Round the Red Lamp
[Being an extract from a long and animated correspondence with a friend in America.]
I quite recognise the force of your objection that an invalid or a woman in weak health
would get no good from stories which attempt to treat some features of medical life with
a certain amount of realism. If you deal with this life at all, however, and if you are
anxious to make your doctors something more than marionettes, it is quite essential that
you should paint the darker side, since it is that which is principally presented to the
surgeon or physician. He sees many beautiful things, it is true, fortitude and heroism, love
and self-sacrifice; but they are all called forth (as our nobler qualities are always called
forth) by bitter sorrow and trial. One cannot write of medical life and be merry over it.
Then why write of it, you may ask? If a subject is painful why treat it at all? I answer that
it is the province of fiction to treat painful things as well as cheerful ones. The story
which wiles away a weary hour fulfils an obviously good purpose, but not more so, I
hold, than that which helps to emphasise the graver side of life. A tale which may startle
the reader out of his usual grooves of thought, and shocks him into seriousness, plays the
part of the alterative and tonic in medicine, bitter to the taste but bracing in the result.
There are a few stories in this little collection which might have such an effect, and I have
so far shared in your feeling that I have reserved them from serial publication. In book-
form the reader can see that they are medical stories, and can, if he or she be so minded,
Yours very truly,
A. CONAN DOYLE.
P. S.--You ask about the Red Lamp. It is the usual sign of the general practitioner in