Maurice LeBlanc, Arsene Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes

 Introduction

Opening Passage: 

On the eighth day of last December, Mon. Gerbois, professor of mathematics at the College of Versailles, while rummaging in an old curiosity-shop, unearthed a small mahogany writing-desk which pleased him very much on account of the multiplicity of its drawers. (p. 1)

Summary: Mon. Gerbois buys a writing desk for his daughter. It is soon stolen by Arsène Lupin, and Mon. Gerbois shortly afterward realizes that he had accidentally left a lottery ticket in the desk that turns out to have the winning numbers. Lupin offers to return it if he gets half the winnings, and, partly at the instigation of the detective Ganimard, Gerbois agrees so that Ganimard can lay a trap. Lupin, however, gets away scot-free by escaping with a blonde lady. When the blonde lady becomes associated with a later theft of a blue diamond, Ganimard deduces that Lupin was involved. The victims of the theft in the meantime make an appeal to the greatest detective in Europe, Herlock Sholmes. Quite by accident, in a restaurant Lupin and his biographer happen to meet Herlock Sholmes and his enthusiastic biographer Dr. Wilson; they agree that the case will be resolved one way or another within ten days. There is quite a bit of back-and-forth, as the detective who always solves the case tracks down everything he needs to reclaim the blue diamond and get Lupin arrested. Sholmes does in fact succeed. But if he is the detective who always solves the case, Lupin is the thief who always gets away, and despite being arrested, as Sholmes and Wilson are heading back home, Lupin, having escaped the French police, stops by to wish them farewell, and it is clear that they will face off again.

The opportunity comes along a bit later when Sholmes receives a letter from France asking for his help in recovering a Jewish lamp, and at the same time a letter from Lupin telling him not to get involved. This, of course, guarantees that Sholmes makes the trip to France again, and again they face off against each other. But Sholmes is perhaps forgetting that there can be collateral damage in his pursuit of criminals.

This is a delightfully funny book. I think the blue diamond case is much more interesting in some ways than the Jewish lamp case, but both have great moments. I particularly liked the ingenuity with which Lupin lays traps for Sholmes, at one point locking him in a house for a night (but courteously providing him with a picnic) and at another getting him tied up and put on a boat for Southampton (which, however, will not be as successful as he hoped). They easily put Lupin in the heady circle of foes genuinely fit for Sherlock Holmes (and despite the transparent legal cover of 'Herlock Sholmes', there is no question that LeBlanc's intent is to write a plausible Sherlock Holmes, at least as to cleverness of reasoning). In Lupin's case, he's not exactly a nemesis. Unlike Moriarty, say, he's never a danger to the detective himself, and Holmes actually succeeds every time he squares off against Lupin -- albeit never in quite the way he wants to succeed. Rather he is an equal opposite, a rival of sorts. 

Of course, LeBlanc also doesn't hesitate at times to use Herlock Sholmes both to poke fun at the English and at the original Doyle stories. There is a running joke of Dr. Wilson being dense but admiring of Sholmes while Sholmes repeatedly puts Wilson in danger without any qualms, at one point remarking that it's lucky that Wilson's arm was broken rather than his own. And Sholmes has a continual inability to acknowledge his own emotions; my very favorite example of this, below, is when he says that nothing disturbs him while his voice is literally trembling with rage. But the fun is good fun, not malicious, and LeBlanc also at times uses Sholmes as a foil to make fun of the famous French sentimentalism and tendency to love affairs, which certainly characterize Europe's greatest thief.

Favorite Passage:

"Ah! Sholmes, you are a wonderful man! You have such a command over your temper. Nothing ever disturbs you."

"No, nothing disturbs me," replied Sholmes, in a voice that trembled from rage; "besides, what's the use of losing my temper?...I am quite confident of the final result; I shall have the last word." (p. 85)

Recommendation: Highly Recommended.

*****

Maurice LeBlanc, Arsène Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes, Fox Eye Publishing (Leicester, UK: 2022).

Music on My Mind

 

Caroline Cobb, "We Wait for You".

