BBC's Sherlock and "The Phantom Limb"

I want to start by saying that I am a huge fan of BBC's Sherlock. And though slash isn't usually my topic of choice, I think it's totally justified between John/Sherlock. And even if slash isn't justified, if it's done well, why not.

Mpreg, however, is never justified. Perhaps this is because I've never seen it done well. So while I totally stand to be corrected on this front, I use this fic as a point-in-case. That being said, Mpreg is not my problem with this fic. Neither is the wild OOCness. Or the grammar mistakes.

This fic is so purple it's shitting eggplant. It's a miserable FAIL at sounding poetic. The author raped his/her thesaurus. THE WORDINESS. You want to shake your computer screen in the hopes that the thousands of needless words will fall off the screen, leaving crisp, sensible prose. Except that it won't. Because the wordiness is a clever ruse to disguise the fact that NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE.

*breathe*

Anyway, in events that I assume take place directly after season one, Sherlock is missing, creating gossip in New Scotland Yard:

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"Freak still not here today?" Sargent Sally Donovan was anything but affectionate at nine in the morning, or when the idea of her favorite consulting detective sat upon her tongue.

Did she (he?) really think that metaphor through? The IDEA of Sherlock sat on her tongue.

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Everything in eyeshot was bathed in grey, and extraordinarily unremarkable.

Uhh, you're missing a verb there, probably because extraordinarily idiotic.

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By the afternoon, the bitching was rife.

Yesssssss. Best line in the whole story. Which isn't saying much.

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A clash rang through Baker Street, that of pungent and foul, sweltering vomit, grim, creamy bile and the desperate dousing of air fresheners every few minutes.

A clash rang throughout the WHOLE of Baker Street.......of someone barfing. HUH. Is it a robot puking up combine gears?

Nope. It's a clash of "pungent and foul, sweltering vomit, grim, creamy bile." Let's try to rearrange that sentence for grammatical purposes:

Pungent, foul and sweltering vomit, AND grim, creamy bile, AND the desperate dousing of air fresheners every few minutes rang out in Baker Street as a clash.

No, that doesn't make it any clearer. Let's try to break it down semantically:

Pungent, foul, and hot vomit, AND gloomy, creamy bile, AND ....fuck this.

Okay let's remove unnecessary words.

_______________________________.

Much better.

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The lights in the mirror combined with his own ghastly reflection appeared to agitated raging bile duct quite profusely. From his grip on the edge of the bath he'd attained this white-knuckled despair. His tongue had been back-combed with a wire brush, he could have sworn, teeth that grated like a rusty trigger and face saturated with tears that had been torn from his eyes.

what the FUCKKK

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Sherlock's hands were electric with his sorry state as they smoothed over the slight of his abdomen, wincing.

Noooo. NOOOOOOO. Mpreg does not get any less problematic because it is subtle.

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There was no point in living if he couldn't be beautiful.

That's right, Sherlock Holmes--antisocial, sociopathic, doesn't give a shit about anything except his CASES--will kill himself because of his looks.

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In summary, Sherlock was far too emotional to consolidate a sensible decision from his thoughts

Oh in SUMMARY some long convoluted backwash of the English language he was far too emotional to consolidate a sensible decision from his thoughts. I would hate to see an elaboration of that point. Perhaps this is meant to tell us something about the state of the author.

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Straightening himself up, he became his own sense of truly damaging fear.

To the extent that I understand what the author is trying to say here, this fic is MY own sense of truly damaging fear.

Sherlock decides to spend some time at the morgue, where he runs into Molly:

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Does she know? Can she smell that I'm hiding it?

Not only is this author's first language not English, I think he has some sort of synesthetic mental disorder. YOU DON'T SMELL DECEPTION. ESPECIALLY NOT MEN HIDING THEIR OWN PREGNANCY.

