nineveh_uk: Illustration that looks like Harriet Vane (Harriet)
[personal profile] nineveh_uk
I have just seen a rec for a fic with the following summary:

Ireland, 1920. There's a war on, but no one seems to be playing by the rules. John Watson, injured and unemployed after his time at the Front, joins up with the special forces sent over to keep the peace, but when he meets Sherlock Holmes, the second son of the local lord, he begins to lose track of which side he is on.

It is difficult to believe that it is going to go well. Maybe the author has done an absolutely brilliant job and successfully avoided the many pitfalls involved in setting their c.120,000 words fandom AU in another country during a war that has numerous rumbles extending into the present-day. If so, good for them! But on the balance of probabilities, probably not.

To some extent I sympathise with the author, having been involved in a recent discussion on FFA about the total lack of fandom activity associated with The Jewel in the Crown*. But even less than my qualifications to write TJitC fic that isn't prequel or future-fic for Sarah Layton set in England, is the chance of success in, for example, writing a Sherlock AU set in British India during WWII with Sherlock taking the role of Ronald Merrick.**

It's not that I think there is material that fandom shouldn't touch. I do think that there is material that if fandom touches it, the chances of doing it well are probably quite small for lots of people. Especially when they lack personal engagement with, or high level academic study in, the subjects concerned.

[ETA: There's something to be added here about genre, ambition, the genre-tourism element potentially involved in AU (tropey or otherwise), comedic licence, the nature of the original canon, and how they all complicate things.

Also, I am now imagining a wide variety of ludicrous crossovers with TJitC. Merrick is definitely one of Crowley's successes. It's practically canon. Barbie has probably met Aziraphale.]

*Challenge number one, it's long and dense.

**I am suddenly imagining a Jewel in the Crown bakery AU, in which Merrick is the son of a corner shop keeper who has risen to regional manager in a supermarket chain and who can't stand their bread sales being challenged by an upstart Polish version of Greggs.
lilliburlero: (ecumenical)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
Oh, bloody hell. No, scratch that, I'm not reading it. Life is too short and I have done my quota of boggling for this week.

(Also, 'lilt-tongued' makes me think of the sickly 'tropical' fizzy drink.)
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
Please. Someone has to and the author (as per lj profile) is based in Washington DC and therefore:

(i) I'm English (well, apart from the 1/8 Plunkett/Byrne combo) and I don't think I've visited Ireland (South and North combined) above ten times in my entire life and the nearest I've been to an IRA bomb (unexploded, in that particular case) is fifty feet or 300 yards if you count the the exploding one and that was a controlled explosion so it doesn't really count so my only real knowledge of the topic is the history I've read and the stories I've heard from various people so obviously I'm a jackbooted Imperialist oppressor; and

(ii) [personal profile] clanwilliam has already had it pointed out to her that given her user-name she's clearly a sellout and that as she was born a week or so before Bloody Sunday (the slash one) she's far too young to understand the situation she's disqualified.
lilliburlero: (Default)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
I'm English too, and b.1978, so I might not have the requisite qualifications! I will download it to my e-reader though, and have a proper read.

I've had a flip through the notes and some of the text, and from what I can see it's a case of having read some historical sources, so actual events are mostly OK, but not grasped the textures and the mores of the society they're dealing with. Forgive a long quotation from the notes:

The other aspect has to do with conceptions of Ireland as maintaining its pre-Christian/Celtic roots even after the rise of the Catholic church there. There was a lingering thought, that goes well back to 11th or 12th centuries when the Church was formalising a lot of its doctrines, of the Irish as particularly wild, licentious, and sexually immoral, in every and all ways. Even Irish Catholicism maintained an element of that connotation well into the 19th/20th centuries, especially from a British/Church of England perspective. An Anglican might see all Catholics as somehow degenerate, but the Irish especially were suspicious, due to their very, very long history of being relative outliers to the Church. All the carrying-on the Irish and Anglo-Irish seemed to do, from drinking to emotion to more lax social rules (comparative to English upper-class eyes, at least) were also construed as evidence of unsettling sexuality.

