I have SO MANY FEELINGS about this book that it is hard to grapple them into words. So I am posting a bunch of little comments zeroing in on this or that.
Just now, I've been thinking about the recognition scene. Another extremely Holmesian parallel, where the disguised guy gets into the other guy's office under false pretenses, then other guy looks away, and the disguised guy unmasks in some sense.
In Holmes, Watson seems to have absolutely no idea, until he turns around and Holmes has whipped off his disguise. And we have the very emotionally satisfactory fainting, with Holmes ministering to him with brandy.
With Archie, it's interesting, more prolonged. At first he's in the same boat as Watson, no recognition, though Archie has more of an excuse because their first meeting is side-by-side in a car late at night. Then Archie takes him up to his office, and there's more light in the elevator so he can see more details, but perhaps tellingly, "Roeder" slumps against the wall with his eyes closed for the whole ride.
But in the office, there's something in Archie that instinctively knows Wolfe even before the reveal, although he tells us he didn't consciously understand this yet:
I put it [the phone] back on the cradle, looked at him, got a straight clear view of his eyes for the first time, and felt a tingle in the small of my back. But I didn't know why.
Someone--I think it might've been Parhelion?--made some observations back in the day (was it on the Yahoogroups list? I cannot remember) about the interesting import of Archie's nervous system recognizing Wolfe via a tingling specifically in the small of the back. It's a very primitive, intimate spot, and it bypasses the conscious mind entirely.
Wolfe, like Holmes, gets his partner to turn his back, but then in Wolfe's case he reveals himself with his voice, dropping his nasal Roederishness, and that tells Archie instantly.
Archie, true to form, tries to pretend that he knew all along, but of course Wolfe knows he didn't; what's interesting is that we know it too, we were explicitly told. This isn't a case of the unreliable narrator trying to convince us that he didn't cry or wasn't scared, so we get an inside look at him bluffing to Wolfe (and how Wolfe is actually correct).
There is no demonstrative-Victorian fainting spell, alas, but I am nevertheless moved by the scene. Archie starts in with sarcasm, about how "What I really enjoyed was the suspense. Were you dead or alive or what? A perfect picnic."
And Wolfe replies with an open (as open as these two usually get, anyway) appeal for...what? It's hard for me to put a name to. Detente, rapprochement, forgiveness, welcome?:
"I expected this, of course. It is you, and since I decided long ago to put up with you, I even welcome it. But you, also long ago, decided to put up with me. Are we going to shake hands or not?"
I don't know, that just gives me feelings, despite being so restrained compared to Watson pitching headlong to the floor and Holmes loosening his collar. Wolfe is reminding Archie of their bond, that Wolfe knows him and welcomes even his venting-via-snark. And he reminds Archie that Archie in turn knows him. And, he makes it a question rather than a command, asking whether Archie will take him back--he leaves it up to Archie.
Not even to mention the handshaking, which is not something Wolfe does if he can avoid it.
I got up and went halfway. He got up and came halfway. As we shook, our eyes met, and I deliberately focused on his eyes, because otherwise I would have been shaking with a stranger, and a hell of a specimen to boot. We returned to our chairs.
There's something so ritualized and intense about this moment. They meet halfway, in a literalization of the idiom of compromise. It's silent, this physical contact, with Archie staring into Wolfe's eyes.
*hand waving* I don't know, you guys! I just get kind of feelingsy over this stuff!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-09-06 07:36 pm (UTC)Just now, I've been thinking about the recognition scene. Another extremely Holmesian parallel, where the disguised guy gets into the other guy's office under false pretenses, then other guy looks away, and the disguised guy unmasks in some sense.
In Holmes, Watson seems to have absolutely no idea, until he turns around and Holmes has whipped off his disguise. And we have the very emotionally satisfactory fainting, with Holmes ministering to him with brandy.
With Archie, it's interesting, more prolonged. At first he's in the same boat as Watson, no recognition, though Archie has more of an excuse because their first meeting is side-by-side in a car late at night. Then Archie takes him up to his office, and there's more light in the elevator so he can see more details, but perhaps tellingly, "Roeder" slumps against the wall with his eyes closed for the whole ride.
But in the office, there's something in Archie that instinctively knows Wolfe even before the reveal, although he tells us he didn't consciously understand this yet:
Someone--I think it might've been Parhelion?--made some observations back in the day (was it on the Yahoogroups list? I cannot remember) about the interesting import of Archie's nervous system recognizing Wolfe via a tingling specifically in the small of the back. It's a very primitive, intimate spot, and it bypasses the conscious mind entirely.
Wolfe, like Holmes, gets his partner to turn his back, but then in Wolfe's case he reveals himself with his voice, dropping his nasal Roederishness, and that tells Archie instantly.
Archie, true to form, tries to pretend that he knew all along, but of course Wolfe knows he didn't; what's interesting is that we know it too, we were explicitly told. This isn't a case of the unreliable narrator trying to convince us that he didn't cry or wasn't scared, so we get an inside look at him bluffing to Wolfe (and how Wolfe is actually correct).
There is no demonstrative-Victorian fainting spell, alas, but I am nevertheless moved by the scene. Archie starts in with sarcasm, about how "What I really enjoyed was the suspense. Were you dead or alive or what? A perfect picnic."
And Wolfe replies with an open (as open as these two usually get, anyway) appeal for...what? It's hard for me to put a name to. Detente, rapprochement, forgiveness, welcome?:
I don't know, that just gives me feelings, despite being so restrained compared to Watson pitching headlong to the floor and Holmes loosening his collar. Wolfe is reminding Archie of their bond, that Wolfe knows him and welcomes even his venting-via-snark. And he reminds Archie that Archie in turn knows him. And, he makes it a question rather than a command, asking whether Archie will take him back--he leaves it up to Archie.
Not even to mention the handshaking, which is not something Wolfe does if he can avoid it.
There's something so ritualized and intense about this moment. They meet halfway, in a literalization of the idiom of compromise. It's silent, this physical contact, with Archie staring into Wolfe's eyes.
*hand waving* I don't know, you guys! I just get kind of feelingsy over this stuff!