In a slightly less canonically-based pairing, Detective Inspector Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes are also in a passionate relationship. Lestrade loves his sleep, but Mycroft' nightmares wake him up at night:

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Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade was a fan of sleep. A big fan. He embraced it as often as possible, despised going without it, and tried never to abstain from it. If there was a T-shirt that could represent his love for sleep, he would have worn it constantly. Sleep was very much like sex for Gregory Lestrade. It seemed so necessary, and very few reasons could stop either of the two happening.

EXCELLENT attempt at show-don't-tell.

Mycroft's nightmares happened once a night:

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usually post-sexual implications.

Is this a meta-reference to the author's WRITING of sex scenes? Or did the author mean sexual interactions and copied the wrong word out of his thesaurus? Yeah, we're going with that.

This night he is especially disturbed, by a text from

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a certain Sociopolitical Holmes brother

If you're going to use a thesaurus, LOOK UP WHAT THE NEW WORD MEANS. SOCIOPATHIC ≠ SOCIOPOLITICAL.

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He woke up swimming in the sheets, cold sweats climbing over his torso and the awful feeling of blood at the back of his throat.

OVERDO IT SOME MORE!!!! TELL ME ABOUT THE SHARKS SWIMMING IN THE OCEANIC SHEETS WITH HIM!!!! MORE PERSONIFICATION OF COLD SWEATS!!! HAVE THEM BANGING DRUMS ON HIS STOMACH!!!!!!

We go from Mycroft's musings about John, to John's musings. I think. I can't keep track:

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John's infinite wisdom on the matter of his man [his love, too], he was able to gather the situation and strain the vital juices from I. The symptoms became more and more obvious, despite one certain consulting detective being convinced he was the height of surreptitious.

Look, am I just shooting fish in a barrel here?

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A paradise by the light of his charging mobile. Private refuge, where he could watch the elegance and resplendence and majesty of his lover unwind in the palm of his hand. If Sherlock was awake he'd have gotten a tongue-lashing, for certain.

So, he's giving him a hand-job? Rubbing his pregnant abdomen? WHAT IS GOING ON???

John confronts Sherlock about his suspicions (both that Sherlock is actually pregnant, and that Sherlock is secretly trying to abort the baby):

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snapping his trance like a cheap rubber band.

Know what else is cheap? Talk. Your talk, specifically.

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"Sherlock." John's words rung like metal striking asphalt.

That is some HIGH-PITCHED whine. Plus would metal "ring" striking asphalt? Wouldn't it...grate?

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everything slowed to underwater motion....Until Sherlock's eyes hurt from staring hard at John in their saltwater room.

Look, you're not a bloody metaphysical poet. These extended metaphors are just not going to work. If John Donne rose from the dead he would bitchslap you. To hell. To SALTWATER hell.

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Raised a hand and slapped Sherlock where he stood.

Well at least someone got bitchslapped. But what is the subject of this sentence? It's God isn't it?!?!? God, you missed.

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The action appeared to murder the man's high horse, and for a few seconds, there was silence.

Silence. Let us all bow our heads in memory of decent writing.

So what's the next logical step? They passionately embrace, obviously:

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Lips that felt like a Monday morning but tasted of the sins of a Friday night confessional, followed up by want, and lust and rage, the kind that had seen too much, had won one too many fights.

:

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Nails raked down John's arms, left the screeching of blood and scars in their wake, while the passion continued.

They left the screams of blood and scars.

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he uncoiled from a cold, sociopolitical detective to a twenty-pence hooker, just a mantra of gasps and pleads.

NEVER call my Sherlock a twenty-pence hooker!!!!!! Also, where is this hooker, the third world? YOU CAN'T BUY SHIT FOR TWENTY PENCE.

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Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth.

Twenty pence to whoever makes sense of this.

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Sex is not a dirty word. You will not be cursed for saying it, people do not think it indecent to murmur, or hint at. Sex is not a vulgar thing, not a crime or sin or an outlawed disposition. The act, in itself, is rather glorified, highly enjoyable, delicious. Brings a physical closeness to separate entities. Allows them to merge. Sex is not a dirty thing.

