Conan Doyle Visits Tunbridge Wells
Conan Doyle Visits Tunbridge Wells is an article written by Julian Symons published in the A.C.D. - The Journal of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (Vol. 3, 1992).
This review assesses Mark McPherson's one-man portrayal of Arthur Conan Doyle (An Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) at the 1992 Tunbridge Wells weekend, praising the conviction and vitality of his stage presence. While admiring the performance, it suggests that the script underplays the full complexity and later achievements of Conan Doyle's life.
Conan Doyle Visits Tunbridge Wells
Mark McPherson
Tunbridge Wells 1992
A few words of introduction and then he makes his entrance, visibly the man himself. Arthur Conan Doyle, come to talk to the Society that bears his name, in Tunbridge Wells. He looks just as we had known he would from photographs: a bulky, powerful figure, dressed informally in hacking jacket, brown waistcoat and trousers, watch-chain crossing waistcoat pockets. The delivery is brisk and friendly, that of a practical man a little surprised that a Society exists to honour him. The voice is a shade less Scottish in accent than when seen on film, but perhaps he has made one of his visits to the United States and brought back a residual flavour of that one-time colony's pattern of speech...
This was Mark McPherson, come from Michigan to give us An Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, one carried through with absolute conviction. His hands, large and eloquent, sometimes grip his lapels: they are clenched in front of him when making a point, or occasionally put behind his back. His manner is genial, easy, and unpretentious as he tells us 'I'm a writer story-teller'. Then he seems to put on height and power when admitting his enjoyment of sport and his skill at it I was always a physical sort of lad.' He leads us through the family background to the hard days at Stonyhurst, and is shrewdly humorous in announcing the verdict of one master: Arthur Conan Doyle, you will never come to any good.' On to Edinburgh University, and a brilliantly effective change of voice and manner as he briefly impersonates Dr Joseph Bell, whose deductions provided a basis for those of Sherlock Holmes. Bending down, hands on knees, he is momentarily the cobbler who is astonished that Dr Bell should know his occupation.
I heard nothing but praise for Mark McPherson's interpretation, and thought him a legend come to life. I hope it won't seem churlish to add that the actual material was more suited to American and Canadian audiences (before whom it has often been delivered) than to an English one composed of people who found most of it familiar. It seemed to me that Mr McPherson had the ability to put on a one-man show as enthralling as Emlyn Williams' Dickens or Alec McCowen's Kipling, but that his material was not quite adequate to bring out all his skills. This was in part because the narrative concentrated very much on the early years before the birth of Sherlock Holmes. So there was no room for the Great War (or even the Boer War). Slater and Edalji, the unfashionable views on art and philosophy, the attempt to enter Parliament, the conversion to Spiritualism, the interest in scientific achievements and possibilities, the moments of unalloyed exultation and unalleviated grief.
Hold on, Mr McPherson might say, my time was limited. Of course that is true. I am only saying that Conan Doyle's life was more various and more exciting, his achievement infinitely greater. than was suggested here. A richer, more dramatic script would give Mr McPherson full scope to show the whole range of his subject's achievement, and to enlarge and enrich his truly spellbinding portrait.
- Article courtesy Christopher Roden, founder of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (1989-2003).
