Regis University ePublications at Regis University All Regis University Theses Spring 2019 An Infinite Capacity for Co-consulting: Gender Constructions and Mentorship on CBS's Elementary Heather Hufford Regis University Follow this and additional works at: https://epublications.regis.edu/theses Recommended Citation Hufford, Heather, "An Infinite Capacity for Co-consulting: Gender Constructions and Mentorship on CBS's Elementary" (2019). All Regis University Theses. 929. https://epublications.regis.edu/theses/929 This Thesis - Open Access is brought to you for free and open access by ePublications at Regis University. It has been accepted for inclusion in All Regis University Theses by an authorized administrator of ePublications at Regis University. For more information, please contact [email protected]. AN INFINITE CAPACITY FOR CO-CONSULTING: GENDER CONSTRUCTIONS AND MENTORSHIP ON CBS’S ELEMENTARY A thesis submitted to Regis College The Honors Program in partial fulfillment of the requirements for graduation with Honors by Heather Hufford May 2019 Thesis written by Heather Hufford Approved by Thesis Advisor Thesis Reader Accepted by Director, University Honors Program ii TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iv I. INTRODUCTION: THE FRIENDS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES 1 II. READING ELEMENTARY AS AN ATTEMPT AT PORTRAYING 12 GENDER EQUALITY III. CONFLICTING PERMEABILITIES IN PATERNAL MENTORSHIPS 34 IN “RIP OFF” IV. INTERACTIONS BETWEEN GENDERED SPACE AND 52 MENTORSHIPS IN “TERRA PERICOLOSA” V. GENDERED CONFLICTS BETWEEN HARD-BOILED AND 75 PROCEDURAL TRADITIONS IN “THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY” WORKS CITED 110 iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS In the conclusion of “The Five Orange Pipz,” Elementary’s Sherlock Holmes remarks, “They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains. It's a very bad definition, but it does apply to detective work.” He promises his protégée that if she wants to be a detective, she’ll have to take pains. I love this quote because it seems to capture Sherlock’s brutal dismissal of the ideas he finds malformed, and yet it brushes against the things that make his work excruciating and satisfying. I liked it so much that I borrowed it for my title. I play with the idea that mentorship, like detective work, takes the pains to co-consult. It is one thing to offer one’s opinion; it is another to give someone a leg up so that they have the space to do the same. In a thesis about mentorship, it is only appropriate to thank my own mentors and friends, who likewise gave me this space to take pains on behalf of a subject I love. Thanks to my advisor, Dr. Scott Dimovitz, for keeping me on track and remaining patient throughout the writing process. Thanks to my reader, Dr. Lara Narcisi, for her thoughtful commentary and supportive enthusiasm. It is because of their gentle guidance that this thesis is now a thing. Thanks to Regis’s Honors Department, which made my learning experience at Regis a blast. Special thanks to Dr. Howe and Dr. Kleier and their assistance navigating the thesis project and helping make an early defense a reality. Thanks to my parents, Lee Ann and John Hufford, who have been unsinkable cheerleaders during my last semester in college, and who are paying the kind compliment of reading my work. It means a lot. Thanks also to my sisters, who are dramatic and funny and offered ample distraction from writing when I needed it and also when I did not. Thanks to my best friend, Elizabeth Sullivan, without whose kindness, humor, and Messenger inbox this thesis would not exist, probably. Thanks, too, to Lucy Liu, who is an inspiration. I do not know her, obviously, but this is my acknowledgements page and gratitude is free. iv INTRODUCTION: THE FRIENDS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES There is a scene in Arthur Conan Doyle’s “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client” where Holmes and Watson go out for dinner and discuss their case. A young woman has fallen in love with a murderer: she knows the facts of his life but will not see him as anything but the victim. Watson asks Holmes, “if the lady will not accept what is already known, why should any fresh discovery of yours turn her from her purpose?” Holmes replies, “Who knows, Watson? Woman’s heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller offence might rankle” (Doyle 519). There is a delicious kind of irony in the fact that as Holmes dismisses women as inscrutable, he unwittingly defines what we know as the murder mystery. Paperback detective novels and television crime dramas build themselves on the premise that detectives can depersonalize murder, observe the facts with a clinical eye and arrive at flawlessly logical conclusions. Murder can always be explained—condoned, even, in the darker