Personally, I've thought for a long time that Holmes had prepared for his confrontation with Moriarty to be his last case -- not in a "now I shall change my profession" type of way, but in a "I'm ready to die" way. Holmes was most likely (and reasonably) expecting a much more comprehensive final encounter with Moriarty. Frankly, the professor's actions were fairly strange -- meet for a fight to the death with a much younger, fitter man alone on the side of a waterfall with no weapon? I have no theories on why Moriarty of all people would want to commit suicide, but I have plenty on why Holmes would (without even including slash reasons).
So, I completely understand the impulse to run away... if it is framed in that manner. Perhaps I am making Watson's persistent mistake in expecting too much from Holmes, but the way he speaks about his decision simply did not convince me that his life had been pressing on him so hard... and that's really what I had been expecting to read. He says, "When I set off for my meeting with Moriarty, I anticipated that our final confrontation might well cost my life" and I thought he might hint at the idea that he had been not only expecting to follow, but indeed hoping to. But he doesn't. He says that he had "grown weary of the game" and that "the thought of returning to the choking fogs and humdrum crime of London was suddenly intolerable". I submit that for his actions, the thought of returning should have been more than wearying and "suddenly intolerable", but something truly soul-crushing, terrifying even. (Of course, this is one of the many wonderful instances in the Canon where slash makes certain things infinitely more reasonable. If you've read Kdorian's "Lies" you know what I mean).
Even accepting the above arguments, Holmes' behaviour towards Watson was unacceptable. The mature, thoughtful, 63-year-old Holmes of the Russell books would certainly see that, I think... and thus the real reason for my inablility to comprehend this little sequence. Why no remorse? Why no thought for how deeply he must have hurt his friend? The only indication is that slight hesitation during his little speech when he mentions Watson weeping. A younger Holmes, the one who silently watched Watson from that cliffside, might have said as little as that, but this Holmes? Even the 33-year-old Holmes offered Watson "a thousand apologies".
Well, we all know that Holmes is not really a cold man, but a passionate one who often is not able (because of a concerted effort on his part, I believe) to express himself in the ways that many others would find normal (for instance, audibly). But, like Watson wrote in The Empty House, "his sympathy was shown in his manner rather than his words." Ah well. At this point, I'm fairly certain this all stems from King's inability to appreciate Watson, which is really too bad; if she'd let herself then I think her stories would be the richer for it (and we would have a lot more finely written Watson in the world -- always a good thing).
Maybe we should strap her to a Clockwork Orange-like contraption and make her watch Edward Hardwicke
So, I completely understand the impulse to run away... if it is framed in that manner. Perhaps I am making Watson's persistent mistake in expecting too much from Holmes, but the way he speaks about his decision simply did not convince me that his life had been pressing on him so hard... and that's really what I had been expecting to read. He says, "When I set off for my meeting with Moriarty, I anticipated that our final confrontation might well cost my life" and I thought he might hint at the idea that he had been not only expecting to follow, but indeed hoping to. But he doesn't. He says that he had "grown weary of the game" and that "the thought of returning to the choking fogs and humdrum crime of London was suddenly intolerable". I submit that for his actions, the thought of returning should have been more than wearying and "suddenly intolerable", but something truly soul-crushing, terrifying even. (Of course, this is one of the many wonderful instances in the Canon where slash makes certain things infinitely more reasonable. If you've read Kdorian's "Lies" you know what I mean).
Even accepting the above arguments, Holmes' behaviour towards Watson was unacceptable. The mature, thoughtful, 63-year-old Holmes of the Russell books would certainly see that, I think... and thus the real reason for my inablility to comprehend this little sequence. Why no remorse? Why no thought for how deeply he must have hurt his friend? The only indication is that slight hesitation during his little speech when he mentions Watson weeping. A younger Holmes, the one who silently watched Watson from that cliffside, might have said as little as that, but this Holmes? Even the 33-year-old Holmes offered Watson "a thousand apologies".
Well, we all know that Holmes is not really a cold man, but a passionate one who often is not able (because of a concerted effort on his part, I believe) to express himself in the ways that many others would find normal (for instance, audibly). But, like Watson wrote in The Empty House, "his sympathy was shown in his manner rather than his words." Ah well. At this point, I'm fairly certain this all stems from King's inability to appreciate Watson, which is really too bad; if she'd let herself then I think her stories would be the richer for it (and we would have a lot more finely written Watson in the world -- always a good thing).