Isidorus Hispalensis

 Today is the feast of St. Isidore of Seville, Doctor of the Church. From his Etymologies, 6.19.38-42 (my translation):

The sacrifice [sacrificium] is said to be as it were a sacred act [sacrum factum] because by mystical prayer [prece mystica] it is consecrated [consecratur] to the memory of the Lord's suffering for us; thus at his bidding we call it the body and the blood of Christ, which, while it is made from the fruits of the earth, is sanctified [sanctificatur] and becomes a sacrament [fit sacramentum] by the Holy Spirit working invisibly [invisibiliter], of which sacrament [sacramentum] of bread and cup the Greeks call 'Eucharist', which is interpreted in Latin as 'good grace' [bona gratia]. And what is better than the body and blood of Christ? The sacrament [sacramentum] occurs in a celebration when a deed done is understood as to signify something that is received in a holy way [sancte]. And so baptism and chrism, body and blood, are sacraments [sacramenta]. These are called sacraments [sacramenta] because, under the bodily skin of the thing, the divine power secretly [secretius] works the salvation pertaining to those sacraments [sacramenta]; thus on the basis of secret power [secretis virtutibus] or sacred power [sacris] they are called 'sacraments'. These are fruitfully accomplished in the hands of the Church because the Holy Spirit dwelling in it works the effect of the sacraments [sacramentorum] in a hidden way [latenter]. Thus, whether they are dispensed within the church of God by good or bad ministers, still the Holy Spirit, who once appeared in the times of the apostles by visible works, mystically [mystice] vivifies them. These gifts are neither amplified by the merits of good dispensers nor attenuated by those of the bad, because (1 Cor 3:7) 'Neither is he that plants anything, nor he that waters, but God gives the increase.' Thus in Greek it is called 'mystery' [mysterium], because it has a secret [secretum] and concealed disposition.

'Secretum' and its cognates are quite difficult to translate in contexts like this; 'secretum' literally means 'separated or set apart', but can also mean secluded, severed, rejected, excluded, nonobvious, confided, entrusted, private, hidden, personal, consecrated, and, of course (though less often than one might think), secret or clandestine. It's not surprising that Isidore interprets 'eucharist' as 'bona gratia', but it's interesting that he seems to interpret this as specifically indicating its value ("And what is better than the body and blood of Christ?"), so that the emphasis is on the 'bona'.

Etymologiae (Re-Post)

 Tomorrow is the feast of St. Isidore of Seville, so here is a re-post (slightly revised) from 2019.

************

 

I was looking at Isidore's Etymologiae today and had an insight into the medieval practice of etymologia. I've noted before that it's a mistake to overhistoricize what the medievals were doing with their etymologies. For us, etymology is a historical reconstruction, but while the medievals thought there was some kind of rough historical connection, the medievals aren't trying to reconstruct the history. For them, etymologia is not a historical origin, per se, but an imperfect definition -- it is a definition-like thing, not a history-like thing, that falls short of the full conditions for a good definition. In particular, if you are giving the etymologia of a word, you are defining it (imperfectly) in terms of similar words.

Now, this is to us an odd thing to take seriously; why would there be any particular importance in using similar words? If we were doing it in English, it would usually be a game. Nonetheless, you still can find cases here and there where it's obviously relevant. I've noted before it's actually essential to understanding 'parameter' that people in colloquial English take parameters to establish perimeters, even though the only reason for this is that 'parameter' and 'perimeter' are similar words. English is a blocky language, so it's even easier to see in common phrases than in particular words: the common misuse of the original technical term 'begging the question' is inevitable, and even people who insist on keeping the technical meaning will often, if you ask what the phrase means, try to fit the 'begging' in somehow, even though it's only there due to an oddly strong and overliteral translation of the Latin petitio, not because it has anything to do with begging as such. The use of the word 'begging' creates, however, an almost irresistible attraction toward explanation in terms of begging, and almost certainly influences how the phrase is actually used.

But, of course, the medievals were not thinking in terms of English but in terms of Latin and (sometimes) Greek. And, structurally, what is Latin like? It consists of roots, prefixes, suffixes, case endings, and the like, and shortened forms are actually fairly common. So what St. Isidore is doing is just rationally extrapolating this to the limit, and proceeding on the assumption that every non-basic Latin word consists of further roots. All Latin words break up into little bits anyway; lots of those little bits obviously contribute to the meaning; it at least raises the question what the other little bits might be doing.

So, for instance, Isidore's etymology for gladius, sword, is gulam dividere, splitting the throat. What is his reasoning? He's not merely playing a word game. As he sees it, gladius breaks up into smaller elements:

g(*)la
di

The component g(*)la is shared with gula; the component di is shared with dividere -- and, indeed, it is found in lots of Latin words that have something to do with dividing. So we get gulam dividere; and since it makes sense to think of a sword as a throat-splitter, he takes that we have here come up with a plausible candidate for more basic words using the same components that capture the meaning of gladius at least roughly. (And Isidore is never really dogmatic about his etymologies, often willing to propose alternatives, although some of his proposals are so catchy that once he proposes them they become how people think of the original words anyway.)

A bigger stretch is spes, which he explains as pes progrediendi. Spes and pes obviously share a component; so to make sense of how this component in 'foot' can apply to 'hope' as well, we need to ask, "What hope-like things does a foot do?" And Isidore's answer is the obvious one: it moves forward.

