We here at Olivia Waite love a good discussion of tropes almost as much as we love not being sick—but we’re only going to get one of those today, and it’s not the second one.
Lately both Smart Bitches and Dear Author (though I can’t find the exact citation on the latter, sorry) have mentioned the prevalence of redheaded heroines in romance. It’s true the statistical probability of women with red hair is much higher in romance than in the dull and tawdry realm known as “real life”—but then, Romancelandia is also populated with an immoderate number of heroes with Mighty Wangs, so let’s not pretend that a strict adherence to probability is our first and greatest concern.
Someday perhaps I’ll combine those two tropes and write about a well-endowed, redheaded hero, like this handsome dude:
In fact, the high number of redheaded heroines makes total sense if you know where to look.
A very happy early birthday to noted British actor Benedict Cumberbatch, who according to IMDb has been acting his pants off (if only!) but who first came to my attention as Sherlock Holmes in the modernized BBC adaptation. Have you seen this yet? If not, get thee to a Netflix because it is virtually perfect.
As Sherlock, Mr. Cumberbatch is cold, antic, calculating, and often unexpectedly vulnerable. He plays more to the sociopathic side of Holmes’ nature—the side that can’t quite get past seeing human beings as rather curious machines. But all that intellect breaks down every now and again in some very quiet, awkward, charming ways. It’s a delight—and I admit that I am also quite envious of this Sherlock’s long wool coat and anarchic scarf.