A Case of Identity

           Mydearfellow."saidSherlockHolmesaswesatoneithersideofthefireinhislodgingsatBakerStreet,"lifeisinfinitelystrangerthananythingwhichthemindofmancouldinvent. Wewouldnotdaretoconceivethethingswhicharereallymerecommonplacesofexistence. Ifwecouldflyoutofthatwindowhandinhand,hoveroverthisgreatcity,gentlyremovetheroofs,andpeepinatthequeerthingswhicharegoingon,thestrangecoincidences,theplannings,thecross-purposes,thewonderfulchainsofevents,workingthroughgeneration,andleadingtothemostoutreresults,itwouldmakeallfictionwithitsconventionalitiesandforeseenconclusionsmoststaleandunprofitable." 

           "AndyetIamnotconvincedofit,"Ianswered. "Thecaseswhichcometolightinthepapersare,asarule,baldenough,andvulgarenough. Wehaveinourpolicereportsrealismpushedtoitsextremelimits,andyettheresultis,itmustbeconfessed,neitherfascinatingnorartistic." 

           "Acertainselectionanddiscretionmustbeusedinproducingarealisticeffect,"remarkedHolmes. "Thisiswantinginthepolicereport,wheremorestressislaid,perhaps,upontheplatitudesofthemagistratethanuponthedetails,whichtoanobservercontainthevitalessenceofthewholematter. Dependuponit,thereisnothingsounnaturalasthecommonplace." 

           Ismiledandshookmyhead. "Icanquiteunderstandyourthinkingso."Isaid. "Ofcourse,inyourpositionofunofficialadviserandhelpertoeverybodywhoisabsolutelypuzzled,throughoutthreecontinents,youarebroughtincontactwithallthatisstrangeandbizarre. Buthere"—Ipickedupthemorningpaperfromtheground—"letusputittoapracticaltest. HereisthefirstheadinguponwhichIcome. ‘Ahusband’scrueltytohiswife.’