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A Slight Trick of the Mind

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Mitch Cullin's A Slight Trick of the Mind has a lot in common with Michael Chabon's The Final Solution. Both have at their center an elderly, somewhat frail Sherlock Holmes. Both present Holmes in isolation, outside of the familiar haunts and relationships we recall so fondly from Doyle's work. Both have him living into a time period that calls into question his reliance on logic and intellect. Most importantly, each, in its own way, offers up one of the best literary pleasures a reader is likely to experience this year.
Cullin places Holmes in his 93rd year, retired to Sussex with his bees and his housekeeper and her adolescent son. While Holmes has grown somewhat frail physically (he needs two canes, lots of rest), more distressing to him is the obvious loss of his mental faculties. He finds himself entering rooms for unknown reasons, forgetting near-events and losing himself in long-past ones, falling asleep suddenly in the midst of something. Even more confusing, he finds that his renowned logic and aloofness seems to be more and more capitulating to the long-buried emotional part of himself, particularly in three-fold fashion: in his reaction to the father-worship of the housekeeper's adolescent son, in his memory of a decades-old infatuation with a woman from one of his old cases, and in his response to a Japanese man who seeks answers to why his father long ago abandoned his family at the seeming urging of a younger Holmes.
The story unfolds in slow fashion, slipping quietly, sadly, smoothly between the three storylines. With Holmes, we sorrow in present time over his slipping acuity, mourn the passing of that legendary intellect, wince at how easily he forgets, loses himself in time and place and deed. We mourn as well the passing of an age where reason and logic could hold such sway as it did in Holmes' hands (a topic more directly focused on in Chabon's book). Faced as he is during his trip to Japan with the devastation wrought by the first atomic bomb--a devastation not only of life and place but also of spirit, Holmes begins to question the place of logic and reason in such a world.
Where then can he find solace, if at all? One answer of course is his bees, in their ordered humming generational lives. But he is less and less involved in their actual keeping, and so we see the seemingly cold Holmes slowly opening up to the possibilities of human connection in his interaction with young Rodger, the housekeeper's son whom he trains to care for the bees as he no longer can. And through Rodger we learn of an earlier case of Holmes where for a while the machine-like intellect was overrun by a strange infatuation with a woman, one that continues even now. And we see him thinking not rationally but emotionally as he ponders what to do about the Japanese man who seeks answers Holmes does not have. Cullin has taken Holmes and made him human, with all its potential for rapture and ruin.
Through these perilous waters of fading memory and slipping mind, of human emotion and weakness, of past and approaching mortality, Holmes and the reader move slowly, quietly, painfully toward an ending that nearly drowns the heart. Highly, highly recommended

In this fascinating portrait, Sherlock Holmes, now ninety-three, deals with the indignities of old age and the forgetfulness which accompanies it. It is now 1947, and Dr. Watson has been dead for many years. Holmes lives in a small country house in rural Sussex with a housekeeper and her 14-year-old son, spending much of his day tending to his bees and working on his writing. Frail and reliant upon two canes to get around, Holmes is dedicated to the pursuit of longevity and believes that the royal jelly from his hives is a key ingredient.

Holmes has just returned from postwar Japan, where he has been seeking information about the prickly ash plant and its life-giving properties. His host there, the son of a diplomat who disappeared when World War II broke out, tells Holmes that his father once met him in England, but Holmes no longer remembers the man. As he reminisces about the trip, he wants to help the man come to terms with his father's mysterious abandonment.

These two settings, one in rural Sussex and one in Japan, in 1947, alternate with "The Case of the Glass Armonicist," an uncompleted story about one of Holmes's cases from 1902, which Holmes hopes to finish before he forgets the details. The story concerns a young man whose wife keeps disappearing following her lessons on the glass armonica (sometimes called the "glass harmonica"). Holmes follows the woman, often donning a disguise to get closer to her. In formal Victorian language, Holmes tells a story reminiscent of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in style.

