The "Return" of Conan Doyle
The "Return" of Conan Doyle is an article written by Mark McPherson published in the A.C.D. - The Journal of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (Vol. 1, No. 2) in march 1990.
The article recounts the conception and development of An Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a one-man stage production created to restore attention to Conan Doyle as a man eclipsed by Sherlock Holmes. It frames the project as a quest for historical and personal "justice," shaped through close collaboration with Conan Doyle's daughter and leading Sherlockian figures.
The "Return" of Conan Doyle
With the debut of my production of "AN EVENING WITH SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE", I have frequently been asked how I decided to resurrect, and furthermore, to dramatically "become" one of my childhood's hidden heroes. The answer, I suppose, would be, quite simply, "Justice". But allow me to explain.
I use the phrase "hidden hero" in terms of Conan Doyle, mainly because, upon my introduction to him via the Sherlock Holmes stories, over thirty years ago, the author seemed well concealed behind his invention. The years since then have reversed that impression for me, even in spite of the best and fanciful attempts of American Sherlockians and British Holmesians to sustain Holmes' uniquely (im)mortal status.
As faithful readers of the Baker Street saga know, tongue-in-cheek authorial credit is usually ascribed to Conan Doyle's literary and medical alter ego, Dr. John H. Watson. Thus have the sixty "Canonical" Holmes adventures emerged as faithful biographical accounts of the Great Detective. In such a fashion have the "Sacred Writings" been interpreted as "the Gospel according to Watson", rather than according to Conan Doyle.
With the emergence of Sherlockian scholarship, initially influenced by Monsignor Ronald Knox's Studies in the Literature of Sherlock Holmes (1930), a legion of theoretical efforts have served to constitute what might well be called the game of Sherlockian Pursuit. This has ranged extensively from pastiches involving Holmes and a coterie of other contemporary personages, to even the incredible thesis that Conan Doyle somehow served as Watson's secretive agent in matters literary, brazenly submitting the good doctor's work in his own name!
For more than half a century, such irregular undertakings as these, have succeeded in breathing new life into the archetype of an Actual Holmes, whose reality eventually eclipsed even that of his creator.
As more than a dozen biographies have demonstrated, Arthur Conan Doyle was a real, ingenious and, perhaps, even more accomplished man of his age than any single character of his own devising. From this brain, not only did the Great Detective emerge, but also the extended company of Watson, Moriarty, Nigel Loring, Professor Challenger, Brigadier Gerard and many others. All of those give example to the author's own autobiographical lines in his poem The Inner Room, where he admitted:
- There are others who are sitting,
- Grim as doom,
- In the dim ill-boding shadow
- Of my room.
- Darkling figures, stern or quaint,
- Now a savage, now a saint,
- Showing fitfully and faint
- In the gloom.
Since childhood then, I have been "in search of Conan Doyle", and he has long been on my mind. This was certainly so in the summer of 1987, when I found myself in London and bad the great good fortune to meet the last of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's five children.
Jean Conan Doyle is a fascinating woman even apart from her status as the daughter of an illustrious father. A retired Air Commandant of the Royal Air Force and Dame of the British Empire, Lady Bromet (she is the widow of Sir Geoffrey Bromet) proved to be a charming and stimulating hostess when she agreed to receive me at her London flat.
Our conversation covered so many interesting topics before I pointed out the paradox of how familiar the readers and general public felt with Homes, without any large number really knowing a great deal about his creator.
"My father was one of Nature's true gentlemen", smiled Dame Jean. "There have been occasions when they've tried to portray him in films or documentaries, but none of them have shown him as he was."
Yes, as my hostess had pointed out, I knew that Hollywood and its British counterparts bad formerly attempted to bring Conan Doyle to life, albeit briefly, but without success. I recalled the disaster of Peter Cushing as Sir Arthur in a "T.V. Movie" about Harry Houdini, and then the aquiline-profiled Nigel Davenport cast as Conan Doyle in "The Great Edwardians" series for B.B.C. Television. Apart from Cushing and [[Nigel Davenport|Davenport] being English gentlemen and fine actors, neither man had hit the mark for me, nor for Jean Conan Doyle who, as she observed, "dught to know".
It was then I suppose, that I managed to surprise even myself by suggesting an idea which, in simplest terms, concerned a form of "unique, dramatic tribute' to Conan Doyle. The proposal, for such it was, began as a question put with some trepidation:
"What would you think of bringing your father back, to speak for himself, to new audiences as well as to those who think they know him well?"
The attractive, sad-eyed lady seated across from me studied her tea cup, replaced it upon the table before her, and seemed to straighten visibly in her chair. She was sizing me up, I could feel it and something more, by the way her glance remained fixed upon me.
"What I mean to say by this is to "re-present" your father in a form of dramatic portrayal, perhaps a kind of "Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle", I stated. "In the vein of so many recent "one-man shows concerning historical figures, I can think of no reason why he would not seem a perfect choice."
No reason indeed? Well, said the small sceptical voice deep within, perhaps there were a hundred good reasons unknown to me to explain why my own Great Idea, or anything remotely like it had never yet been attempted. Perhaps it had something to do with the lady who sat there so placidly, if only to hear me out. Placidly? Yes, I thought, but also strong-willed as I'd already heard.
"Of course, such a project as you describe would require the right sort of script. would it not?" asked Lady Bromet.
Feeling myself edging through a potential mine-field, I replied: "To get the sense of the thing, to accurately capture how your father spoke and came across, yes indeed. Perhaps there is a parallel here to a presentation many years back by the American actor, Hal Holbrook, and his "Mark Twain Tonight!"
"And I take it that you might be interested in trying this work out, and in developing it?'"' she asked. (Again that look from those eyes, her father's eyes, riveting me.)
"Yes," I answered, "I'd like to have a go at the script. After that, if it wouldn't seem presumptuous, I'd like to try presenting the character myself on stage. I feel comfortable in the dramatic setting, and, well, I've been told by Sherlockian friends that I bear a sort of long distant resemblance to your father. With a shorter haircut and my beard gone, you could be the best judge of that.'
Moments ticked away as the shadows lengthened over the room. Finally, the silver haired lady smiled at me and nodded. "Yes, the resemblance to my father is definitely there," she admitted. "Especially around the eyes. In fact, I have been thinking of how alike you are to him ever since you arrived."'
And that, as they say, is how my long-term "sea-change" into Sir Arthur Conan Doyle began. The weeks and months which followed that auspicious London meeting with Dame Jean found me buried in Doylean research. After voluminous re-reading, I set to the task of creating a "prompt-book", comprising every relevant aspect of Sir Arthur's life, from childhood to his final days. Succeeding that, the outline for the first draft of An Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was made.
My work begun now in earnest, I slowly sought out the sense of the man as he spoke, as opposed to his writing style. As part of this saturation effort, I studied the 1929 Blackhawk Film interview with Sir Arthur, an unusual venture shot outdoors in the garden of Windlesham, his Sussex home. From the film and from two extant vocal recordings, I attempted to analyse the "Conan Doyle sound", making elaborate notations, a la Professor Henry Higgins, on my subject's spoken inflections, Scottish intonations, typical pauses and the general rhythm or cadence of his voice.
A month after beginning, I managed to complete a first, two-hundred page draft of my Evening. With trepidation I sent the hefty sheaf and an "audition tape" of my in-progress "Doyle dialect" to Dame Jean, and also Stateside, to such Baker Street Irregular cohorts as John Bennett Shaw, Peter Blau and Jon Lellenberg. What would eventually become a massive correspondence was also initiated at this time with a number of respected Doylean friends, all of whom I felt might offer helpful suggestions for improving my Creation.
In June 1988 I returned to London with the sole purpose of discussing the first phase of my script with Dame Jean. By now, after a number of exchanged letters and telephone conversations, she better understood my creative intentions, and I, in turn, was pleased by her own special interest in the matter. That interest was furthered over the course of more than 20 hours we spent reading through every page of my script, which Dame Jean had already begun to annotate.
I will always remember those days spent with Dame Jean as a series of interesting, as well as amusing, episodes. One case in point, early on, was my suggestion that she "call out, or ring a bell" should she hear anything in my reading which demanded review. To may amazement, that dear soul took me quite literally, got up from the sofa and soon reappeared with a decorative china bell!
"This was sent to me as a gift by a nice young American woman," she explained. "Yes, this will do nicely. Now then, do read on."
Research, revision, discovery of incredible, un-noticed errors of fact or assumption in my script, all of these filled the time between the late summer and autumn of 1988. By November, I was scheduled for business back in London, where my wife and I would also spend our Thanksgiving holiday. While in town, we were to take in a performance of The Secret of Sherlock Holmes starring Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke. I had eagerly looked forward to seeing these two in person, and wondered how Brett, an avowed Doylean, might consider my plan to "bring Sir Arthur back', via the medium of the stage?
My curiosity was answered when I discovered that Dame Jean had already discussed my project with "Sherlock Holmes". This news led to a brief back-stage meeting with the actor, followed by a later get-together, at which Jeremy Brett introduced me to his playwright and friend, Jeremy Paul, who had written The Secret which was playing to full houses at Wyndham's Theatre.
"When Jean first told me about what you're going to do, I said to her 'how can I help'?" explained Brett.
Face to face. it occurred to me that even out of the Holmes persona and wardrobe, it was a difficult business not to think of Brett as the Great Detective. I told him of my pleasure at having Dame Jean's co-operation, and of my thought of possibly finding a future professional venue for a "name" actor to play Conan Doyle.
"Before I met you, I would have said that was the only way to go," intoned the embodiment of Sherlock Holmes, inhaling deeply from his cigarette. "But now that we've met and talked, I can see you can do this thing yourself. You definitely have "the look" about you, and now what you must do is to tighten up your script and look for a good director. Also, the prospect of a one-man play demands an on-stage breather. I'd suggest, perhaps, the voice of Holmes talking to his creator. If you'd like, I'd be glad to record the part, if you think it'd be of any help".
I listened on to Brett and nodded mechanically, never expecting to find myself in such heady company. Likewise the interest of Jeremy Paul, who was interested enough to offer to have a look at my Evening, and offer his comments. "Any help?" Brett had asked. I knew anyone would be crazy pot to accept assistance or advice from Sherlock Holmes — so I did!
Suffice it to say that while I've been refining An Evening with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, several interesting situations have developed. In Britain, the foundation of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society became a perfect springboard for word of my project to leak out, and since that time, the American world of Irregulars and Doyleans has seemed to relish the promised "Return of Sir Arthur."
Of course, I am pleased to say that my friendship with Jean Conan Doyle has brought us closer in ways which have not even impinged upon my attempt to "become" her father. Nevertheless, she has honoured me by publicly stating that there is a resemblance between us in more than the physical sense. "I believe that my father would have enjoyed meeting you and discussing your researches into the mysteries of the world', she wrote to me. "I'm certain that the two of you would have got on well together."
I am also pleased to observe that as we attempt to bring "justice" (my original word) and new attention to the reputation of Arthur Conan Doyle, some things appear to be balancing out on their own. There is evidence that, even among the host of Sherlockians, a new appreciation of the "other doctor' in Holmes' life is growing. In Britain, France and Japan, the groundswell of re-evaluating the work and achievements of Sir Arthur is accelerating, and, for that, I am glad. In some ways, perhaps, it may pave the way for my own efforts at trying to step, ever so briefly, into the great man's shoes — if only for the duration of a performance:
Yes, it's been a strange process, this business of "becoming" a legend. Frequently, I feel daunted, even in retrospect, by the scope of this undertaking. Would a saner man than I have envisaged this thing, and come so far? I wonder. And will we succeed in conjuring up something of the personal magic of Conan Doyle, as the original was said to do, both on and off the page? Time alone will tell. To pull off this job, one needs to be both mystical and blessed enough, not to mention having the kind assistance of Sir Arthur's daughter and moral support from "Sherlock Holmes" himself! For that, I'm doubly glad.
I have often pondered these things, especially at night, when I take long solitary walks. This frequently gives me a good chance to bellow out my Evening lines, if only for a shadow audience. Times like these, I'm reminded of the "why" behind my idea for this venture, and how much the journey thus far has changed me. Perhaps the reason, as we Sherlockians like to say, is "For the sake of the (Doylean) trust."
And then there are the omens. On an evening stroll late last winter, I remember pausing before a vacant lot and observing a builder's sign reflected in the moonlight. Stark below the frozen treescape, a name on the lone placard seemed to jump out at me with its prophetic meaning. It said "DOYLE CONSTRUCTION COMPANY: LET US BE YOUR MAJOR REBUILDER". I paused, read the sign, then nodded towards something unseen ahead, beyond the dark woods.
- Article courtesy Christopher Roden, founder of The Arthur Conan Doyle Society (1989-2003).
