Sherlock has gone to speak to his brain alone much like he did in TAB. Mycroft has already been associated with the queen a lot; they meet in Buckingham Palace in ASiB, where there is a jibe about Mycroft being the queen of England – we can see here in Sherlock’s head that the brain’s power is vastly reduced by comparing these two episodes. The first time we see Mycroft in connection to the Queen we go to the most famous building in the UK. The second time, Sherlock says he’s going to the Mall, which is the street that Buckingham Palace is on, so we are led to expect a reprisal – and instead come here. There is still a picture of the queen on the wall, but apart from that we are in the darkest room of the show so far, whose grating makes it look under siege. Mycroft’s power in Sherlock’s head is vastly reduced, and indeed the brain’s influence (represented by the queen) over Sherlock’s character is waning as Sherlock struggles to come to terms with his emotional identity.

[Crack/tenuous theory: when Sherlock asks John if he is the king of England in s3, in the drunk knee grope scene, this shows that his brain’s control over his emotions have slipped; references to the queen in relation to Mycroft before have shown that Sherlock does know about the royal family, so this has to metaphorically refer to his own psyche and letting go of his brain’s anti-emotion side. Like I say, crack. But I believe it.]

Again, if we weren’t sure about Mycroft representing the brain without the heart, his rejection of the baby photos is sending out a clear message of juxtaposition with John, who represents the heart. We also shouldn’t fail to notice the water coming over Sherlock’s face again as he struggles to recognise what is important about this. This comes as he is trying to recognise what is important about the Thatchers case. I’m going to try to lay it out as best I can here.

We’ve been through what Thatcher represents to queer people of Sherlock’s age, so there’s already a strong metaphor for homophobia being smashed there. However, let’s look at the AGRA memory stick being uncovered. We know (X) that Sherlock deduced his feelings for John as he was marrying Mary, and so having the smashing of the Thatcher bust at the AGRA memory stick reveal is pretty devastating metaphorically. Why does Sherlock constantly think Moriarty is involved? Well, HLV tells us that the Jim in Sherlock’s mind is his darkest fear – and he’s originally tied up in Sherlock’s mind when he’s first shot, but he pretty quickly gets loose. That darkest fear is exactly what Jim says in that episode: ‘John Watson is definitely in danger’. The reason we bring Jim in to represent this is part of deconstructing the myth of Sherlock Holmes. The whole concept of an arch enemy is made fun of in the show, and rightly so; Moriarty himself tells the Sir Boastalot story which lines Sherlock up with that ridiculous heroic tradition that he’s set himself into, which isn’t what Sherlock Holmes is really about at all. Holmes has never really been particularly invested in individual criminals (although there are exceptions –  Irene Adler, for example) – the time he gets most het up is The Three Garridebs, as we all know, when he thinks Watson is dying. It’s his greatest fear, and it’s also what Jim threatens, so Jim has become a proxy for that – and to understand that Sherlock Holmes is not the great Sherlock Holmes of the last hundred years, we have to get under and beyond Jim. Hence what we’re about to see. It’s not Jim, it’s Mary – and this is in very real terms, because Mary’s assassination attempt on Sherlock has left John in danger – but Sherlock won’t put the pieces together until the end of this episode, as we will see.

We should also pause over Mycroft asking Sherlock whether he’s having a premonition – Mycroft is laughing at the concept of Sherlock being able to envisage the future here, which we should remember when it comes to the frankly ludicrous plot of the next episode. Much like the much commented upon “it’s not like it is in the movies” which is there to undermine TST, this line is here to undermine TLD and point out the fact that it can’t possibly be real.

