The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Foreignness and 'The Other' Quotes

How we cite our quotes: Citations follow this format: (Story.Paragraph)

Quote #1

The largest landed proprietor in [Boscombe Valley] is a Mr. John Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned some years ago to the old country. One of the farms which he held, that of Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was also an ex-Australian. The men had known each other in the colonies, so that it was not unnatural that when they came to settle down they should do so as near each other as possible. Turner was apparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his tenant but still remained, it seems, upon terms of perfect equality, as they were frequently together (Valley.17).

Not to be obvious or anything, but the thing about the British colonies is that they are so gosh-darned far away from England. This means that Turner can try to leave behind his history of robbery in Australia by coming to "the old country." But it also means that he has no protection against someone like McCarthy, who won't allow him to start a new life. Australia in this story seems to represent Conan Doyle's simultaneous fear of and fascination with the colonial system as a whole: it offers great rewards (gold), but also great personal and moral risk.

Quote #2

It was with his barmaid wife that [James McCarthy] had spent the last three days in Bristol, and his father did not know where he was. Mark that point. It is of importance. Good has come out of evil, however, for the barmaid, finding from the papers that he is in serious trouble and likely to be hanged, has thrown him over utterly and has written to him to say that she has a husband already in the Bermuda Dockyard, so that there is really no tie between them. I think that that bit of news has consoled young McCarthy for all that he has suffered (Valley.114).

Again, freedom of travel leaves people exposed to a greater range of wrongdoing – both that they become tempted to commit or that others do. After all, if her husband hadn't been in Bermuda, this barmaid could never have drawn McCarthy into a marriage he would come to regret.

Quote #3

"One day – it was in March, 1883 – a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon the table in front of the colonel's plate. It was not a common thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. 'From India!' said he as he took it up, 'Pondicherry postmark! What can this be?' Opening it hurriedly, out there jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down upon his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope which he still held in his trembling hand, 'K. K. K.!' he shrieked, and then, 'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!'" (Orange.38).

One thing that Conan Doyle reassures us about is that, in spite of all of this modern moving around, you can't leave your evil past behind: murder will out, as the saying goes. Again, this seems like further evidence of some kind of cosmic justice at work in Holmes's world.

Quote #4

Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying in strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads thrown back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, now faint, as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of the metal pipes. The most lay silent, but some muttered to themselves, and others talked together in a strange, low, monotonous voice, their conversation coming in gushes, and then suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling out his own thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his neighbour. At the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside which on a three-legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon his knees, staring into the fire.

As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth (Twisted Lip.14-6).

This dark and dangerous space of the opium den is strongly associated with two things: moral decay and Asia. We see here the Malaysian attendant; the den itself is owned by a "Lascar," a racialized term for an Indian soldier. Conan Doyle may not approve of the Ku Klux Klan, but he is also not free of his own racial stereotypes.

Quote #5

When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and held it against the light. "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison? I'll lock it up in my strong box now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it" (Carbuncle.69).

The Blue Carbuncle in this passage seems like a distillation of both the danger and the attraction of colonialism. The featured stone is immensely valuable, sure, but the means of its circulation through the world, from China to London, comes at the high price of "two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies." Yikes. Staying put and avoiding such things seems like one potential recipe for safety in this otherwise topsy-turvy world.

Quote #6

Violence of temper approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of the [Roylott] family, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe, been intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the village, and folk would fly at his approach, for he is a man of immense strength and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger (Band.25).

Going abroad and then returning again has (a) made Roylott a stranger in his own village and (b) worsened characteristics he already had. What we find interesting in this passage is that Helen Stoner is really laying out a case for nature and nurture as factors that contribute to criminal behavior. Yes, Roylott's violence has gotten a lot worse since his time in India, but he also has a long family history of madness. Conan Doyle's not just giving us a criminal; he has given us a scientific-sounding explanation for how Roylott got that way. It's not that much of a leap from this passage to later FBI-type criminal profiles on TV or in the movies.