Well, yeah. Though, I've never thought of sex as being as sterile as "bringing a physical closeness to separate entities." But maybe that's because I've actually had sex, and you haven't. Snap.

I do actually feel bad for the author at this point. Maybe earlier in the writing he got reviews from fundies.

So sex is.....all of that stuff:

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...Unless there are feelings involved.

Cheap sex is delicious, but if you have feelings, OH THAT'S JUST SICK.

Then we get a long digression into Sherlock's past mpregs, and I have to stop now before pungent and foul, sweltering vomit, grim, creamy bile.

But props to anyone who takes up the story from here.

The author didn't just rape the thesaurus, they dismembered it with a hacksaw and tried to hide the different parts in various sewer drains around London. Unfortunately, you can't cover up the stench of purple prose even if it's dead.

Also, PAST MPREGs?! This has happened more than once?

I'd try continuing it, but I'm only familiar with the books. Maybe some brave soul who's seen the show can take up the gauntlet?

Drat. I was hoping this was a cracktastic Holmes/Venture Bros. crossover.

Maybe poor Sherlock is addicted to abortions? Anyone ever thought about that? The man needs therapy! And meds.

The author probably hasn't even reread this fic and when s/he does, I hope cringing will ensue. Really, don't these kids realize that when you have to make guesses as to what exactly you're reading it means they should calm down on the thesaurus abuse.

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A paradise by the light of his charging mobile. Private refuge, where he could watch the elegance and resplendence and majesty of his lover unwind in the palm of his hand. If Sherlock was awake he'd have gotten a tongue-lashing, for certain.

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Lips that felt like a Monday morning but tasted of the sins of a Friday night confessional, followed up by want, and lust and rage, the kind that had seen too much, had won one too many fights.

I'm still wondering if these are supposed to be sex scenes. The horrible metaphors make it even more of a mess. IMAGERY DOES NOT GO THERE.

And then this...

textrix wrote:

This night he is especially disturbed, by a text from

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a certain Sociopolitical Holmes brother

If you're going to use a thesaurus, LOOK UP WHAT THE NEW WORD MEANS. SOCIOPATHIC ≠ SOCIOPOLITICAL.

Got a laugh when I realized what s/he was trying to say.

Ozymandias wrote:

The author probably hasn't even reread this fic and when s/he does, I hope cringing will ensue. Really, don't these kids realize that when you have to make guesses as to what exactly you're reading it means they should calm down on the thesaurus abuse.

I know, right?

In the author's defense, I skimmed (SKIMMED) through the next few chapters, and they didn't seem quite as ridiculous or wordy. So I almost felt bad. Almost.

But then I read their profile:

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I am:
A maximalist.
A pessimist.
A writer.

So it's clear that they have an inflated and undeserved sense of artistic angst. And now I'm thinking that the latest chapters are less wordy due to sheer laziness. Because how exhausting would it be to write like that?

Rabid Badger wrote:

The author didn't just rape the thesaurus, they dismembered it with a hacksaw and tried to hide the different parts in various sewer drains around London.

See, now this is the RIGHT way to use an extended metaphor. I HOPE YOU'RE PAYING ATTENTION FANBRATS.

textrix wrote:

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Everything in eyeshot was bathed in grey, and extraordinarily unremarkable.

Extraordinarily unremarkable. Best oxymoron ever.

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Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth.

One word.
Blowjob.

JizzMasterZero wrote:

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Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth.

One word.
Blowjob.

You win. I've re-read that half-a-dozen times trying to figure out what the author was getting at.

Does this writer not know of the existence of Victorian-era porn? Which was available if you knew the right people and places to go, and which I wouldn't doubt that both Watson and Holmes might have read at some point. The wording of it can be a bit hard to fathom sometimes, unless you're familiar with the slang of the era, but at least you could generally tell who was doing what to whom.

JizzMasterZero wrote:

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Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth.

One word.
Blowjob.

Somehow, I thought the same thing.

Worst. Blowjob. Scene. Ever.

JizzMasterZero wrote:

One word.
Blowjob.

In context, it's actually even more confusing:

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"John-" The way he said John's name was filthy. Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth. Those lips were utterly sinful, the way they enveloped parts of John, or when the pink of a tongue escaped from it, these blue eyes never leaving John's face. Inexcusably delicious.

So it seems like it's the word "John" that's coming from deep within Sherlock, but then there IS a reference to a blow job. So, WTF. Incidentally, let me know if I should up this to NWS.

Also, "inexcusably delicious" makes me die:

*Attempt at gritty sexual reference* + *smacks lips* "YUM YUM!!"

This seems to be coming from a person who has no idea of how the mechanics of such a situation work. Well I usually think that most good stories can do without blowjob scenes. It usually does nothing to move the plot along, or to develop a character.

There are so many words missing throughout the various sentences that you've shown, probably because the author was trying to fit so very many words in. Because of that, it makes me think of the webpages/e-mails that are pure spam but have all these words in them to try and make you think there's something actually there.

The Scientist wrote:

This seems to be coming from a person who has no idea of how the mechanics of such a situation work. Well I usually think that most good stories can do without blowjob scenes. It usually does nothing to move the plot along, or to develop a character.

Well it can work if you're writing a PWP or just straight-out porn. And it can be used in an actual serious story to reveal more about two characters and how they interact. But it helps if you actually know how to write sex scenes in the first place.

The problem here is that the author can't seem to decide if she's writing a serious story or a PWP.

As I said, I've only read the books, but the way Holmes is acting is frankly somewhat contrary to how he was described in Conan Doyle's books. Yes, he did have what were likely depressive episodes and could get a bit manic at times, but I don't recall him ever turning into the helpless weepy creature he's portrayed as here.

So I went picture hunting:

Holmes as pictured in a portrait done for a 1904 release of one of Conan Doyle's Books:
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Holmes as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch in the BBC series 'Sherlock':

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You tell me which one has 'helpless woobie' written all over it.

(oddly, I can't seem to find any picture of the actor who plays Watson on the series, but I'm willing to bet he's not nearly as young and pretty feckless looking as Holmes.

Rabid Badger wrote:

You tell me which one has 'helpless woobie' written all over it. (oddly, I can't seem to find any picture of the actor who plays Watson on the series, but I'm willing to bet he's not nearly as young and pretty feckless looking as Holmes.

Cumberbatch is COMPLETELY transformed in the role, though. This is how Sherlock actually looks in the series. And Watson actually is the cute one. Cumberbatch is a BRILLIANT Holmes. Sacrilegiously, I like him better than Jeremy Brett (). I highly recommend this series. It is a reinterpretation of stories, so part of the fun is seeing how they recreate the plots and the little details--and there are often private jokes or allusions only available to those who have read the books. Here's a clip of one of my favourite Sherlock moments (that I find incredibly fitting for this Forum). It's been dubbed "Grammar Nazi."

Okay, and [/obsessive rant] Sorry Rabid Badger!! You can tell me to shut up anytime!

Anyway, back to my point. Being, uh, oh yeah--the fanbrat MURDERS him. He doesn't act at ALL like this. He doesn't even look attractive in the series (well...maybe to some of us).

No need to shut up. As I said, I've never seen the characters, outside of their promo pictures. Actually, I find both of them quite attractive. And really, even if you go on what the books portrayed, I can see slashing the two of them-Watson certainly spent more time with Holmes than he did with any of his wives, and Holmes hated women to the point mysogyny (he only admired Irene Adler because she was clever enough to outsmart him).

That said, I'm an older woman who, if I slashed them, would watch the series. try and get their characters down, and then make sure they were portrayed in my stories as they're portrayed on screen (I seriously doubt Holmes is a weepy uke onscreen). The problem is that the series is also watched by several million squeeing fangirls, most of them not yet out of their teens, who learned everything they know about same-sex relationships from reading bad yaoi fanfics. Most of them don't bother to look at the characters, study their interaction, and build a story from there. They're more likely to do what our erstwhile author has done-shout 'Ooo, pretty!,' grab a theasaurus, and started typing without any real thought as to where they're going.

