@Number 71

Posts Tagged ‘the three students

It was in the year ’95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great university towns, and it was during this time that the small but instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us.

"He had burst into a storm of passionate sobbing."

"He had burst into a storm of passionate sobbing."

The Three Students is a very minor mystery, perfunctory and under-written. The Return is a strong collection early on, but this is the latest in a series of stories which send it into something of a nosedive in quality. Still, Watson’s introduction of the story is not without its accuracy: he admits the story is small, but he’s not misleading us to say it contains some instructive moments. Most memorable is Holmes’s examination of the “crime” scene, and the deductions he arrives at from some pencil shavings. It’s silly stuff, but not without its charms.

Holmes seems aware of how trifling the matter is, offering a run of tart quips in the way he does when he needs only engage half his brain. When his client admits he has been lost by Holmes’s reasonings, he turns to his old friend and says, “Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others.” There’s a little relish in teaching the academics here: “Soames will be in a dreadful fidget,” Holmes says, perhaps rolling his eyes, about the nervous tutor who has engaged his services.

The mystery deserves this flippancy: essentially, it is the tale of a cheating student and a careless tutor who’s dismayed by the consequences of going to tea when he should be at work (a common enough event in the halls of our universities). And yet the story is very coy: “it will be obvious,” Watson remarks in his preamble, “that any details which would help the ready exactly to identify the college or criminal would be injudicious and offensive.” Heaven forfend, after all, that aspersions be cast at Oxbridge! “When once the law is invoked,” Soames insists, explaining his need for Holmes over a police detective, “it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal.” Watson has treated royal families with less circumspection.

Of course, Conan Doyle always drags out the anonymity clause when he needs an excuse for being a bit lazy, and this story is marred, too, by his increasing habit of eschewing action and letting dialogue refer to it. Holmes orders people to and fro, and the quote marks are never closed – this makes for a tiresome, bloodless read. It would be nice to suppose that the college in question was Holmes’s, and that everyone’s delicacy stems from this fact (and certainly The Three Students offers Sherlockians a number of such puzzles – why were Holmes and Watson in the university town to begin with, for instance?); but in the dialogue-heavy, detail-light narration of the tale, we see the real reason for the nods and winks. Even the story’s ending is limp, finishing off with a whimper a mustery which no one’s heart was really in from the off.


71 is the number of an apartment we return to regularly in Whinfell Forest, Cumbria. We like it there.


‘We’ are Anna French and Dan Hartland. The Story and the Truth is a sort of inadequate catch-all term for what goes on here: we tend to talk about novels, history, food and fashion, politics and music, but there may also be photographs of soft toys and musicians. Stick around and see.

Words We Like

The Blind Man's Garden, by Nadeem Aslam


Aslam's fourth novel is that rarest of things, a focused picaresque. It has been criticised by the formidable Adam Mars-Jones for a failure of courage - and yet having read the novel cover to cover and word for word, I found myself more in agreement with the praise of Pankaj Mishra. In this story of two young men who travel, naively, to Afghanistan in the October of 2001, it is the very ambivalence of the resulting consequences which render its portrayal of history at the sharp end so memorable. We are used to hearing, from one side or another, the verities of black and white. In The Blind Man's Garden, Aslam paints in technicolour shades of grey. Essential.

Sounds We Like

The Stand-In, by Caitlin Rose


The ever-present temptation to be cooler-than-thou might have demanded I list Lord Huron or Keaton Henson in this space, and yet few records I've been listening to this month have had the sheer charisma of Caitlin Rose's third LP. There's a cleverness - even a slickness - to how Rose balances the cache of retro country with the accessibility of the modern pop sound here, and, if that sounds like a demerit, then the way in which this sly production always works in support of often fabulous songwriting is certainly not. They do make 'em like they used to, after all.

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