I am Sherlocked.

I’m not usually an advocate of adaptation from literature to screen. I’ve suffered far too many disappointments, worsened by the fact that I’ve usually read the original first, and find that old cliché of ‘the book is always better’ only too true. But I’m currently reversing my usual method, having become a massive fan of the BBC’s recent modernisation of the Sherlock Holmes series, and this has yielded some unexpected results.

I’ve never seen the famous Basil Rathbone films, and am a little too young to remember the Jeremy Brett TV series’ of the eighties, although I do have vivid memories of visiting the Baker Street set on a trip to Granada Studios as a child, so that obviously made a lasting impression. But it was really Sherlock that served as my introduction to this national treasure, and now I don’t know how or why I left it undiscovered for so long.

As a lifelong avid reader, long term student of literature and Victorian novel enthusiast, I’m ashamed to admit that I have never read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s books before. They’ve always featured on my reading list of good intention but, I think as a result of my disinterest in the crime genre, have been repeatedly shuffled to the bottom in favour of something else. I only promoted them to top of the pile at the beginning of this year, and have been hungrily devouring the four novels and five volumes of short stories devoted to Sherlock Holmes ever since. I’m thoroughly enjoying the clever tales, engaging writing and have developed something of a crush on the hero himself. I’m aware that I would be of little interest to the famously asexual and emotionless consulting detective but, were I able to travel back in fictional time, I could see myself becoming a sycophantic follower as ardent as Dr. Watson himself.

I’m also impressed by how faithful the writers and actors of Sherlock have remained to the source material, especially with regard to making the most of the obvious differences and surprising similarities in the time periods concerned. Bringing it into the 21^st century may upset the purists, but to me it makes perfect sense. Holmes was a man at the cutting edge of forensic science and criminology before they were even recognised practices, and it’s fitting that he should be given the opportunity to utilise technology in furthering his brilliance. If anyone reading this is as slow to catch on as myself, I suggest you watch and read these remarkable pieces of work, I can’t recommend either highly enough.

As well as giving me a new obsession, my current reading material has also reawakened an old one. The Victorian era is probably my favourite ever when it comes to literary and cultural history, and I’ve neglected it for quite a while. In my humble opinion, some of the world’s greatest fiction was born of this fascinating, fast-developing time of immense change, when the British Empire reached its peak, industry was rife, the Pre-Raphaelites reformed art and Darwin challenged everyone’s perception of the origin of our species. It’s also been credited with defining the concept of the novel itself. I could talk about this forever, but I’ll do my best to keep it interesting, brief and to the point as I’d like you to heed my recommendations and come back and read my blog again in the future.

The writing of any time gives a clear reflection of life, and the political and social issues within it, and we need look no further than Dickens to find the stark juxtaposition of society’s richest and poorest, or the Bronte sisters to show how women had begun to seriously elevate their standing. Then there were those who wrote only of the upper classes, but used those characters to perfectly satirise their own flaws. If you have never read Oscar Wilde, stop reading this and go and do that instead. Immediately. The complete works. If The Picture of Dorian Gray doesn’t change your life, then I’m sorry to inform you that you have no soul.

Then there was the gothic revival, which brought some of my most beloved books into the world. Shelley’s Frankenstein, Stoker’s Dracula, Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the many amazing stories of Edgar Allen Poe. The late Victorian period also saw a resurgence in children’s fantasy fiction, and I would also suggest Kipling’s The Jungle Book and Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as essential reading for anyone, regardless of age.

There are even some outstanding examples of contemporary fiction set in the nineteenth century which I will happily endorse, such as Sarah Waters’ trilogy, Philip Pullman’s Sally Lockhart mysteries, and the epic The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber. The advantage of these modern books is being able to feature all the murky, scandalous elements of society that couldn’t be discussed at the time, making them all the more compelling. These too have been very well adapted for TV, but if you must watch them, I implore you to read the books as well.

Apart from providing an irresistible window into an exciting phase of human evolution, I think what I love most about all these books are the locations themselves. Victorian London in particular presents a uniquely varied setting, where chimney sweeps, prostitutes, businessmen and bankers alike share its smoggy, cobbled streets, adorned with cloaks, top hats and corsetry, and travelling in steam trains or hackney carriages. By night, upper crust society events can be contrasted with the criminal underworld of opium dens, rippers and whore houses and it all creates such a rich setting for stories and sagas of any genre.

Maybe I’ll write one myself, and mention Mr. Sherlock Holmes in the acknowledgements, for being my muse.

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