Cullin has created a plausible psychological profile for Holmes, who, to the best of anyone's knowledge, has never been in love and has never allowed his emotions to govern his life. Now, at the end of his life, he has the same needs and fears as the rest of mankind, a man far more human than we have ever seen before, though he retains his dignity. Vibrant physical details about the natural world and the places in which the action takes place bring life to the narrative, which is unusually sensitive in its descriptions of the inner world of an elderly man whose memories consist of "brief remembrances that soon became vague impressions and were invariably forgotten."

Gracefully combining all the story lines, Cullin leads the reader to a conclusion which is especially memorable for its completeness. Here Holmes concludes his searches, lays his philosophical ponderings to rest, and tries to find whatever peace is possible for a solitary man. A captivating continuation of the Sherlock Holmes legend. Mary Whipple

Sherlock Holmes remains alone of all the Victorian literary heroes from the last century. Even when "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" (graphic novel and film) convened a who's who of these super-heroes, Sherlock Holmes was excluded for he was in a league of his own.

From "The Seven-Per-Cent Solution" (1974) of Nicholas Meyer (where Sigmund Freud works with Sherlock) to the current Mary Russell series of Laurie King (where Sherlock finds a brilliant feminist mate), the fun has been reading of the new situations that Sherlock finds himself placed in while staying true to the canon created by Arthur Conan Doyle. Mitch Collin's contribution to the genre is imaging Sherlock as a 93 year old in the aftermath of World War II.

It is an entertaining read which aspires to a poignant ending. The writing is clear and crisp without a misstep. The creative difference is Holmes pondering his inner emotional life in the twilight of his days. The reader does not need to be a Sherlock Homes fan to appreciate this novel. Afterwards the reader may want to consult Leslie Klinger's "The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes" (2004) which contains all 56 of the short stories to see if Mr. Cullin got the details right. I believe that he did.

What a joy it has been of late for us Sherlockians. Not only has there been a batch of new scholarly Holmes-related books to digest and debate--among them THE NEW ANNOTATED SHERLOCK HOLMES--but we've also been blessed with three very interesting and top-notch pastiches. What makes this trio of recent novels so unique is that they come from unlikely writers, individuals who fall more into the literary category than the mystery genre. I am, of course, referring to the three-headed prong that is Caleb Carr (THE ITALIAN SECRETARY), Michael Chabon (THE FINAL SOLUTION), and Mitch Cullin (A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND).

As I decided to read all three books back to back, I shall comment on them in the order in which they were read. For better or worse, I started with the one that I believed would be the most satisfying of the trio: Caleb Carr's THE ITALIAN SECRETARY. However, while I found Carr's book engaging and fun for the most part, I was somewhat disappointed with it. In hindsight, my feelings might have more to do with my high regard for Carr's previous novels--such as THE ALIENIST--than it does with the actual quality of his Sherlock novel. In other words, had THE ITALIAN SECRETARY been written by someone else, I might not have found myself feeling it lacked the strength and depth of story that I've come to expect from, yes, a Caleb Carr novel. So putting those thoughts aside, I will say that Carr's book is mostly well written and he has done a good job at capturing the spirit, intrigue, and style of Doyle. However, it fell a little flat toward the end, giving me the sense of a rushed job. Even so, both his Holmes and Watson are vivid and quite enjoyable, and I do hope he tries his hand at another Sherlock pastiche, taking his time to draw the story out rather than move it so swiftly to its conclusion. A somewhat slight but worthy read nevertheless.

Next up was Michael Chabon's THE FINAL SOLUTION, the Pulitzer-Prize winning writer's look at an unnamed Sherlock in retirement, set with World War II as the backdrop. This novella--not novel--is actually quite wonderful and the writing is fluid, lyrical, and overall rather excellent. To be frank, I wasn't expecting much from such a slim volume that offered us Sherlock as an elderly gentleman. But I was mistaken. It is an intelligent diversion, and, like Mitch Cullin's novel, brings the character into a modern age that somewhat confounds him. If I have any complaints, though, it is that Chabon made a point of never mentioning Sherlock by name (he is simply The Old Man), and, by doing so, skirted the character's history and much of his background, making him a bit one dimensional. The shortness of the book, too, didn't leave much room for the plot (which is, by the way, very interesting) or other characters to be developed at any great length. Still, there was enough here to hold my interest, and, in its own way, THE FINAL SOLUTION not only compliments Mitch Cullin's longer work but its themes and story also function as a kind of extended prologue to the last book in the threesome. A wonderfully written, thoughtful addition to Holmes literature that manages to pack a decent punch in too few pages.