stories—because there is an unwavering truth about what happened and why. The murder mystery demands a solution. The thing is, “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client” is not a murder mystery: it’s a heist. The victims and the killer are already bagged and tagged; the remaining problem is the lady’s loyalty to her fiancé. Despite all the facts and figures, the woman 1 remains cold and unmoved, refusing to accept that her life is in danger. But Holmes is a professional: he gets his evidence, convinces the woman, and ends the betrothal. If there was a mystery after all, it was that of “woman’s heart and mind,” and according to Baker Street Journal writer Patrick Morgan, Holmes ends a better detective for it. By “learning that some women can be even more unemotional than he, Holmes is better able to relate to women and to understand them” (31). While Morgan casts this resolution as a net gain for the detective, it seems to me that he overstates the victory. By Morgan’s reading, Holmes is only able to grasp the notion of women as complex individuals when they have surpassed him at his own game of detachment. While this might seem in-character for the old detective, it belies a double standard. Holmes is free to learn about women and change his mind; the young fiancée, meanwhile, carries the curse of her initial mindset. Watson assumes that no “fresh discovery” will sway the lady—though she will change her mind, it is not because she was given the task of learning. That is something the detectives did for her. As the decades have passed, Holmes’ legacy has thrived on fresh discovery. To this day, Holmes uncovers hidden truths and explores the seedy urban underworld, thanks in large part to the external discoveries mediated by print, film, and television adaptation. Each iteration of Arthur Conan Doyle’s short stories vivifies Holmes and his discoveries and expands the library of works carrying his flame. In some ways, this is an entertaining and inspiring development; however, with the recent rash of Holmes screen adaptations, scholars and fans alike have expressed concern that keeping Holmes alive also means reincarnating his sexism. Women remain the illogical background characters, 2 participating by watching the detectives, if not actively obscuring the truth. Certainly, most adaptations have an instinct to give their women characters more development and freedom than Arthur Conan Doyle did, but that kind of gift doesn’t always take, and gets a little messy even when it does. CBS’s Elementary (2012–) features the most recent and most ambitious adaptation of “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client,” but the show made a name for itself with its controversial choice to adapt Dr. Watson as a woman. Note that I say “controversial,” but not “unprecedented.” Though Elementary struck many viewers as unconventional, it is not the first adaptation to feature Holmes living in the modern day, stationed in the United States, or partnered with a female Watson (as in The Return of Sherlock Holmes [1987]). That said, this is, to my knowledge, the first time on television that a male Holmes’ female partner has been the Watson—not a descendent, not a niece, but the one and only Dr. Watson in the flesh. This matters for two reasons. First, because Joan Watson is the only Watson, her reputation within the series stems from her own behavior—there is no ancestral Watson from whom she gains integrity. Joan can be compared alongside other Watson adaptations, but when Elementary contends with her, it’s based on her own merit. Secondly, unlike in adaptations where Holmes and Watson are both women, Holmes’ sexism must be confronted within the bounds of the relationship. Holmes’ gender cannot be glossed over because his character has always depended on it for superiority. Elementary’s freshness comes from its choice to explicitly turn Holmes from his creator’s purpose. This show is not an instance where the same beloved Holmes and 3 Watson are encountered from a new and exciting perspective—not at all. In making Watson a woman, and in making her Holmes’ partner, Elementary makes a fundamental change to the characters and Conan Doyle’s intentions: women’s hearts and minds, after all, can no longer be insoluble puzzles when women are our friends. It makes the show different. For some, it also makes the show unlikeable. Holmes fans met Elementary’s 2012 debut with variations on anticipation and skepticism. I remember first hearing about Elementary on a message board around that time, where initial reactions were negative. My friends bemoaned the fact that Holmes was stubbly and protested Watson’s translation into a woman as homophobic. When someone finally watched it and reported it to be a generic murder mystery show, collective interest in the show evaporated— which was a softer blow than other responses.