Completeness, Action, Beauty

 Diversity of statuses and offices in the Church pertains to three things. The very first, to completeness of the Church itself. For just as in the order of natural things, completeness, which in God is found simply and uniformly, in the universe of creatures is not able to be found except differently and plurally, so also the fullness of grace, which in Christ as in the head is united, to the members overflows in many ways, so that the body of the Church may be complete. And this is what the Apostle says, Eph. 4: He gave some as apostles, some as  prophets, others as evangelists, and others as shepherds and teachers, to the fulfillment of the saints. 

And secondly it pertains to the the necessity of the actions which are necessary in the Church. For it is fitting for diverse actions to be deputed to diverse men, in order that all may be accomplished readily and without confusion. And this is what the Apostle says, Rom. 12: As in one body we have many members, and all members do not have one act, so we many are one in Christ.

And thirdly, it pertains to the the dignity and beauty of the Church, which consists in a certain order. Wherefore it is said, 1 Kgs 10, that the Queen of Sheba on seeing the wisdom of Solomon, and the rooms of his servants, and the orders of his ministers, had no more spirit. Wherefore also the apostle says, 2 Tim. 2, that in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay.

[Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 2-2.183.2 corpus, my rough translation.]

Where the Fool Remains Forever and the April Comes No More

 The Aristocrat
by G. K. Chesterton 

 The Devil is a gentleman, and asks you down to stay
At the little place at What'sitsname (it isn't far away).
They say the sport is splendid; there is always something new,
And fairy scenes, and fearful feats that none but he can do;
He can shoot the feathered cherubs if they fly on the estate,
Or fish for Father Neptune with the mermaids for a bait;
He scaled amid the staggering stars that precipice, the sky,
And blew his trumpet above heaven, and got by mastery
The starry crown of God Himself, and shoved it on the shelf;
But the Devil is a gentleman, and doesn't brag himself. 

 O blind your eyes and break your heart and hack your hand away,
And lose your love and shave your head; but do not go to stay
At the little place in What'sitsname where folks are rich and clever;
The golden and the goodly house, where things grow worse for ever;
There are things you need not know of, though you live and die in vain,
There are souls more sick of pleasure than you are sick of pain;
There is a game of April Fool that's played behind its door,
Where the fool remains for ever and the April comes no more
Where the splendour of the daylight grows drearier than the dark,
And life droops like a vulture that once was such a lark:
And that is the Blue Devil that once was the Blue Bird;
For the Devil is a gentleman, and doesn't keep his word.

Admin Note

 About a year ago, I switched commenting systems; Disqus had become increasing bloated and unpleasant to use, so I switched to Commento, which had the advantage of being relatively cheap and, compared to Disqus, massively easier and quicker to load. As a transitional thing it worked well enough, but it quickly became clear that there was inadequate support and it would occasionally go rather inconsistent. Unfortunately, it has grown increasingly inconsistent in the past month or so, to the extent that it is very unpredictable. And I've occasionally been locked out of comments myself recently. Commento wasn't expensive, but I'm certainly not paying for a third-party commenting platform in order not to have access to the commenting system. So it's definitely time to move on.

And it is as tricky a matter as one might expect; most of the commenting systems out there are either absurdly expensive (obviously for businesses rather than little blogging endeavors) or overloaded (with indefinite waiting lists) or are obviously lacking in other ways. After some research, I've decided to try CommentBox for a while. Because Commento is acting up, I'm not sure I'll be able to import any Commento comments, so if you were extraordinarily proud of some comment you left in the past year, I apologize, I guess, since it might be lost to all but the omniscience of God.

It allows for simple Markdown (*italic* for italic, **bold** for bold, > for blockquote). Replies to comments are not particularly good, I'm afraid, although there is a little icon near the name for the comment which if clicked gives a menu by which you can reply to a comment (which in practice, I think, just means that it puts it below the comment to which you are replying and lets those who have clicked the box for emailed replies get a notification.). Comments can be edited for about eight minutes after posting.  It requires sign-in (by social media or email) but once you've signed in, there's a little box you can click to post anonymously, and another if you want emailed replies. As with Commento, it will only be on the web version. (I'm sure there's a way it could be done on the mobile site, but the problem is that it would require extensive experimentation with figuring out how to put the relevant snippets in the HTML, and Blogger does not make that easy anymore.) We'll see how it does with spam (which is not as big a problem as it once was, but still occasionally causes problems); the moderation options are not particularly extensive, but as it's a roughly-free commenting service for the moment (it only costs if you get above a certain number of comments a month, a number that I have not reached in a few years now). 

Let me know if it gives you trouble.