Poor Mitch Cullin, I thought when I finally got around to his A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND. Besides holding the distinction of being "the best American novelist you`ve probably never heard of," his attempt to capture Sherlock followed in the shadows of both Carr and Chabon's efforts (although, by comparison, I'm willing to bet Cullin toiled on his book much longer than either of his contemporaries). And yet, of the three, his vision of Holmes is the most interesting and the best realized. The writing is superb, if not downright poetic at times. Most important to me, however, was that the elderly Sherlock of this novel has been humanized in a very realistic manner but yet, without question, still reads and sounds like Doyle's creation. That is no easy achievement, and one that should be applauded. In the hands of a lesser writer, this feeble version of Sherlock could easily be considered a bad joke, or, worse, a fraud. But Cullin has rendered him with such attention and, dare I say it, loving detail that I held no doubts about the character by the book`s end. It also helped considerably that this writer had clearly researched the Canon in order to keep his facts accurate. However, to say this is a mystery novel would be misleading, because it is actually something more than that. Yes, there is a mystery here--mysteries, in fact--but they are of the grand human scale (Hiroshima, war, memory, isolation, loss of loved ones) rather than the parlor room variety, and as such they are much harder to solve. The best of the batch, and a masterful literary effort that is also a worthy addition to the Canon Pastiche.

--Beth Halloway

In Mitch Cullin's fond memoirs of Sherlock Holmes living out his golden years, we see the solitary man at 93 and freshly returned from a trip to Kobe, Japan. For many years he has been retired to his country house in Sussex, having outlived Dr. Watson, Mrs. Hudson, and brother Mycroft. He wishes for nothing more than the solitary life --- not surprising, never having been a particularly gregarious sort --- and the time to tend his bees. But, however improbable, the 14-year-old son of his widowed housekeeper becomes his unlikely companion.

"...they faced the hives together, saying nothing for a while. Silence like this, in the beeyard, never failed to please him wholly; from the way Roger stood easily beside him, he believed the boy shared an equal satisfaction. And while he rarely enjoyed the company of children, it was difficult avoiding the paternal stirrings..."

Roger, quite obviously in awe of the aged detective, eagerly aids him with his apiary and escorts him around his gardens. The lad soaks up everything like a sponge and thirsts for more. In secret, he sneaks into Holmes's attic library, just to be among the great man's books and feel his ancient aura. While up there one day, Roger discovers an unfinished manuscript among the items on the desk. Titled "The Glass Armonicist," the story chronicles a case pursued by Holmes in Dr. Watson's absence, the subject of this case being a lovely young woman who inexplicably seized Holmes's fancy. She haunts his memory still, despite their brief encounter. As A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND unfolds, "The Glass Armonicist" is completed, while Holmes can still sort out the sequence of events. This story within a story wonderfully contrasts the quickness of Sherlock Holmes in his prime with the man now in his decline.

Softened by the years, the stoic Holmes feels a genuine fondness for the boy. To his bemused astonishment, he seeks to uncover Roger's personal history, finding him more than merely unobtrusive; in fact, quite remarkable. What he knows is that Roger lost his father in the war, leaving the child with tender memories and a hunger for a male role model. Holmes met another fatherless son on his recent trip to Japan. Unlike Roger's dad, though, Tamiki Umezaki's father simply made a choice not to come home one day. Both carry the scars of their loss, while Holmes fills a void in each of their lives, however fleeting.

