But at a fundamental level, he is respectful of forms. (The ability to challenge the status quo and still respect the queen is...very British.)
So when the King of Bohemia visits, he demonstrates courtesy and even executes a little bow.
He perceives her entirely as a machine (as his joke on Marcus later demonstrates) yet he treats her as human and deserving of gentle respect.
What a guy!
This time of year is a great time to discuss the belief system of Elementary's Holmes.
I love Elementary in part because Miller's Sherlock, however misanthropic, tries hard to be a good guy.
Although Elementary often falls back on the classic motive for murder--greed--it has an interesting bonus theme:
Being in a relationship is work! And it may entail hurting others. And it's work! And not many villains like work.
The pilot episode of Elementary presents a husband who seems as irritated by his wife's existence as desirous of her money--referring to himself in the third person, he states that the "husband wants out of the marriage." A later episode "Deja Vu All Over Again" revolves around the same desire for freedom, only in this case, the husband punishes the wife for the impulse. And the episode "Ears to You" has an ex-wife who couldn't be bothered to go through the hard work of a divorce.
The motivations are mostly all show-not-tell. But the scripts consistently avoid displays of villainous greed--or even need. Rather, the murderous significant others are unwilling to give up any of their prerogatives for the sake of the significant other, from money (sure) to lifestyles to attention.
Another Season 1 episode "While You Were Sleeping" sets the stage. Sherlock solves the case when he hears a recovering addict admit that when she was on drugs, she only cared about herself, not her doctor boyfriend or what her choices would do to him. He later refers to the murderess--a twin sister killing off heirs to the family money--as having a "little heart."
Sherlock understands the villains' reluctance to work at relationships. He finds them difficult too.
He nevertheless condemns their illegal and harmful solutions. When the supposed activist against the government kills the young woman who helps him, Sherlock is unimpressed by the "security" implications. Like Poirot, he cares most for the individuals "who deserve not to have taken from them their lives." And despite his own reluctance to invest in a relationship when he is not sure he has the requisite qualities--especially regarding fathering a child--he expects civilized members of a society to at least try, or, at the very least, not murder.
The theme that relationships take effort underscores the show. Sherlock attempts to build his friendship with Joan. He advises Marcus to take chances in his personal relationships. He encourages Captain Gregson to work at his failing marriage and then helps him in his later relationship with Paige. In the episode "You Do It Yourself," he gives the ultimate British compliment to the young research assistant who agrees to marry the woman he loves, becoming an instant father:
"Good show."
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A great example of chivalry occurs in one of my favorite Murdoch Mysteries, "Dead End Street." An autistic woman has created a cityscape, specifically of her street, including clues to a murder.
The autistic woman is cared for by her brother, Bert. And I love Bert's chivalry. What I like is not that Bert is "look at me as I swoon over my sacrifices." Other people on the street imply that Bert's wife left him because he cares for his sister. But Bert never makes that argument. Nor does he act put upon or burdened. He makes no excuses. He deals with issues as they arise. His sister's condition is a reality, no more, no less.
He doesn't come across--as some Murdoch characters do--as enlightened. He comes across, rather, as entirely matter-of-fact.
And the episode makes great points, including a point about "political correctness." When the inspector uses the term "imbecile," Crabtree replies, "I believe such people as Lydia are no longer referred to as imbecile. It's felt to be demeaning. The correct term nowadays is moron."
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| Bert amused by Lydia contradicting Murdoch. |
I like history that does what the episode does here: presents a modern issue within the context of its time. People only know what they know. And they do the best they can.
In the context of his time and now, Bert is a great guy.
In A&E Nero Wolfe's "The Silent Speaker," Mrs. Boone, played by the talented Debra Monk, confesses to Wolfe that she kept information to herself at the request of her husband's secretary, Phoebe Gunther. She feels guilty for keeping her promise to Phoebe: if she had given the police the information, Phoebe would not have been killed.
Nero Wolfe agrees--Phoebe wouldn't have been killed--but adds that since Phoebe elicited the promise, the consequences of that action belong to her, not to Mrs. Boone.
He isn't blaming Phoebe, whom he admires for her intelligence and steadiness of purpose. He is according Phoebe and Mrs. Boone the same chivalrous intent one would accord men who honor their promises. In a world of many principles, the obligation to protect can overlap with the obligation to keep faith. Mrs. Boone chose to keep faith. She behaved chivalrously, and Nero Wolfe chivalrously defends her decision. Choice matters.
