Mary wears a very visble brooch from the end of HLV (the tarmac scene) until the end of TAB (the “modern scenes”). I’ve always wondered what was behind it but I took the longest time to identify the flowers represented on the brooch.
I won’t claim to be a specialist in flowers, so I took long time and careful research on this meta. However, if anyone with better knowledge see something else, please let me know right away! :)
It turns out Mary’s brooch tells us a lot about Mary’s personality and fate. It is also tied to a very deep gay subtext, and I cannot believe for one second that it’s not an intentional choice.
Basically, the brooch predicts Mary’s end & Johnlock, and it associates the show with masterpieces of homoerotic love stories => BBC Sherlock is about Johnlock and delivers a powerful message to the LGBTQ community. =)
Mayhaps, my dear Red Kangs, mayhaps your parents thought they were being very clever by trapping him in his own building so he wouldn’t finish it. But if they did such a thing, it was very foolish. Because no matter how deep they buried him in Paradise Towers, he’s bound to get out in the end.
This ancient city is made of stone and stone walls that have not fallen yet. Like paradise it is bounded by rivers, and contains fabulous beasts. Most of them have heads. If you drink from the wells, and there are many, you might live forever, but there is no guarantee you will live forever as you are. You might mutate. The waters might not agree with you. They don’t tell you this. I came to this city to escape. This city is full of towers to climb and climb, and to climb faster and faster, marvelling at the design and dreaming of the view from the top. At the top there is a keen wind and everything is so far away it’s impossible to say what is what. There is no one to discuss it with. Cats can count on the fire brigade, and Rapunzel was lucky with her hair. Wouldn’t it be nice to sit on the ground again? I came to this city to escape.
If the demons lie within they travel with you.
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson.