Image from here.
Last night witnessed the return of Sherlock to television screens, dealing with some compromising photos and some shady state secrets. Since studying them for an entire semester in my second year, I have been a huge fan of Conan Doyle's original stories; one of the reasons I respected the first series last summer was how loyal the writers had been in appeasing the likes of me (super nerds). It's the only adaptation I have ever been remotely satisfied with - in terms of both characterisation and setting.
I have to say that A Scandal in Belgravia (A Scandal in Bohemia, if you want to read the relevant short story) was just as beautiful and brilliantly-paced as Series 1. Benedict Cumberbatch makes an amazing contemporary Great Detective - he has the 19th century attitude and arrogance perfectly attuned to the i-phone era; similarly, Lara Pulver made a suitably slinky Irene Adler.
However, if I could make one complaint, it would be that their relationship was over-romanticised - which I was slighly saddened by as its the temptation all adaptations seem to be unable to resist. Adler only appears in one story, and is significant because she beats Sherlock in sleuthing - she is indeed referred to in other stories as "the woman", but there is little or no romantic undertone to their relationship. All the same, I greatly enjoyed the episode and I'm looking forward to next week's installment.
Today is incredibly gloomy and the world outside my window is wreathed in fog. If I could, I would let my mind run around the streets of similarly murky Victorian London with Sherlock. Instead, I seriously need to get on with my essays. Sigh.
(Oh, and another thing I love - Watson's blog is "real").