Sherlock describes predestination as like a spider’s web and like mathematics – both of these are to do with Moriarty. In the original stories, Moriarty is a mathematician, and one of the most famous lines from both the stories and the show describes Moriarty as a spider. This predestined future is one that Sherlock doesn’t like – Mycroft points out that predestination ends in death, which is what Sherlock is trying to avoid in this episode, and although Moriarty is never mentioned explicitly, his inflection here suggests that Sherlock is thinking about John subconsciously, without even understanding it. The Samarra discussion brings us back to the question of Sherlock’s death, and links it in with the deep waters of the mind he’s currently drowning in – the pirate imagery becomes really important here, because a pirate is someone who stays alive on the high seas and fights against them. The merchant of Samarra becoming a pirate is not merely a joke about a little boy, it’s a point about fighting for survival – and how will Sherlock later fight for survival? We’ll see him battle Eurus (his trauma, more on that later) head on, literally describing himself as a pirate. Fantastic stuff.

The scene transition where all of the glass breaks and then we cut to a background of what looks like blue water is a motif that runs through this entire episode – we’re smashing down walls in Sherlock’s mind, most particularly the Thatcher wall of 1980s homophobia, and indeed the first picture we see is that of the smashed bust.

Moving on – before we go back to Baker Street, there’s a shot of the outside – that features a mirror, reflecting back on 221B in a distorted, twisted way. Another mirror that is wrong – we’re reflecting in an alternate reality. These images keep popping up. It’s echoed in Sherlock’s deduction a few seconds later – by the side of his chair is what looks like either a car mirror or a magnifying glass, possibly the one from the Charlie scene, distorting his arm. It’s placed to look like a magnifying glass, whether it is or not, which ties in with the classic image of Holmes – but that image is distorted, remember.

Others have pointed out that when Sherlock falsely deduces that the client’s wife is a spy working for Moriarty, he should really be talking to John – and, in fact, this is another proof that this isn’t really, because otherwise this is pretty touchy stuff to be making light of in front of John. Instead, let’s remember this is Sherlock’s Mind Palace – John isn’t John here. What Sherlock does a lot in s4 – and nowhere more than the finale of TST – is displace a lot of his real world problems onto other people because he cannot handle the emotional impact of them, and that’s what he’s doing here. He’s trying to come to terms with the danger that Mary poses, but he can’t do it with John – hence why this scene has a John substitute, because that’s what the client is.

Note that the red balloon is over the Union Jack cushion, reminding us that this scene is about John in danger (see this post X). However, what’s important here is that Sherlock has got it wrong. He’s currently trying to work out why what has just happened with Mary poses so much danger, and he’s imagining Mary as the worst threat he possibly could – in a word, this Mary is a supervillain. But Mary is not a supervillain; he’s got this all wrong, and even as he says it, it’s completely ridiculous. This is not the danger Mary poses – and so out the door the client goes, and we’re back to square one, trying to work out exactly why John is in so much danger.

I’m not going to pause over the next moment of importance for too long because many have covered it – let’s just notice that Sherlock’s face is overlaid with a smashed Thatcher bust, and remind ourselves that these are the walls of homophobia in Sherlock’s brain. Also note that this matches the half-face overlay of the water in the previous scene, linking the two (although the scene with Ajay later will cement that anyway).

Next up: Craig and his dog. Nothing can be said about dogs that hasn’t be said in these wonderful metas by @sagestreet (X). Nevertheless, let’s note that this dog is coloured the same as Redbeard, and Mary (a Sherlock mirror in this episode, and in this scene – their clothing matches, and their joining of skillsets to exclude John is the link that has always united them as mirrors) compares John to the dog. We know from the metas linked above that dogs are linked to queerness in the show, but let’s remember that John here is not John – John represents Sherlock’s own heart. It’s going to take longer than this for Sherlock to acknowledge John’s queerness. I don’t think Toby the dog is that important – instead, this is foreshadowing for the more significant dog to come in TFP. The dog also allows for another bit of self-parody in the show – the close-up on the dog running through chemical symbols and the map link directly back to the chase scene in ASiP, but this time everything is different. We have no clue really what Toby is chasing or what the crime that has been committed is – they’re not even running, they’re walking! All we have are cool, if ridiculous, graphics – and, brought down to style without substance, it’s nothing but comic parody. This is important because the opening of TST is so parodic – we’re back to questioning whether the things that people associate with Sherlock and think they like about Sherlock are the right things. The fact that Toby reaches a dead end here is important – he’s a weird loose end to have hanging through the episode. When things in Sherlock normally tie together so nicely, this is a section which has absolutely no bearing on the rest of the plot other than to look a bit silly. But fundamentally, we’re talking about the superfluity of style and image here; we’ve been talking about it for a long time in relation to previous adaptations, but TST brings it in in relation to Sherlock itself.

