So a few mornings back I was bouncing up and down during the bus ride to school and listening to tolerable music through my headphones rather than the jangling cacophony of jolting steel muscles of the bus. It was a beautiful morning- soft golden sun and a decided (and aggravating) nip in the air. it was just my luck that during such an already-blissful mood, Sherlock’s The Woman soundtrack had to turn up in my ears.
And I was hit by feels all over again. Eargasm, let me tell you. THIS SHOW.
One of the main things about the show that makes me weak about the knees has to be its attention to detail. So you can just imagine my feelings when it suddenly hit me in the gut with the force of a lorry that the soundtrack of The Woman can be interpreted to depict Sherlock and Irene’s entire relationship.
I don’t really know why I didn’t get this before. Perhaps it was my Literature in English *drilling* training in reading between the lines, or in this case, the music, finally coming into effect? Perhaps it was the short film of Benedict’s that I recently watched- Hawking (which is brilliant by the way- y’all should watch it), in which the character of Roger Penrose taught me to keep on feeling the music even after it stops? Or perhaps it was the fact that I never really understood music before. I knew the tune and the rhythm and the lyrics, but the fact that the tinkling notes are as good as words- I never really grasped that concept before, not even with Tagore’s songs. It’s only very recently that I began to absorb music like literature- as a form of art rather than entertainment, as a form of wordless expression which pierces the soul.
So there I sat, struggling with my feels, and tears- I kid you not- springing to my eyes. Oh, so it’s not just a signature tune. That it what it is breathing into my ear.
And then I, of course, immediately decided to make a blog post out of it. You should know that I put up most of my existential dilemmas and epiphanies on this blog. You should also know that i’m no technical master- I am merely a fangirl fangirling. this is what the music whispered to me.
The music starts on this beautiful elusive note- notes slightly distant in the background, a vibrant rhythm with deep notes and the haunting, soft violin air. This is Irene, her hunter’s smile on her face, her femininity pulsating in the music, her elegance in the violin, reaching out, elusive… Somebody changed his mind… The question is, who?
Suddenly the violin rears into the foreground, dominant, equally haunting, but doubled in intensity and amplified… enter Sherlock. Here enters his conflict about Irene- the emotions she awoke in him- his rival and his equal in a powerful form that is completely unfamiliar to his unemotional personality, his struggle to repress them, his admiration for her. In the violin there’s despondency and hurt and confusion and beauty, a magnetic appeal that is impossible to ignore. A powerplay with the cleverest man in Great Britain? Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it?
But suddenly the deeper cello rears again, the rhythm becomes more urgent, more demanding- and then comes Sherlock’s tune. He’s writing sad music. Doesn’t eat. Barely talks. Only to correct the television. I’d say he was heartbroken, but, ah, he’s Sherlock.
And you think that’s it.
But because it’s Moffat and David Arnold and Michael Price, of course it’s not. Of course.
“When I say run,” eyes of ice-blue fire, “run!”
The beauty and sheer intensity of this part- of the violin and the cello and the piano and Sherlock’s tune and Irene’s air- mirroring the emotions crashing in me- it’s like you can feel their joy, their love, shivering in the air!
It’s perfectly possible that at this moment I’m getting some sideways glances for possibly reading rather too much into a tune. It’s perfectly alright. i’m a fangirl, and to make matters worse/better depending on how you look at it, a Literature student. I interpret things. Sometimes I may over-interpret. But I have a sneaking suspicion this is not one of those times.
In saying goodbye I’m going to leave you with some other things I have possibly over-interpreted in A Scandal in Belgravia, which by the way is my favourite episode of Sherlock, if you haven’t figured that out already. This was something I noted the first time i watched it way back at the end of May 2012-
“I LOVE the way they’ve shot the scene where John tells Sherlock that Irene Adler is in witness protection. It’s shot from a point slightly below John’s head, making Sherlock look taller and the height difference between John and Sherlock much greater than it actually is. It’s a hint at the balance of power between the characters. It would seem that John has the greater power because he’s the one withholding knowledge from Sherlock. But the overwhelming sensation of the scene is how physically insignificant John suddenly seems, because of the point of view of the camera- making Sherlock seem more powerful and thus suggesting that ultimately he is the one holding the truth.”
Over-interpretation? I think yes. But what can I say? I. Am. after all, Sherlocked. 😉
(btw, click on that Roger Penrose link- my personal favourite moments are the unfinished Wagner tune and the pure joy on Stephen’s *Hawking, aka Benedict’s* face when he conceptualizes his thesis)