Some Further Thoughts on Private Revenge by John Keath

Some Further Thoughts on Private Revenge

By John Keath

Maybe it's just me or maybe it's coming back to the stories after so long an absence.  

What I get from the stories is not the same what got when I first read them as a teenager.  And what I look for now, is not what I looked for then, either.

I now look for the well-turned phrase that jumps out to me from the canon, which often encapsulates the story or some aspect of Holmes' extraordinary powers.

In this respect our most recent story, "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton," does not disappoint:

"I think there are certain crimes," says Holmes in the second to last paragraph of the story, "which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge." 

(Here, I should acknowledge the implications of this quotation for Rich's theory regarding the identity of the murderer in this case that he presented at our meeting.  But putting that it to one side, I find compelled to take Watson at his word as he presents the story.)

"Milverton" is perhaps not the most loved of the adventures.  It never made Conan Doyle's top 10 favorites list, or maybe anyone's.

But it well represents two of Doyle's most enduring contributions to the development of the genre of detective fiction. 

The first is the requirement that the story have a worthy adversary or villain.  The physical appearance of Milverton captured by Sydney Paget or Frederic Dorr Steele would be enough to impress him deeply into our consciousness.  (Even down to the astrakhan coat and the spectacles) 

It is hard to imagine a more fitting portrayal than Robert Hardy's performance in "The Master Blackmailer," (Granada, 1992).  (Could this same actor have also portrayed Winston Churchill?) 

But his manner--oh, his manner!  So reptilian and supercilious--bordering on the unctuous. So reprehensible and officious.  The universal response of almost everyone he comes in contact with is to recoil in moral outrage. 

In a word, oleaginous.

To be sure, Milverton seems more than equal to Holmes' challenges.  Their negotiation session yields no favorable resolution and Milverton leaves Baker Street ostensibly the winner "with a bow, a smile, and a twinkle." 

His curtained lair in isolated Appledore Towers features a a desk and red-leather turning chair, a tall green safe, and a large bookcase bearing a marble bust of Athena.  Every worthy villain must have a lair.  It only lacks a sign over the door saying "Abandoned all hope ye who enter here."  (Granada's CAM coach is also a nice touch).

So, Milverton certainly fills the bill of the requirement that a story have a true villain.  Even Lestrade agrees.

We now turn to the second requirement of a good detective story: that the mystery have a satisfying resolution.

To me, I find the shooting of Milverton befitting the ends of justice. We have spoken in our meetings of Holmes' special brand of justice, of when he will act and when he will not.  

In this case Holmes' "cold, strong grip upon [Watson's] wrist" makes clear his sentiments and intent as the murderess pumps bullet after bullet into Milverton's "shrinking body."  No tears are shed over his demise.

If there be justifiable homicide, let this be one.

Further, Watson's concepts of morality are likewise unchallenged by the course of events.  He states simply "justice had overtaken a villain."

So what of the witness?

What witness, you ask?

Have you forgotten the silent, omniscient marble bust of Athena?

This bothered me a little bit at first.  The Master Blackmailer took this aspect in an interesting direction in its extrapolations of the story, but I was not completely convinced.  So I did some research and found a different answer that seems to me to make some additional sense.   

I was curious about Athena, so I checked and learned that the Greeks viewed her as the goddess of wisdom, warfare, and other things.  Among her various symbols, I found snakes.  Suddenly it fits.  That Milverton would operate under her gaze seemed apropos.  

Holmes acted so coolly in the immediate wake of the shooting, without hesitation, but with sure dispatch, consigning venomous letters to the fire.   Their power reduced to ashes, they would cause no further injury.   

And in the final sense, Isn't it a fitting resolution that this comes as an offering at the altar of Athena?   And that a man who despicably dealt in the secrets of others dies at the hands of ever-secret avenger(s) before the silent god of his own creation and destruction?

A private revenge.