And that's how you end up with messes like this story.

Rabid Badger wrote:

And that's how you end up with messes like this story.

Oh agreed. I think you would enjoy this series, the writers have written in a homoerotic streak that it's impossible to deny. Although they've later admitted that they want this relationship to be completely platonic--playing with the Aristotelian idea of friendship as the highest form of relationship--the homoerotic thread has sort of run away with itself, and will always be subtext.

One example of many: Episode One. They have said in the commentary that they consider Holmes to be mostly asexual--which I agree with. The writers wanted to address the issue of two single men living together--and a homosexual relationship is something that readers over generations have wondered about. The writers are mostly having fun, making Sherlock impossible to "pin down"--but it's still there. And this has made the fangirls run wild--the youtube videos are worse than the fanfiction, because they have cheesy pop songs embedded. I find it funny, too, because I find him sexier as an asexual being. I guess we all have our thing, eh (well I guess I just outed myself as Canadian).

And as I've said, slash works perfectly well in this canon (it's more justified than him being straight (so far), and probably only slightly less justified that him being asexual). It's the weepy emo LOSER part that angers me. Gahhh. Why do people write in a fandom, and then eliminate everything that makes the story belong in the fandom?

^^ Without actually being able to think of anything as well-put as this, I totally second everything you've said here. (Also, Canadian high-five.)

And Rabid Badger, perhaps it might add extra incentive to know that it was created/written by Steven Moffat? :D One thing I really like about the show are the little gay jokes that manage to seem more like a props to gay people, rather than a joke at our expense--which Moffat has always been really great about.

your mom wrote:

^^ Without actually being able to think of anything as well-put as this, I totally second everything you've said here. (Also, Canadian high-five.)

And Rabid Badger, perhaps it might add extra incentive to know that it was created/written by Steven Moffat? :D One thing I really like about the show are the little gay jokes that manage to seem more like a props to gay people, rather than a joke at our expense--which Moffat has always been really great about.

Definitely going to have to look up the series. Moffat's written so many good Dr. Who episodes. I've always loved The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, which introduced us to not only Captain Jack, but also gave us Nine having to explain to Rose-who I'd have expected to be more street wise, given her upbringing-that Jack was bisexual. The fact he originated the Weeping Angels in 'Blink' and wrote 'Time Crash' (Ooh, look at me, I'm the Doctor, I don't need a sonic screwdriver, I can save the world with a tea kettle and some string!') only makes me love him more.

At the risk of completely derailing the thread, I also highly recommend Moffat's "Jekyll", which is a modern sort of Jekyll/Hyde thing, as you'd expect from the title. Quite dark, gritty, mysterious, and very awesome.

And completely agree with all the awesomes you mentioned in that post! Plus I really like River--I know there are a lot of people who hate her and think she's a Mary Sue, but I say she's no more Mary Sue than the Doctor himself. And sure, she's a bit of a know-it-all and a bit cocky, but so is he. I personally love her, and I like that she seems to know more than he does, which is a change from all the other women on the show who follow him around shouting, "Doctor! What do we do?!" (Which sure, is fine: the show is called Doctor Who. But I just like to see ONE woman who's almost equal to him, you know? That seems to be why everyone hates River.)

Anyway, wow: huge thread derail there, and completely my fault. This fic is totally horrible, and the author seriously needs her thesaurus privileges suspended until she can learn how to use one responsibly. She also needs to go back to health class and learn that men can't get pregnant.

your mom wrote:

One thing I really like about the show are the little gay jokes that manage to seem more like a props to gay people, rather than a joke

EXACTLY. I'm not even gay, but I can't tell you how offensive I find most pop-culture references. They usually only address male homosexuality, and they paint homosexuality in this naive, flaming, ostentatious way--and it's always for a laugh. It's exactly like the "Jim Crow" entertainment that made fun of African Americans before the 60s (and even after). Some of my friends argue that "at least they're raising awareness" but I don't agree with this. It really frustrates me. (And Canadian high-five back )

And I'm getting on Jekyll ASAP. I've never gotten into Doctor Who, despite many friends encouraging me, but it's mostly because it's so daunting rather than lack of interest. After this school term I might give it a try.