[...]

The thing is, of course, that this is hierarchical. So, broadly, any English person of at least a middle-class background, which John is sort of on the edge of, would see themselves at least a bit more ‘civilised’ than any Irish, including the Anglo-Irish ascendancy. The Anglo-Irish, Sherlock’s mother’s class, would classify themselves largely like the English do, with the hierarchy of the peerage, but tend to insist upon their Irish identity. But that Irish identity would be seen as very different, and more civilized, than that of the IRISH Irish, lower/working classes and anyone who maintained ties to pre-Anglo history (speaking Irish, playing the revived Gaelic games, really any traditions). Mummy’s kind of an outlier, as a Catholic; but even she is likely the product of a convert a generation or so back, rather than from a Catholic family going back to St. Patrick, because Catholic families in the 19th century and earlier weren’t allowed to be part of the peerage.


(That? Oh, that was me running screaming round my living room flapping my hands at the wrists not even knowing where to fucking start.)

Most of what I've said above is irrelevant, by the way: because I was assuming from the summary that John was in the Auxiliaries.
lilliburlero: (ecumenical)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
Why yes:

“A shame. We go to opening nights at the Abbey regularly, of course. And then there are the galleries. So much, really, to do in the city these days, one need hardly go to London!”

John catches a soft, annoyed sigh from down the table – Mycroft, if he’d had to wager, but he doesn’t look to check – and stifles a smile.

“The Abbey’s good, if provincial,” Smyth chimes in. “Shaw, Synge, Yeats – they all cut their teeth there. The Irish do know how to weave a tale, I will give you that.”

“See?” Lady Holmes says, pleased. She ignores the dig. “We Irish aren’t all heathens.” John looks at her, startled. Across the table, Mycroft looks pained.

“Mummy, we’re hardly –” he starts, before Lady Holmes fixes him with a stare.“Constable Watson,” she says, still looking at her eldest son, “Norbury has been my family’s home for five generations. I was born within these very walls. Surely that entitles me to claim my birthright from Hibernia.” Her gaze, finally, slides over to John, who straightens his shoulders uncomfortably.

“I, um – I’m sure I don’t, um –”

“Mummy fancies herself a child of the aes sídhe,” Mycroft says impassively. “The fairy-folk. Myths and childish stories; no place outside of a nursery.”


So to recap. John's chauffeuring an officer who's been invited to lunch by the Holmes family, and because there are no servants except for the butler and a maid, there's no-one to give him a cuppa in the kitchen so Sherlock has hauled him into the dining room (this is registered as a shocking thing to do in class terms, but otherwise doesn't seem to have any effect on the conversation, which aykbob is absolutely my favourite sort of Getting It Wrong in Fanfic.) The rest of it I present without comment. Astonishingly, this writer has read The Last September.
Edited (misspelling) Date: 2015-05-30 03:42 pm (UTC)
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
Incidentally, I'm screaming with laughter at the notion of the Abbey being seen as "good, if provincial" - I may be coming at this from the perspective of having read about Mrs Horninam, predominantly in the Manchester context, though I gather she funded the Abbey until the egos got all too much, but my impression was that it was doing experimental stuff well ahead of what was going on in London's West End at the outset. So I'd have thought the person depicted would hate it, if anything.
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
The person who would be the real expert on this would be [personal profile] kalypso whose grandfather reviewed Ibsen for the Guardian back in the days when some Ibsen plays had to be done in theatre clubs because of the Lord Chamberlain, but I think so.
lilliburlero: (ecumenical)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
'Good, if provincial,' is completely wrong. Admittedly, the Abbey lurched pretty much from crisis to crisis after Annie Horniman withdrew, and that period is marked by an increasing conservatism in Yeats's taste by the standard of what was done in its first decade (it was still experimental theatre by any contemporary standard, though), and the flurry of artistic excitement around Sean O'Casey hasn't happened yet. So if that character registered it at all, it would probably be as a lot of degenerate arty-farty types fortunately being driven out of business by infighting and the economic pressures of the times. The notion of an Anglo-Irish peer's wife* feeling validated by the approving comment of an Auxie officer had me honking loud and long, too. Let me say it again: this writer has read Elizabeth Bowen, but apparently another of the same name.

