Ten Years Later
Wow, I can't believe it's been almost ten years since I've posted here.
Like many people, I became extremely disillusioned with Sherlock after the train wreck that was "The Final Problem." Writing meta, which had been my niche in this fandom, just seemed like a complete waste of time. How can I take this show and the characters seriously anymore when the writers themselves don't seem to, when they seem to be going out of their way not just to destroy their own story but to mock the fandom's love for it in the process. (This excellent meta here expresses pretty well how futile it seemed at the time.)
That's how it felt at the time, and it hurt too much to engage with the show anymore. Not to mention, I felt like the fandom itself changed once TJLC became the dominant discourse, whether you were for it or against it (and I actually supported it). Most of the meta I saw was now all about subtext and convoluted plot points, which although I found interesting and even persuasive, was not the kind of thing I enjoyed writing. The show became more like a puzzle rather than the character-driven story it had seemed to be in S1 and S2, which in my present opinion led to its ultimate downfall. Since my metas are focused character analysis, I felt like I didn't have much to contribute even in S3, let alone after S4.
But...somehow I've been called back here, and I realize that I still have things to say: about what I still love about this show (which has never changed) and where I felt like it went wrong; the wonderful experience I had in this fandom in the post-Reichenbach era (between S2 and S3), and how that changed; maybe even about the characters themselves, especially John Watson, and why I think his characterization in S3 was a mistake (which then led to the mess in S4, which I've literally deleted from my mind so probably won't actually comment on). More than that though, I feel like I have something deeper to say, about how my love for this show and my participation in this fandom transformed me; about how Sherlock is a tragedy that taught me something crucial about love, life, and art; about how the connection between Sherlock and John in S1/S2, which drew so many of us to the show in the first place, is still something beautiful, no matter what happened later.
I don't know if anyone is still reading this. I don't know if anyone is still left who remembers those wonderful early days. I don't even know if this is the right place to post these things anymore, or when I'm going to actually write them.
But I do know that I need to, so that I can work through my own still unresolved feelings about this show, because the love I still have for the version of Sherlock and John that inspired me to live more heroically, for the fandom of that era and all of our vulnerable discussions about love and friendship, for all the thoughtful meta and heartfelt fanfiction we crafted - that was all real, and it deserves to be remembered. It deserves a resolution beyond disillusioned abandonment, a recognition beyond nostalgic disappointment.
If there's anyone still here who also feels what I'm saying, please do let me know. I will write these things no matter what, but it's always encouraging to know that someone else relates.
