her threat in the first place to use the pictures makes little to no sense

In the story we don't know what happened between them. According to the king, she threatened to send the photo on the day his engagement was announced. When she has a voice, she says she kept the photo as protection and describes herself as "cruelly wronged" by the king. So they're calling each other liars and you can decide who to believe... But in the end she says he's a dick but it doesn't matter, and that she's only keeping the photo to protect herself. And he's fine with that. Which is suggestive.

I just don't think Doyle intended readers to believe she was out to ruin men for her own social advantage. There's no hint of blackmail for profit. She's presented as a heroine, not a villain.

If anyone wants support for what Strega and I have been saying,here is a link to the actual story on-line. [link]

It is worth reading the whole thing, but if you don't have time, scroll to the end. Then scroll up a few paragraphs, past the illustration to the note Irene Adler left. And read the three paragraphs past the note. Pretty clear that Adler is, as Strega, says intended to be heroine.

I have read the story. Many times. As I said, the most recent time while eating pizza on Monday. The first time when I was about five.

I have dog-eared copies of all the Holmes stories, plus electronic versions on all my devices. It's a thing. I was *leery* of watching the modern update because of my attachment to the canon.

You don't need to link me to it. I'm still going to have a slightly different interpretation of the text, and think that the truth is halfway between the claims of the king and the claims of Irene.

Most of us who are arguing the other side of the point have, in fact, read the bloody text. I've got into this argument on Tumblr already, where there's this assumption going that if we disagree with people, we haven't read the supporting text. No, we just don't agree with the conclusions. Which is fine. Everyone reads with their own lens. I'm sure my lens is informed by my reading way too much Victorian English cultural history, and my Gram being a kept woman for much of my childhood. (And I maintain that being a mistress with benefits such as it is implied that Irene got, and that I know Gram got, cause I inherited some of it, is still sex work. I'd rather be a pro domme, thank you kindly. I find it more honorable, in its way. Plus, way more personal freedom.)

Things not answered in ACD that I ponder a lot: who clued Irene into the fact that, if the king hired an agent, it would be Sherlock Holmes?

I maintain that being a mistress with benefits such as it is implied that Irene got, and that I know Gram got, cause I inherited some of it, is still sex work

But being a wife with benefits isn't? I don't think it's inherent to the situation, it's about how it's implemented/considered by the people involved.

But being a wife with benefits isn't? I don't think it's inherent to the situation, it's about how it's implemented/considered by the people involved.

No, not really. Well, in my more cynical moments, yes, but there's more job security and if divorce is a rarity, then less of a power imbalance in certain respects. Plus, generally, duties above and beyond giving up the honey.

Plus, generally, duties above and beyond giving up the honey.

I don't know how your grandmother worked it, but is it the being a mistress part that makes you call it sex work, or being unmarried? I have known people falling into both categories who do more than just have sex, so I'm curious about where your lines fall.

I don't know how your grandmother worked it, but is it the being a mistress part that makes you call it sex work, or being unmarried? I have known people falling into both categories who do more than just have sex, so I'm curious about where your lines fall.

I'm not 100% sure where they fall, because I think they may be blurry. Gram's long-term fellow was married, Gram didn't have to support herself while she was with him, he took her travelling, bought her cars and shiny objects. She probably never considered it sex work herself. I, on the other hand, do. She was getting material goods in exchange for companionship.

(This is not to say that the material goods were all she was getting out of it. I just think in terms of why she kept up with the relationship when it became clear she was only ever going to be a kept woman, well, they were a motivating factor.)

(It should also be noted that I don't think there's anything morally wrong about sex work.)

who clued Irene into the fact that, if the king hired an agent, it would be Sherlock Holmes?

While the text doesn't say (I don't think), I have a theory. I think it's reasonable for Irene to assume the king would try to get the picture back, and quite likely outsource the project, since the king probably wasn't free to poke all around London on his own. Also, the King of Bohemia wouldn't necessarily know his way around London to the extent that he could hunt someone down directly.

I tend to assume that Irene tailed the king (or had someone else do so) to 221B Baker St. and asked who the resident was. Holmes was a known detective at the time (within the text, if not yet a famous character throughout the Empire, although two novels had been published before "Scandal"), hence the king hiring him.

This is what the text says:

You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had been told that if the King employed an agent it would certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you, ran upstairs, got into my walking-clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you departed. Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for the Temple to see my husband.