*and let's not even go into the misunderstandings of how the peerage works, for therein lies despair and madness.
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
Well, the misunderstanding of how the peerage works is fairly fundamental, I'd have thought. I'm not quite sure if Sherlock is Lord Holmes or not in the early chapters, before his father dies, or if he only gets the courtesy title on becoming heir to the peerage, but even so for an Irish peer to have a seat in the Lords altogether means he's one of a minority even in a minority, so this sort of thing
Sherlock recognised, vaguely, a few names — Carson, Churchill, Asquith — though if he ever had known their positions, he has since scrubbed them from his mind, leaving behind not a single blot on the power of his memory
which is obviously intended to pick up on BBC Sherlock's "why should I care who the Prime Minister is?" falls away, since the most likely answer given the milieu into which she's put Sherlock is "Because you've got to meet him at the station, he's coming to stay."

BBC Sherlock ditches unnecessary knowledge; he's not just terminally ignorant for the sake of it.
Edited Date: 2015-05-31 08:44 am (UTC)
lilliburlero: (Default)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
Is a title ever actually given? (I noped out early but Norbury seems to be a reference to this infamous character as well as the ACD story?)

Anyway, It's an instance I think of ignorance leading to unnecessary complication (see also: Lady Violet's Catholicism) -- the scenario's still I'd argue not really workable, but it would have had a better chance of working had the Holmes family been gentry rather than nobility, and Watson an army officer rather than Black and Tans: that makes the casefic element trickier, maybe--goddammit, I'm not rewriting this story. The stuff about Sherlock not knowing who Asquith or Churchill is is just bloody inane.
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
I don't think a title is given; whenever necessary "Lord Holmes" is used for Sherlock.

I don't know why a senior member of the nobility is so down on their uppers that the butler is doing the entire work of the estate, either.
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
Found it. Chapter six: "“I’m Sherlock Holmes, Lord of Norbury.” Well, near enough."

Make of it what you will.
lilliburlero: aberdeen county council sign, reading "No Ball Games" (no ball games)
From: [personal profile] lilliburlero
Whereof we cannot speak we must remain silent.

clanwilliam: (Default)
From: [personal profile] clanwilliam
To which I can only reply "tell that to the Duke of Norfolk"!
legionseagle: Lai Choi San (Default)
From: [personal profile] legionseagle
Do you think there's a Big Book of Bloody Inaccurate History all these people get a secret key to?

Why bother having Violet be Catholic at all if it's not going to affect the plot one way or another?
ankaret: (Atomic Grapes)
From: [personal profile] ankaret
My father was named after the Marquess of Bath and has spent his life being aggressively respectable in order to escape it.
perennialanna: Plum Blossom (Default)
From: [personal profile] perennialanna
You have now started me off singing "Lloyd George knew my father, father knew Lloyd George", which in my case is strictly accurate, though not the famous Lloyd George but his grandson the 3rd Earl.
perennialanna: Plum Blossom (Default)
From: [personal profile] perennialanna
I have been muttering "tell that to the Duke of Norfolk" for several days now and it still makes me snort.

The very same Duke of Norfolk who heads the several pages long list of Catholic Nobility in my 1871 Catholic Directory. The list is immediately next to extracts from recent legislation concerning Roman Catholic inmates in workhouses, for priests to make use of when pursuing their pastoral duties. This, I suspect, has rather more relevance to the question of what my great-great-great-grandmother was doing in a convent, which is why I bought the book.

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