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A review by eak1013
The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes: The Adventures of the Great Detective in India and Tibet by Jamyang Norbu
3.0
Alas. Alas and alack. The first half, three-quarters of this novel were awesome, a really lovely pastiche, maybe the best I've read so far, and the last few chapters veered off into an entirely different story that I was far less inclined to enjoy.
Holmes in India, with an Indian scholar-spy filling the role of Watson yet not trying to be Watson oh frabjous day, a cracking good mystery, all sorts of atmospherics - A+A+A+. A real treat to read, especially hard on the heels of the Russellian [b:The Game|8611377|The Game (Mary Russell, #7)|Laurie R. King|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51skBxnqx2L._SL75_.jpg|74673], with a similar heavy dollop of [a:Rudyard Kipling|6989|Rudyard Kipling|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1183237590p2/6989.jpg]'s [b:Kim|210834|Kim|Rudyard Kipling|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51D2NX0Z4AL._SL75_.jpg|1512424], but for once with an Indian narrator - a slightly different, very welcome perspective. Lovely. The way the author plays with the narrative voice and dialogue is a delight.
And there were footnotes.
Then. Then. Um.
Spoilers for the end.
Then the author chose to make Holmes the reincarnation of a Tibetan monk, battling a not-quite-dead Moriarty, who was in fact an evil Tibetan monk before the monk-later-known-as-Holmes, um, brain-zapped him to stop his evil ways, leaving him drastically wounded psychically and convinced he was English. The final battle was all about Moriarty attacking Holmes (and the Dalai Lama) with a magic stone while Holmes fought him off with powerful mudras.
And, okay, I'm totally all about taking a classic story, a classic character and recasting that story/character in another culture, another history. It's a remix! I love remixes! Which is why I loved the first chunk of this book so much. New setting! Everything seen through a new prism! Lovely!
But in the context of all of the reincarnation and Buddhist warrior magic, Holmes at one point rushes to the rescue of the Dalai Lama because he "just knows" the lama is in danger.
Just. Knows.
Explicitly states he has no evidence but is going only on gut feeling and certainty.
Which is ultimately explained by his reincarnated/soul transferred/magic Buddhist warrior status, but that's the point at which it stopped being a Sherlock Holmes story for me. The whole point of Holmes is that he never "just knows." Reading a Holmes story should be a rollicking adventure, driven by a dash of crazy logic. Sure, there can be an epic showdown in a deserted temple beneath a glacier, and I'll even give you a supernatural battle for the climax and conclusion, but for me, at least some part of that battle should be a battle of wits. A battle of figuring things out. And as much as I loved Moriarty getting taken down by Huree's umbrella, Holmes's suddenly-revealed superpowers just threw me right out.
(Seriously. There is a point at which, during a moment of danger and crisis, one of the monks begs Holmes to "remember who you are!", at which point he does, and magical shenanigans ensue. It verged on Neo's "I know kung fu.")
I've got no problem with the political message or the spiritual content or weaving Holmes into the history of Tibet. I've got no beef with Sherlock Holmes suddenly plunged into a supernatural world, even with his own supernatural powers. But when those supernatural powers are suddenly more important than Sherlock Holmes being, y'know, Sherlock Holmes, then you lose my delight as a reader.
And, oh my god, how did I go from being an idly interested reader of Sherlock Holmes a year ago to someone who has intense. feelings. about the very essence of the character and what he means? I blame you, [a:Laurie R. King|6760|Laurie R. King|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1269062114p2/6760.jpg]. I blame you, [a:Steven Moffat] and [a:Mark Gatiss|74861|Mark Gatiss|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1289072440p2/74861.jpg]. And, yes, I must blame you, too, [a:Arthur Conan Doyle|2448|Arthur Conan Doyle|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1289836561p2/2448.jpg]. ::shakes fist::
ETA: I've figured it out. My problem is that this book fails to adhere to the oath of the Detection Club: "Do you promise that your detectives shall well and truly detect the crimes presented to them using those wits which it may please you to bestow upon them and not placing reliance on nor making use of Divine Revelation, Feminine Intuition, Mumbo Jumbo, Jiggery-Pokery, Coincidence, or Act of God?" I assumed I was reading a novel that adhered to these standards, so the Divine Revelation took me by (unpleasant) surprise.