And yeah, derailing my own thread.

textrix wrote:

your mom wrote:

One thing I really like about the show are the little gay jokes that manage to seem more like a props to gay people, rather than a joke

EXACTLY. I'm not even gay, but I can't tell you how offensive I find most pop-culture references. They usually only address male homosexuality, and they paint homosexuality in this naive, flaming, ostentatious way--and it's always for a laugh. It's exactly like the "Jim Crow" entertainment that made fun of African Americans before the 60s (and even after). Some of my friends argue that "at least they're raising awareness" but I don't agree with this. It really frustrates me. (And Canadian high-five back )

And I'm getting on Jekyll ASAP. I've never gotten into Doctor Who, despite many friends encouraging me, but it's mostly because it's so daunting rather than lack of interest. After this school term I might give it a try.

And yeah, derailing my own thread.

Ugh, I'm so glad it bugs you, too! Sometimes I feel like I must be one of those overly-sensitive people who get uppity over everything, which I really don't think I am. It's like they think there's ONE way and one way only to be a gay man (they do the same thing when they happen to do a joke about lesbians: it's always butch, lumberjack, mullet-type lesbians. Which, sure, there are people like that; I'm not saying it's bad. I'm just saying it's not all of us. I know absolutely nothing about cars, I hate beer, I never want to own a pickup truck, and I have quite the soft spot for jewellery [just the cheap stuff, not expensive stuff].)

Bleck, anyway, I went on a huge rant, ha ha.

Aww, why is Doctor Who daunting? If it helps, you definitely don't need to watch all the old stuff (before the reboot in 2005) in order to get it. And to be honest, I started watching random episodes out of order and I picked it up pretty quickly (if you don't care about spoilers, lol).

Jekyll is only 6 episodes, so you should be fine with that.

Derailed thread is completely off the tracks now. My bad.

Well, I did say (or at least imply) that graphic sex scenes can be included if they do something in terms of plot/ character development. If they're just there because, then it's best to leave them out. I'm not a fan of PWP. Also, I doubt that this story is meant to be porn.

However, as has been pointed out, the biggest problem is the OOCness of the protagonist.

your mom wrote:

Aww, why is Doctor Who daunting?

Mostly because of how many episodes/versions there are. It actually helps that I don't need to watch the old stuff, though. I have an addictive personality--when I like something, I do it to the max. Meaning, the next week would be me in bed watching every episode. But I will get on it this summer. Especially after seeing how good the writing is for Sherlock.

The Scientist wrote:

Also, I doubt that this story is meant to be porn.

I don't think it's meant to be porn either. It's like twelve chapters now, mostly emo drivel. And for the actual sex scene, he cuts to them closing the bedroom door, and then resumes narration in the morning. I haven't read the other chapters, though.

I think the "blow-job" scene is just another element of fail. Along with the OOCness and the writing. It's "bi-winning" like that. Because we still can't be sure if it's just a bj reference, or if it's actually happening in the narrative present. The grammar is so convoluted:

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"John-" The way he said John's name was filthy. Baritone, gentle and it came from deep in Sherlock, with a seedy quality to the way it was distorted by a stolen mouth. Those lips were utterly sinful, the way they enveloped parts of John, or when the pink of a tongue escaped from it, these blue eyes never leaving John's face. Inexcusably delicious. "Not here-" No words should ever sound like that. Guttural, strained against the obvious want that the pair shared, and expressed quite freely. Not a word was said as the pair, still rather engrossed with eachother to notice much else fought passionately against eachother until reaching the bedroom. It was unclear to whom it belonged, most likely Sherlock, before entering.

I seriously do not know what is going on in the bold parts. Also, how the fuck do you not know whose room you're entering.