Great moment!
I like them because they are, to an extent, fully magnanimous while also being ruthlessly ethical. Wolfe doesn't behave out of a claim to empathy yet he demonstrates complete empathy. And he doesn't shirk from the consequences of his actions.
In one case, Nero Wolfe has figured out the identity of a murderer, but the only way to prove the identity is through a trap. Archie, who felt sorry for the victim, is willing to be the bait.
Yet Wolfe types the "I know you done it" letter to the villain himself.
Why?
Because it is Wolfe's plan based on Wolfe's deduction. He could tell Archie and leave Archie to carry out matters himself. But that would be inherently immoral. Wolfe would be pretending that his knowledge doesn't put Archie in peril.
He takes direct action in order to be directly responsible. If Archie is hurt, Wolfe will not be able to say, "Oh, I didn't know it would go that far." He looks over the entire matter and accepts his part in it.
Excellent chivalrous moment!
The intriguing factor here is that Asano is not the true villain, in the sense that he is the worst person Class E has encountered. In fact, Koro-sensei respects him. When one of the worst villains, the abusive drill sergeant, shows up, Koro-sensei resists the man and Asano ejects him. They both despise the cruel sadist for his hypocrisy, specifically his egotistical belief that he is Mr. Nice Guy who OUGHT to be loved, not because he earned it (through hard work or hard demands) but because he feels entitled: he wants to bully people without giving anything back.
Asano may not have the most sensitive of human feelings. But he believes in paying one's dues. He is entirely willing to live by the same principles and expectations he foists on his students.
Koro-Sensi doesn't adopt Asano's teaching philosophy and methods, and Asano's own son, Gakushū, challenges them. Father and son are the same personality coming at a problem from two different perspectives. When Gakushū actually gets his urbane, above-it-all dad to actually react, the boy is pleased.
And he begins to meet his father on far more level ground. In Volume 15, the two drive off into the proverbial sunset, threatening lawsuits against each other: "Let's go file complaints together sometimes this week!"
The fight will be fair--okay, they will both use underhanded techniques, but they know it, so the fight will be fair.
Other posts about chivalry:
In Blue Bloods, Danny shoots a man waving a gun around and acting drugged out (turns out, he was hit on the head). At the end of the episode, Danny visits the man in the hospital, and the two clasp hands.
In a later season, two officers in Jamie's squad end up in a friendly fire shooting incident during a drug bust in a park. One officer kills the other.
At the end of the episode, the husband of the dead officer, Officer Brenda Price, hugs the officer who killed her.
My favorite scene of great magnanimity, however, occurs in CSI when Brass is hugged by the wife of the fallen officer. I love it because I was truly surprised. I guess I wasn't familiar yet with police procedurals. Brass goes to the wake. Other officers whisper. They pull aside the wife. And--
She walks up and hugs Brass.
Here's another example from Coach!
Dauber is explaining to "walk-ons"--students who want to try out for football despite not being recruited--how to apply. They have to fill out ALL the paperwork.
He finishes his instructions and asks if there are any questions. An attendee raises his hand.
"Do we have to fill out all the paperwork?" he asks in complete innocence.
Any teacher who has just finished explaining an assignment in detail knows the frustration such a question arouses. Where have you been? I just SAID...
Dauber doesn't roll his eyes. He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't get upset.
"Good question," he says sincerely. "You must fill out ALL the paperwork..."
Dauber is kind--however, his behavior here is the deep chivalry of
taking the event as it is. It is kindness that adheres to a consistent
standard. Less about emotive compassion. More about "here's what I need
to do right now."
I once stood in line at the Help desk at Staples and listened to a Tech customer service guy explain to a customer for nearly 5 minutes that yes, it is strange that the software would cost more than the hardware but that is the way things are and here are your options.
For nearly 5 minutes, he said the same thing over and over and over again to the same belligerent series of question. The customer never stopped, pondered, and made a decision. He just kept complaining. Yet the Tech service guy never raised his voice. He never rolled his eyes. He never got upset.
My hero!
The same episode as Dauber's chivalrous kindliness includes Leonard Kraleman, the guy with the "body of a real plucky kid" who tries out for the team and gets hammered--"but he kept getting up!"