Ah, leave it to [a:Dorothy Sayers|8734|Dorothy L. Sayers|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1206564934p2/8734.jpg] to hit the nail on the head. Jiggery-Pokery, indeed.
Holmes in India, with an Indian scholar-spy filling the role of Watson yet not trying to be Watson oh frabjous day, a cracking good mystery, all sorts of atmospherics - A+A+A+. A real treat to read, especially hard on the heels of the Russellian [b:The Game|8611377|The Game (Mary Russell, #7)|Laurie R. King|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51skBxnqx2L._SL75_.jpg|74673], with a similar heavy dollop of [a:Rudyard Kipling|6989|Rudyard Kipling|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1183237590p2/6989.jpg]'s [b:Kim|210834|Kim|Rudyard Kipling|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51D2NX0Z4AL._SL75_.jpg|1512424], but for once with an Indian narrator - a slightly different, very welcome perspective. Lovely. The way the author plays with the narrative voice and dialogue is a delight.
And there were footnotes.
Then. Then. Um.
Spoilers for the end.
Then the author chose to make Holmes the reincarnation of a Tibetan monk, battling a not-quite-dead Moriarty, who was in fact an evil Tibetan monk before the monk-later-known-as-Holmes, um, brain-zapped him to stop his evil ways, leaving him drastically wounded psychically and convinced he was English. The final battle was all about Moriarty attacking Holmes (and the Dalai Lama) with a magic stone while Holmes fought him off with powerful mudras.
And, okay, I'm totally all about taking a classic story, a classic character and recasting that story/character in another culture, another history. It's a remix! I love remixes! Which is why I loved the first chunk of this book so much. New setting! Everything seen through a new prism! Lovely!
But in the context of all of the reincarnation and Buddhist warrior magic, Holmes at one point rushes to the rescue of the Dalai Lama because he "just knows" the lama is in danger.
Just. Knows.
Explicitly states he has no evidence but is going only on gut feeling and certainty.
Which is ultimately explained by his reincarnated/soul transferred/magic Buddhist warrior status, but that's the point at which it stopped being a Sherlock Holmes story for me. The whole point of Holmes is that he never "just knows." Reading a Holmes story should be a rollicking adventure, driven by a dash of crazy logic. Sure, there can be an epic showdown in a deserted temple beneath a glacier, and I'll even give you a supernatural battle for the climax and conclusion, but for me, at least some part of that battle should be a battle of wits. A battle of figuring things out. And as much as I loved Moriarty getting taken down by Huree's umbrella, Holmes's suddenly-revealed superpowers just threw me right out.
(Seriously. There is a point at which, during a moment of danger and crisis, one of the monks begs Holmes to "remember who you are!", at which point he does, and magical shenanigans ensue. It verged on Neo's "I know kung fu.")
I've got no problem with the political message or the spiritual content or weaving Holmes into the history of Tibet. I've got no beef with Sherlock Holmes suddenly plunged into a supernatural world, even with his own supernatural powers. But when those supernatural powers are suddenly more important than Sherlock Holmes being, y'know, Sherlock Holmes, then you lose my delight as a reader.
And, oh my god, how did I go from being an idly interested reader of Sherlock Holmes a year ago to someone who has intense. feelings. about the very essence of the character and what he means? I blame you, [a:Laurie R. King|6760|Laurie R. King|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1269062114p2/6760.jpg]. I blame you, [a:Steven Moffat] and [a:Mark Gatiss|74861|Mark Gatiss|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1289072440p2/74861.jpg]. And, yes, I must blame you, too, [a:Arthur Conan Doyle|2448|Arthur Conan Doyle|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1289836561p2/2448.jpg]. ::shakes fist::
ETA: I've figured it out. My problem is that this book fails to adhere to the oath of the Detection Club: "Do you promise that your detectives shall well and truly detect the crimes presented to them using those wits which it may please you to bestow upon them and not placing reliance on nor making use of Divine Revelation, Feminine Intuition, Mumbo Jumbo, Jiggery-Pokery, Coincidence, or Act of God?" I assumed I was reading a novel that adhered to these standards, so the Divine Revelation took me by (unpleasant) surprise.
Ah, leave it to [a:Dorothy Sayers|8734|Dorothy L. Sayers|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1206564934p2/8734.jpg] to hit the nail on the head. Jiggery-Pokery, indeed.