Skipping past more bust breakages, the next scene is John and Mary in bed together – and the first thing we see is them, once again, in a mirror. There’s nothing wrong with this mirror (as far as I can tell) – everything seems to be in order! But it doesn’t break the theme of mirrors misreflecting, because this is the scene that introduces unreliable narration on a big level – this is the scene which deliberately excludes John’s texts to E. John and Eurus are gone into in another chapter so we’ll move on again.

Craig’s quote about people being weird for missing the olden days is, of course, crucial to this reading of Sherlock. It’s pretty on the nose for a show whose protagonist is idealised in the Victorian age – and sums up Mofftiss’s feelings towards the Vincent Starrett 221B poem that I elaborated on in the TAB chapter of this meta: essentially, that it always being 1895 is a very bad thing! Craig’s mockery of this nostalgia puts it into more comprehensible modern terms for us, but it also links Thatcher and 1895 again as pasts to be broken with. It’s also important that Craig says that Thatcher is like Napoleon now – although the titles of most episodes are taken from ACD stories, it’s rare that an explicit reference is made to the link between the titles (nobody mentions scarlet vs. pink in ASiP, for example). This is the first time that I can find that Sherlock shows self-awareness from within the narrative that there are extranarrative stories being played out. I’ve said before that I don’t think Thatcher and Napoleon are a good comparison; whether it is or not, Craig’s reference is actively pulling a metatextual part of Sherlock’s history into his story and forcing him to reckon with it. This is important, because he develops expectations of how this story is going to play out (black pearl of the Borgias) which are wrong – because they’re based on what he has learned to expect of himself as fictional character. We could only have such a reference within the Mind Palace.

For the sake of splitting this meta up to make it readable, I’m going to call time on this half of TST, and we’ll pick it up tomorrow at Jack Sandiford’s house. (Also I don’t know how much text tumblr allows and this is a long document.) Until then!

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sarahthecoat

wow, this is such a good read!!

I am loving the teasing-out of these metatextual bits, where before we were on the level of “here’s a little easter egg from this or that ACD story” (but how exactly does it make sense in this text?) You’re showing WHY those references are here, and it’s on a whole new level. I think years ago, welovethebeekeeper wrote some stuff about Sherlock Holmes becoming self aware as a fictional character, but I never really quite grasped it, and that blog got deleted. (SIGH, I wish nobody ever deleted anything, but such is life) I feel like I am starting to catch on here.

This also makes some sense out of the self-parody aspect of the show that made me extremely uncomfortable with S3, and again with S4. It *is* a really unusual and weird thing to do with a top shelf tv show, and I don’t blame anyone who doesn’t like it (I don’t, particularly!). But this is what we have, so let’s see if we can figure out what they ARE doing, having got the complaining that they aren’t doing what we wanted, out of our systems. Using it to smash the awful and inaccurate portrayals of the character is brilliant. Smashing homophobia is also brilliant. We don’t WANT it to be “always 1895″ ffs. We don’t want a Sherlock who is a sociopath, he’s NOT. Neither do Mofftiss, and they are rubbing the superficial audience’s noses in it.

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reblogged

Chapter 5 – Hey, Soul Sister: Who is Eurus?

Do you get it? She’s his sister? But metaphorically, she’s a part of his soul? I was very impressed with myself for this title. Anyway…

This chapter of the meta is going to deal with the various times we meet Eurus before TFP and what this might mean, which will help us to understand who she is once we have stripped off the disguises.

Before series 4, we had real!characters and MP!characters set up as distinct entities, particularly in TSoT, which distinguishes between MP!Mycroft (the deducing brain) and real!Mycroft, as well as MP!Irene representing desire and real!Irene, who doesn’t come near the episode. The MP section in TSoT, for a lot of people in the fandom, broke down Sherlock’s psyche into MP!John vs. MP!Mycroft – and John is clearly winning.

