Jean Conan Doyle: An Appreciation
Jean Conan Doyle: An Appreciation is an article written by Mark McPherson published in the A.C.D. - The Journal of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (Vol. 8, 1998).
This article is a personal tribute to Jean Conan Doyle, recalling the author's friendship with her over many years and her support for his dramatic work on Arthur Conan Doyle. It portrays her as a generous, memorable figure in Doylean studies and closes with an affectionate reflection on her death and enduring legacy.
Jean Conan Doyle: An Appreciation
I now stand among the company of those who had the privilege and good fortune of knowing Jean Conan Doyle as a friend. Our relationship harks back to more than a decade ago, when my wife and I were invited to tea at Dame Jean's Cadogan Square flat.
Looking back upon that time now, however, it remains as crystal clear as the spirit of she, who to me will always remain 'The Woman' of Doylean studies.
Dame Jean was not only kind to a stranger, but complimentary as well. I recall her words when hearing my explanation of a secretly-harboured notion of writing a one-character drama which would have Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the starring rôle:
'And would you be interested in portraying my father?' she enquired. 'For, you know, you do so resemble him. I've been thinking this from the moment you walked through the door.'
Those magic words did, in fact, catapult me into a maelstrom of academic research, travel, frustrations, as well as interviews with a variety of principals with regard to my imminent dramatization/ personification of 'ACD'. But among all of those confidants and resources, always at the pinnacle of the mountain, so to speak, was Dame Jean.
Oddly enough, I believe that our liking of one another stemmed not from my considered dramatic projects, as much as my interest in Jean as a person. Less than a year after our initial meeting I was back in London on the trail of my script for 'An Evening With Sir Arthur Conan Doyle'. I had returned to Cadogan Square in order to go over the play, word for word, with the one person in the world whom I believed held the keys to the truth I was seeking.
Around noon we took a break from play-reading, and Jean had suggested lunch. However, she observed rather ruefully that she needed to do some shopping. I countered by offering to accompany her, if only to serve in the capacity of what we deemed that day to be the debut of the 'Armstrong Shopping Service'. Such an appellation was repeated and renewed in a variety of ways over subsequent years: the Armstrong Birthday Service, Christmas Service, etc.
I also recall telling Jean, in one of our fairly regular telephone conversations, about an old Mystery magazine I had discovered, dated 1933. The cover story emblazoned there was 'Daughter of Sherlock Holmes'. I kidded Jean that someone had written about her, and she seemed to be amused by the notion, as well as by my suggestion that, given the matter of paternity, literary or otherwise, she was probably closer to Holmes's sister!
The upshot of my effort to bring Conan Doyle to the stage also took a number of shapes. First off, my 'Evening' did allow me the opportunity of taking this fanciful 'platform performance' to a variety of stages, formal and not. From Toronto and Detroit to Tunbridge Wells, with dozens of stops in between, I did my best to conjure up a visual, vocal, and philosophical dimension of Jean's late father. Yet, even as I did so, I was certain of one cardinal fact: I would always fall short of Jean's personal picture of her energetic and always fascinating 'Pops'.
Despite the awareness of my own shortcomings however, I discovered that my evolving portrayal of the creator of Professor Challenger, Sir Nigel, and even 'that astute detective', was unfolding rather like the fabled quest for the Grail. For here, as I have always known, the real success was in the seeking, rather than the finding.
Looking back now there are so many memories that might be alluded to here. For example, Jeremy Brett's initial offer to 'help me become Doyle', and even, most regrettably, our later disagreement concerning not Sherlock Holmes, but Dame Jean. It was odd, really, 'Doyle' and 'Holmes' at odds once again! Yet here were the two of us both seeking the approval of 'a certain gracious lady' regarding our characterizations, with both of us in turn being offered her criticisms as well as her praises.
And now our friend is gone, but only in the physical sense. Less than a year before her death I sat with her in that familiar flat and we discussed the prospects of 'what had been achieved' in her father's name. Also I was still mining data for my future production, 'The Untangled Skein', designed to be a sequel of sorts to my first Doylean drama.
But even then, as I sensed that this would perhaps be my last meeting with Jean, we also spoke of certain beliefs which converged upon those held by her father, whose Spiritualist convictions all but decimated the conventional notions of death. We spoke about the prospect of passing on, even as we all must. Jean, who had been. ailing from a medley of problems, recalled something her late [step-] sister had said prior to her own demise. Yet by the nature of the comment I quite easily understood that this was my friend who was also speaking for herself.
'There are times when you feel your bags are packed and you are standing in the station waiting, but somehow the train never arrives, she said. The point of this remark had to do with the sense of feeling one's self too tired or ill to carry on; even to the point of regretting awakening each morning.
As I have come to understand it, my recorded interview with Dame Jean Conan Doyle may indeed be the last of its kind which had been managed. Truth to tell, I have played it only once, for still the sting of my friend's passing is keen. And yet, preceding it there are also other interviews, a file folder of correspondence, and the memory of a decade's worth of calls and exchanged greetings.
Upon my shelf there is also a photograph which I cherish, taken of myself standing between Jean and Georgina Doyle, upon the occasion of the unveiling of the Conan Doyle Plaque at Crowborough a few years back. On that day not only was the history of our trust furthered, but I felt myself to be in its living presence. Yes, that magical day, as well as the next, when Jean, Georgina, another friend, and myself went out to Windlesham for a 'private exploration'. You might imagine the thrill of being guided through Jean's childhood home by the lady herself, even as she narrated a hundred things which were trivialities to her, but bits of gold to her listeners.
Tempering our sadness, I believe, is the prospect that at last Dame Jean finds herself in a better place. Ideally she is with her beloved husband at last, and no doubt she was met upon her arrival by none other than Sir Arthur himself, praising his 'Billy' for her years of faithful service in keeping, what so many regard as, the sacred flame burning so well. Yet that flame seemed often to overshadow her own life, which was richly diverse apart from anything that ever came from her father's pen.
How lucky you have been, I now find myself musing. For meeting Jean Conan Doyle; for earning her interest and trust; even for the sake of being allowed to attempt, however briefly, to dramatically embody the image of her father.
Above all, however, I am cheered by the fact that after a lifetime. in which she managed to touch so many of us, darling Jean has made her crossing at last. No further need to stand waiting at the station. I like to think that she heard its sound, then saw the welcome and blessed shape of the express just ahead, even as it beckoned its passengers toward what most certainly is 'the greatest adventure of all'.
- Article courtesy Christopher Roden, founder of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (1989-2003).
