AM ALWAYS HAPPY TO SUPPORT THE ARTS, and especially any well-regarded play in Canada that also appeals to Holmes fans. At the Diesel Playhouse is running an award-winning play called Antoine Feval:

Meet Barnaby Gibbs: an incurable optimist, Sherlock Holmes fan, and a man who knows he’s not particularly good at anything. One night, while checking on a friend’s empty house, he encounters a stranger, dressed entirely in black, holding a bag full of stolen belongings and attempting to write a poem about sapphires. There is only one conclusion a reasonable man could come to: this is the notorious cat burglar / con-man known as the Rhyming Bandit! However, Barnaby is not a reasonable man, and when the stranger explains he is actually the famous detective Antoine Feval, a new crime-fighting duo is born.

The comedy is running in Toronto from the 15th to the 25th of this month. More information is available at the Diesel Playhouse. Next up are runs in New Zealand and New Mexico.

HEN I FIRST HEARD THE NAME OF SOLAR PONS, some ten years ago, at first I mentally grouped him with the other (often badly written) parodies like Hemlock Sholmes. A huge disservice, I realised soon thereafter, for Solar Pons is one of the few pastiche series that can actually come close to those of ACD’s original creations. In fact, this detective has quite a few fans of his own, the most enthusiastic of which is undoubtedly Bob Byrne, whose true labour of love, the website SolarPons.com, along with his sumptuously written and illustrated Solar Pons Gazette, is a veritable monument to August Derleth’s creation.

I’ve asked Bob to write a short introduction to Solar Pons for us, and he has graced us with the following….

Solar Pons?

Who is that? The Sherlock Holmes reader is painfully aware of how many stories featuring the world’s first consulting detective are available. While many are of admirable quality, many, many more are not. But one suspects that the Master himself would flash that wry
smile in acknowledging that the finest pastiches feature a detective not named Holmes! Young August Derleth, disappointed to learn that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would not be writing any additional Holmes tales, took it upon himself to continue the tradition of the great detective. Thus was created Solar Pons, ‘The Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street.’

Solar Pons and his trustworthy companion, Doctor Parker, reside at 7B Praed Street, taken care of by their long-suffering landlady, Mrs. Johnson. Of the multitude to follow in the footsteps of Sir Arthur, none as faithfully evoke the images of the dynamic duo from Baker Street. The spirit of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson lives on in the tales of August Derleth.

www.SolarPons.com is the first website dedicated solely to the adventures of Solar Pons. The Holmes fan that has not yet discovered these stories is likely in for a treat.

If you haven’t yet seen it, count on spending an entertaining hour or so browsing through his lavish Solar Pons Gazette, of which I’m told there is a short Christmas issue forthcoming, to be followed by another large edition next year.

R. IAN VISSER OF TORONTO, ONTARIO, is in the enviable position (well, at least from my perspective) of having access to the vast archives of the Toronto Star, in which he has found numerous pieces on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes going back more than a century, including some intriguing advertisements of the time featuring the Great Detective. Mr. Visser has been kind enough to send a few of these to me, with plenty more to come. As I receive them, I’ll clean them up and post them here, transcribing the contents when the quality makes them difficult to read.

Here is the first article, which covers a Canadian lecture by ACD, and which appeared in the Toronto Star on November 24th, 1897. It is transcribed below, and you can also download an image of the article, or a PDF of the full page.

An Author’s Life

Dr. A. Conan Doyle Sketches His Own Career.
Tells of the Creation of Sherlock Holmes.
An Interesting Lecture by an Interesting Man.

Dr. Conan Doyle gained success from writing a department of literature in which his heart never was. He said last night in his lecture at Massey [?] Music Hall that Sherlock Holmes was dead, and that he would not be resurrected.

It is the historical novel, with its gay, bright pictures of chivalry and deeds of daring like those in which Scott won his fame that the worthy author longs for and will make his future work.

Dr. Doyle says that he is not Sherlock Holmes. He claims no superiority as a detective. He says that he has been deluged with letters requesting him to attempt to solve mysterious [sic] but that he has never undertaken any case. He says he is not a sharp man, and that he only in writing puts himself in the position of a shrewd man and imagines what the shrewd man would do.

“It is rather embarrassing to speak about one’s self,” said Dr. Doyle when he began his address. “I would prefer to talk about some other author’s work, but I suppose all are interested in me on account of what I have written.”

Dr. Doyle is a giant in size. He looks to be about six feet four and is not at all slim. His style of lecturing is not at all attractive, and it was believed that had he chosen any other subject, as he said he had wished, that he would not have been so entertaining.

He stood all the evening behind a high desk, and spoke from a carefully prepared manuscript. The audience was a Sherlock Holmes-Conan Doyle one, and every one present listened intently to all that was said.

The lecture was an autobiographical sketch. It began with early reminiscences, when in childhood he met and sat on the knee of William Makapiece Thackeray. He hold of his first short story, written at the age of six, of his entrance into literary work and his short story writing.

When he came to tell of Sherlock Holmes he read some short sketches from the memoirs and adventures of the far-famed detective.

He told of his historical novels, of the writing of “Micah Clarke,” “The White Company,” “The Great Shadow” and “The Refugees.”

Of the last he spoke most probably because it was based on a Canadian subject. He said that his work in that had been a labor of love, for he had attempted to join together whatever interested two factions of the English-speaking race, whose common language had oftentimes been used only for libel and mutual reproach.

The program was completed by a reading from an unpublished piece, “The Lord of Chateau Noir,” which is one of the strongest extracts of all his works.

My heartfelt thanks goes out to Mr. Visser for taking the time and effort to make these articles available to us.