To Be, or 221B: That is the Question

Imagine, for a moment, this curious scene: two men stand facing each other on an empty stage, both clad in somber black, but contrasting in every other way. One, garbed in medieval doublet, hose, cloak, and rapier, gazes intently at his adversary with a composed and reflective countenance. The other, wearing a three-piece suit, trench coat, pocket-watch, and deerstalker cap glares acutely back, the sharp outline of his prominent brow and aquiline nose silhouetted against the wall. The first seems to have stepped right out of a Shakespearean play and the second appears to hail from Victorian London, yet here they both stand, with unabashed disregard for the confines of time. The former is, indeed, Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, and the latter is none other than the British detective, Sherlock Holmes, and they prepare to engage in a debate upon the nature of man. Before the stage sits a panel of judges: a Mr. Gilbert Chesterton, a certain H. G. Wells, and a little parish priest by the name of Brown. Mr. Wells gives the signal, and the debate commences.

Holmes takes the lead: “What is man?” he asks. “What is man? What sets our race apart from all the rest of the universe; what, I ask, is the essential quality that makes a human being distinct among all the plethora of earthly beasts, birds, and organisms? I will tell you in a word: brains. This, truly, is the defining characteristic of our species — the ability to reason. What else is at variance between us and the other animals? Both we and they eat, drink, sleep, wake, walk, run, communicate, mate, and die in a series of endless existence. It is this cycle of life, birth and death in which we all participate, yet it is the process of reason in which man alone takes part. What, in life, has any worth if not the exercise of the mind? Keenness in observation, cogency in judgment, and accuracy in conclusions are what comprise the science of deduction which I hold supreme above all other things. What are the petty conundrums of the common man’s daily routine in comparison with the intricacies of thought and the subtleties of the mind? They are but mundane nothings —  nay, what really matters is reason, for reason is what makes us who we are. To think is to be.”

After an interlude of courteous remarks and formalities, the young Hamlet takes center stage and initiates his side of the debate: “My fellow Holmes has provided me with what is, indeed, the very phrase that sums up the whole of my philosophy: “to be.” And yet, my own understanding of the significance of these two words differs greatly from that of my worthy opponent. It is true that the endowment of reason elevates man from the status of being a mere animal to that of a dignified creature, yet reason extracted from the context of truth proves to engender as many contradictions as irrationality itself. What is man, my opponent asks? The answer can be seen in a handful of dust. And when death comes, that which allows man to live beyond the grave is not reason for reason’s sake but reason in the service of truth, for truth is a thing which transcends time, space, and even death itself. No human will, whether through law or passion, can alter this truth which is the meaning behind existence. How pathetically wretched and cramped a man’s world becomes when he attempts to create his own truth! Emptiness and despair are the progeny of such a relativistic mind. It is the acknowledgment that there is something beyond man — something greater, something more beautiful, something eternal — that inspires virtue; it is the sense of absolute truth that motivates courage, justice, sacrifice, and all that is good in our hearts. To believe in nothing beyond reason appeals to one who craves self-sufficiency, supremacy — perhaps even immortality. Yet this is a fallacy which leads only to a blind and frenzied leaping forward into the dark. It is in the present moment, through acts of selfless love and humility, that truth is glorified and meaning given to life. This, truly, is what it means to be: to live in service of goodness, truth, and beauty, for these things endure beyond man and his mortality, and in the deepest sense of their definitions, are the fulfillment of all man’s desires.”

The debate having concluded, Hamlet is selected as victor in a vote of two to one. As the various men disperse — Holmes back to Baker Street and Chesterton, Wells, and the laurel-wreathed Dane to the local Fox and Coney Inn — the little priest stands outside the debate hall gazing at the stars. “To be, or not to be,” he mutters to himself. “That is indeed the question.”