However, I want to suggest that Sherlock’s psyche isn’t nearly so straightforward as a tug of war between the brain and the heart. Whilst MP!Mycroft undoubtedly represents the oppressively reasonable part of Sherlock’s psyche, that’s not the only thing repressing him – it can’t be. If it were simply a rejection of ‘sentiment’, this wouldn’t be the powerful queer love story we know it to be – there is a lot more internalised homophobia being dealt with than just love being illogical. That’s where Eurus comes in.

Eurus and Mycroft are parallel oppressive forces in Sherlock’s brain, but they’re oppressive in different ways. Having family members and childhood trauma be the psyche’s symbols for repression is particularly poignant in a queer love story, for obvious reasons. However, I want to take you through my reasoning behind Eurus being the most secret and troubled part of Sherlock’s soul.

The first clue is that her prison is called Sherrinford. We all assumed that the third Holmes sibling was going to be Sherrinford back before s4, and it seemed that way in the beginning, with Mycroft mentioning speaking to Sherrinford several times, construing it as a person rather than a place. This is no coincidence – for those who aren’t familiar with the history of the stories, Conan Doyle’s original name for his protagonist was Sherrinford Holmes, which he later changed to Sherlock. That Eurus is trapped inside Sherrinford is a clear suggestion that Eurus is something that’s trapped inside Sherlock – a dangerous MP entity. More important than that, Sherrinford is the version of Holmes that never made it into the books. Plenty of people have worked on queering the Holmes canon and working out what ACD might have been implying and leaving out and arguably none more so in an adaptation that Mofftiss. Let’s think about the implications of this. A kind of second self, not shown to the public, buried inside your mind and forgotten since childhood, which is bursting out into a moment of acute psychological distress. Gee, I don’t know what that could be about. The Sherlock that Sherlock thinks he is has thus far been dominated by MP!Mycroft, but this series is about uniting canon!Holmes with the non-canon, queer Sherrinford who has always existed, judging by the name, and who is currently dominated by the destructive MP!Eurus. The other important point to note here is that Sherrinford is an island in the middle of the sea – that’s not a coincidence, given how much water imagery abounds in this series. I spoke briefly in Chapter 2 X about how water represents Sherlock sinking deeper and deeper into his own subconsciousness – this is the deepest he can go. In Greek mythology, Eurus was the name of the wind most associated with causing storms at sea X – this isn’t a coincidence either. She’s very deliberately tied in with water.

(In real life terms, of course, all this means that a real!Eurus probably does or did exist in some form, although I can’t begin to hazard a guess about this. However, I’m trying to refer to her as MP!Eurus when she’s in her normal form in the MP, in case we get a series 5 with Sian Brooke as real!Eurus, and also to distinguish her from therapist!Eurus etc.)

This is my reasoning as to why MP!Eurus represents Sherlock’s innermost trauma. She is not merely the fact that he loves John – he deduced this in TSoT without her appearance. She is the trauma that he needs to come to terms with. A running theme through our analysis of Eurus will be that her gender is particularly important; her representation of Sherlock’s repression cannot be but as a woman, because for most of s4 he is only able to process his identity through the most heterosexual of lenses. We see this hinted at quite early on in TST, when Sherlock takes on a case called ‘The Duplicate Man’, warning John that it is never twins. The word ‘duplicate’ here, removing twins, leaves us with the only real possibility that it is in fact the same person. Eurus’s gender makes that more difficult to see; she needs to be female, but it’s much more difficult to elide the two characters without employing a Cumberbatch doppelganger. However, this hint that Eurus is not only male but an actual ‘duplicate’ of her brother should give us pause for thought. With this in mind, I want to use the rest of this chapter to analyse her three forms before TFP.