At his advanced age, Holmes is still sharp, but time has dulled the edges of his memory. Occasionally disoriented, he sometimes is unsure whether he is remembering something from the past or contemporary times. Having lived so full a life, the myriad recollections get jumbled and he struggles to put them right. In fact, his journey to Kobe revolved around a chance to procure a supply of royal jelly, a substance said to halt the aging process. Holmes fervently wishes to stop the advancing brain muddle.

Beautiful, poignant and very sad, A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND retains enough of Holmes's remarkable powers to delight his many dedicated fans. But there is such exquisite writing, moving introspection and gentle ruminations about the vagaries of memory loss to draw in every reader who has a heart.

--- Reviewed by Kate Ayers

Now ninety-three, Sherlock Holmes seems to be winding down from an illustrious and famous life. He's' finally glad to be back to the pastoral security if his stone-built farmhouse deep in the Sussex Countryside with the "rituals of his orderly country life."

Sherlock has just been on an enlightening, but exhausting tour of the occupied shores of postwar Japan, visiting a Mr. Umezaki, an enigmatic Anglophile, who has been helping him with the distinctive search for the "longevity-promoting" prickly ash.

Perhaps the search has been in vain, because lately, extreme old-age has catching up with poor Sherlock; memory is beginning to play tricks on him, and glimpses of a life, well-led, play before him, with "brief remembrances becoming vague impressions and invariably forgotten again." It is now 1947, and having survived two great wars, Sherlock is often at a loss to remember so much of his long and memorable life.

Forced to walk with two canes, he often misplaces things - "my cigars, my canes, sometimes even my own shoes." He even finds things in his own pockets that mystify him, but he retains his sense of humour, concluding that its "all rather amusing and horrifying in the same instant."

Comfortably ensconced in Sussex, Holmes finds himself drawn to the 14-year-old Roger, the artistic, shy, and awkward son of his housekeeper Mrs. Munro. Roger, is full of admiration for the aging detective, and when he's not ensconced in Holmes' attic study in the dark of night furtively reading The Glass Armonist, the sleuth's half-completed manuscript, he's attending to Holmes' apiary, thoroughly fascinated by his collection of honey bees.

With Roger, Holmes attempts to bridge the lifetime between them, and his well-lived voice somehow makes Roger feel much older and worldlier than his years. But he fails to adequately educate the young boy on the indescribable danger of bees, and a fatal accident results. This is the last thing that Holmes needs at his age, and the tragedy has a profound, heart-felt effect on him. The irascible detective is forced to rethink his life of "hard evidence and uncontestable facts," where the emphasis was always on detailed observations on external matters, with very little contemplation pertaining to himself - his soul.

Buried in the Glass Armonist, and uncovered by Roger, lies an old romantic infatuation. Roger reads this story, and Holmes is finally able to finish writing it before our eyes. For years, Holmes was renowned as one who could discover answers when events appear desperate, but now he struggles to remember an enigmatic and troubled young woman whom he had met decades ago. She compels herself into his thoughts during the nighttime and comes to him as a vivid, fully formed specter.

"When you look upon me," Holmes tells his grief-stricken housekeeper, "I believe you find a man incapable of feeling." Maybe this is a willful reluctance to express what he really feels in his heart. What is certain is that Holmes is a relic of an age that had slowly dismantled itself, and where memory has become a restricted, inhospitable domain - a place where public access is now forbidden.

A Slight Trick of the Mind is a beautifully written account of the significance of mind and memory, and a life so gloriously lived. The strands of Sherlock's memory have begun unwinding, the receding threads floating away, disappearing into the night "like leaves whisked from the gutters."

The prose mirrors Holmes's preference for the intellectual and rational over the emotional, lending the novel a slightly detached, considered, and measured air. Still, what unfolds is a lovely, thoughtful, and melancholy story, and an often-moving, quite exquisite meditation on memory and loss. Mike Leonard May 05.

Since the last Sherlock Holmes story by Conan Doyle appeared in 1927, countless authors have tried their hand at resurrecting him in literary pastiches -- with varying degrees of success. Two I have read recently merit the attention of mystery readers and Holmes aficionados. The better of the two, A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND, by Mitch Cullin, rivals those of Julian Symons and Nicholas Meyers in my esteem. The second, THE HOLMES FACTOR, by Brian Freemantle is thoroughly enjoyable without deserving such exalted comparisons.

"The Beekeeper's Apprentice" would have made a fine title for Cullin's book if Laurie R King had not already used it for the first title in her Holmes series featuring Mary Russell. The pastiches by King and Freemantle embroil a still vigorous Holmes in WWI era espionage. Cullin shows us a Holmes of 93 -- a Sherlock in winter -- who is struggling against that final enemy that we all dread: the waning of the mind.

It is 1947. Watson, Mrs Hudson, and Mycroft are long dead, but Holmes is still tending his bees in coastal Sussex. He doses himself with royal jelly, hoping to retard the decline of his mental and physical powers. His only companions are his new housekeeper, Mrs Munro, and fourteen year old son, Roger.

Holmes has just returned from occupied Japan where he was asked to find a person missing since 1903. This just one of three mysteries that intertwine in A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND. Another, which Holmes is trying to commit to paper for his memoirs, dates from his salad years. The third, concerning his beloved beeyard, occurs in the present. All three involve aspects of the human capacity to love.

Cullin makes the reader feel Holmes' mingled fear and irritation at his diminished capacity. He forgets directions he has given to Roger and Mrs. Munro. He discovers notes, now undecipherable, he had stuffed into favorite books. Cullin's clever alternation between plot lines emphasizes Sherlock's wavering attention span. This adds depth and a poignancy to this story that I have not found in any other Holmes pastiche. Very highly recommended.

Subtle, melancholy, and poetic by design, "A Slight Trick of the Mind" gives us a look at Sherlock Holmes after the end of The Great War. Now in his 90s and retired to the Sussex downs, the detective uses two canes to help him walk, and his keen mind is beginning to grow weaker. This elegiac character study moves effortlessly between three beautifully realized stories, flowing from one into the other in a manner that deftly mimics the fluidity of memory and thought patterns. The stories include a post-Hiroshima trip to Japan, Holmes's relationship with his housekeeper and her young son, and a tale written by the detective called "The Glass Armonicist."

Some readers may be disappointed to find that this book is not by any means a traditional mystery, but, rather, it is an examination of larger, deeper human mysteries--the answers to which are much harder to make sense of. There was a time when books like this were called literature, and, in fact, there is something wonderfully anachronistic about Cullin's writing style and subject matter--so much so that this deceptively simple story with such complicated undercurrents now feels suddenly refreshing in a world where "The Da Vinci Code" is regarded as meaningful fiction.

More importantly, though, Cullin has shed new light on a Holmes who still remains recognizable to those of us who have followed both Doyle's canon and the countless pastiches. But for those who wish to be merely entertained rather than being transported by truly fine writing, this might not be your cup of tea. That said, "A Slight Trick of the Mind" ranks among the top Sherlock Holmes pastiches ever written (alongside "The Seven Percent Solution," H.F. Heard's "A Taste For Honey," and Laurie R. King's Mary Russell series), but it also succeeds on its own terms as a great piece of modern literature.

Not a huge fan of books with recycled fictional characters, I approached SLIGHT TRICK with skepticism. But after turning the opening pages I was both relieved and thrilled. With a respectful nod to Doyle, Cullin has made Holmes his own.

I'm a bit confused by the mere suggestion that there's a "politcal agenda" afoot in this impressively written novel, unless there's another version floating around set during World War II and with Sherlock Holmes flying co-pilot on the Enola Gay. Otherwise, A Slight Trick of the Mind is a splendidly lucid and meditative look at the diverse phenomena of human remembering. Set in equal parts in Victorian England, post-war Japan of 1947 and not at all during the war, and rural Sussex, the book is revealing in three stories that come together into one haunting note. As an examination of grief and unrequited love it is a novel that also wrings at your heart. The fact that it stars Sherlock Holmes is pretty much a secondary concern, because Mitch Cullen's gift for both language and story-telling has given us a universal story most of us can relate to or will relate to. Read it for yourself and see.