1.)    Faith!Eurus

I’m certainly not the first to point out that Faith!Eurus is a mirror for John, nor will I be the last – people jumped on it pretty much as soon as TLD aired. There are a few good reasons for this. Firstly, she walks with a cane, a throwback to ASiP – in case we’d forgotten, however, Sherlock has a flashback to John walking with a cane to make the link explicit. We are supposed to link these two characters, the authors are saying pretty clearly. Faith!Eurus is also suicidal, which John was at the start of ASiP, as made clear by the fact he carried a gun – and Faith!Eurus does the same. Sherlock also takes her out for food (for more on the food/sex metaphor, see here X) which he doesn’t with anyone bar John, and we certainly never see him talk so easily with someone who isn’t John. An eagle-eyed tumblr post that I can’t find now also broke my heart in pointing out that Faith!Eurus’s unseen self-harm matches long-sleeved John Watson a little too well.

This isn’t just the show trying to remind us of what John was like in ASiP, however. MP!Eurus is the trauma prodding Sherlock’s sexuality – it’s going to be hell to get through it, but he absolutely needs to do it. This is Sherlock’s trauma, not reminding him that John was suicidal, but forcing him to acknowledge it in the first place, something which Sherlock has buried. We know this because of the way the image of John forces its way into Sherlock’s mind – it’s much like the way Moriarty breaks into TAB. His brain is making a connection that he’s not quite capable of making and it’s knocking him. His deduction that Faith!Eurus is suicidal is accompanied by that image of John, and he then re-enacts the food ritual he completed with John the evening John left his cane behind, before throwing Faith!Eurus’s gun into the Thames – proving that it was Sherlock himself who stopped John from taking his own life.

This is trauma, however, and Sherlock can’t process it in full – hence why the image of John that breaks in is shaky, and Sherlock tries to push it out of his head. It’s also why Faith!Eurus, who in Sherlock’s subconscious could take any form, specifically takes the form of a woman. His gay trauma means that he first has to process John’s suicidal ideation in a heterosexual dynamic, before fully grasping and applying it to his relationship with John. (Chapter 9 X explains how that plays out over the rest of TLD in full detail.)

2.)   E!Eurus

Taking a jump back to surface level plot here, the first thing that grabbed me about E!Eurus was just how minor John’s flirtation with her was. In the terms of a television show which really rides on very high drama (multiple faked deaths and insane cliffhangers for a start), the emotional peak of John’s emotional arc with Mary being that he texted another woman – not went out for lunch, not kissed, not slept with – is bizarre, particularly when we know next to nothing about E!Eurus at this point. It’s incredibly anti-climactic as a means of John falling short of Mary’s view of him. Maybe we can accept it as in line with John Moral-Principles Watson, but it’s difficult to accept as in keeping with the nature of a show whose intent is nearly always to shock.

With this in mind, let’s delve back into the MP to see how that might give this moment greater emotional significance. Chapter 10 X is on the hug scene, and that will deal with John’s revelation of his infidelity in greater detail. For the moment, the most important thing to remember is that John Watson is not real!John – he is heart!John. In other words, we are seeing a similarly heterosexualised re-enactment of Sherlock’s relationship with John.

I will talk a lot in Chapter 10 X about how MP!Mary is linked to Sherlock’s compulsory heterosexuality; at the end of TST, Sherlock substitutes Mary’s body for his because he cannot conceive of John’s queer grief without breaking himself. This is interesting because the E of Eurus actually stands for Elizabeth in this scene (certainly in the credits, and possibly elsewhere, although I can’t remember Sian Brooke actually saying it). Elizabeth is Elizabeth is Mary’s middle name in BBC Sherlock, which looks like another of those shared name links our creators love so well. If so, this begins to justify how Sherlock’s heart is conceiving of its emotions. We will see in TLD that heart!John’s relationship with fem!John in the form of Eurus is aligned with Sherlock’s sexual desire in the form of MP!Irene. Both are hidden and exist only in texts – i.e., they cannot be spoken yet. But they will be.

3.)    Therapist!Eurus

This one is perhaps the most straightforward on a symbolism level, but also possibly the most significant moment in the series. Therapist!Eurus, plain and simple, is Sherlock’s trauma prodding at John, interrogating him like a therapist would, trying to work him out – and largely failing, right? She can get basically nothing about how he feels about Sherlock out of him. But this is part of MP!Eurus’s ongoing project to get Sherlock to wake up – the Gay Trauma is interrogating John, trying to suss him, and failing.

Except, in the final scene of TLD, without the help of Therapist!Eurus, Sherlock has finally sussed John – it has taken until Culverton’s confession to recognise that John is suicidal without Sherlock (Chapter 9 X). The sigh of relief that is the hug scene (Chapter 10 X) is a kind of acknowledgement of that relief that he’s finally worked out what he’s been trying to cover up with drugs – so much so, that he misses the obvious, which is that John is suicidal again. When John leaves his cane with Sherlock in the hospital, it is a reminder of the first time he is suicidal, and Sherlock doesn’t make the immediate leap in his comatose haze that this is what his psyche has been trying to tell him. Hence you have this moment of immense relief and fade out at the end of the hug scene which suggests the end of the episode, and could feasibly end Sherlock’s life, except we’re started awake with a much more abrupt and troubling ending scene – Therapist!Eurus shooting John. Because, of course, if Sherlock is gone again, John must be suicidal again, and it has taken a few scenes of cognitive dissonance for this to clock. Indeed, it’s not Sherlock himself who clocks – Gay Trauma in the form of Eurus!Therapist returns and shoots John for us. This shooting isn’t, of course, permanent (in one of the worst cliffhanger resolutions in TV history), but that’s because it’s not real – it hasn’t happened yet. It is Sherlock, through MP!Eurus, finally recognising the problem – John.

This is particularly poignant in light of the opening and closing shots of TLD. Although there’s the fucky not-blood red that fills the screen at the end of TLD, apart from that the shots of Norbury shooting Mary and Therapist!Eurus shooting John are one and the same shot. It’s also a stylish shot (what I call split screen, but given that I never went to film school I think that’s just my name for it) and it’s repeated enough times over TLD that it’s pretty clear the creatives want it to be memorable. By the time John gets shot, then, we shouldn’t be caught up in the drama of it – we should be thinking, as so many did, “something’s fucky.”

And it is – but it’s brilliantly fucky! Head over to Chapter 7 X if you want to read about Norbury shooting Mary, but TLDR it’s a metaphor for Mary shooting Sherlock as understood from Sherlock’s warped and depressed perspective – and he’s finally realised what it means! The version in which Mary shooting Sherlock means John losing Mary (the Norbury version) is one in which John is sad, goes to therapy, and the world moves on. Now, however, that Sherlock has recognised that John was suicidal, he can also recognise that Mary shooting Sherlock will make John suicidal again – hence why it’s the same shot. Mary shooting Sherlock is the same as John dying – and the latter is much more important in Sherlock’s mind.

[It’s worth noting that the identical shots we see in TST and TLD don’t match the shot in HLV, although admittedly that one’s not in the MP – it does strike me, however, that the sounds are reversed – HLV sounds like a dart, whereas the MP shots sound like bullets. If anyone has any thoughts on that, do let me know – it has me flummoxed for the moment. If you want meta explaining why the shot from TST is the same as HLV, Chapter 7 is here X, and I’m certainly not the first to hypothesise this. For me, the TLD shot being the same is therefore a logical extension.]

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sarahthecoat

One reason “mary”s gunshot in HLV doesn’t sound as loud as you would expect, is that the gun has a silencer on the end of the barrel. But it’s interesting that you point out, it SOUNDS like a dart gun, and the gun in TLD sounds (and looks!) like a real gun, but then we’re TOLD it was just a dart. Something is definitely fishy about that, and they wrote that, so it’s not an accident. I think you’re right that we are meant to connect these, it’s all part of Sherlock running these scenarios to work out “what to do about John”. Certainly the framing of the “mystery gun” in TLD would be Sherlock’s POV in HLV when “mary” shoots him. I’m not sure there has ever been another setup in the show where a character is pointing a gun directly at the camera like that. (it’s been a while since I watched ASIP, where it’s kind of implied at the end, but is it shown?)

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