Classics Considered

It’s taken me quite a while to reread The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. I soon realized many of the stories (so brilliantly) represented in the Jeremy Brett TV series have become tedious for me to read, whereas the stories which were not adapted retained more of their zest. Though disappointed by this, I latched onto other details and thought I’d share some of those here.

[But first, my favorite snarky Holmes quote I had no memory of: “…I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right.”]

In A Study in Scarlet, Holmes is looking to “go halves” with someone on 221b Baker Street because the lease is too expensive for him. He is 27 years old (by most calculations) and doing his own research at the hospital. By the time we get to “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle”—the seventh story in The Adventures—we have that famous quote: “[the] solution is its own reward.” Holmes repeatedly waves off or defers fees in this collection of short stories. What are we to make of this change in finances?

The most obvious explanation is that through his services to the King of Bohemia and other royalty, Holmes received enough compensation to supplement whatever his existing income was. Through careful saving and frugal living (his most expensive tastes being the occasional violin concert), he is not as strapped for cash as we saw in A Study in Scarlet. This is further evidenced by the fact Watson moving out at the end of The Sign of Four caused no issue with Holmes continuing at 221b.

Holmes is always hungry for problems to solve, so naturally he would take a case pro bono if it means relief from boredom. However, I found myself wondering if there were more to it than that.

The perennial question, of course, is whether Holmes is as detached and calculated as he claims to be, or whether he actually cares about his clients as people. I feel “The Final Problem” answers this question pretty concretely, but that story is not encountered until the end of The Memoirs (which I will be reading in the next week and a half.)

What we do see in The Adventures, which hints at something more than detachment, is Holmes standing in for family members for various clients, in both word and action. In “A Case of Identity” he expresses concern for his client in brotherly terms. He makes a fatherly appeal on behalf of a troubled son in “The Beryl Coronet.” At the end of “The Noble Bachelor,” Holmes shows a surprising kindness and even congeniality towards two of the characters, far beyond what would be expected for his professional services or mere problem solving. He also confronts a deadly adversary in “The Speckled Band” to save his client’s life.

In a more subtle way, we see Holmes’s heart in “The Copper Beeches.” It has long been a favorite story of mine, but this was the first time I was actually moved by it. The lack of employment choices available to women and the downright manipulative behavior of the employment agency are both highlighted here. Holmes does not attempt to stop Violet Hunter from taking a job with an eccentric employer because he knows she has few options. Instead he gives her his whole support and respect, and again takes on a brotherly concern for her. Both Holmes and Watson go to bat for Miss Hunter, facing monsters (human and animal) as loathsome as those in The Hound of the Baskervilles. Violet may not be the romantic interest Watson is secretly hoping for, but she is certainly more than just an atom or unit in the case.

All of this, plus the denouement in “The Empty House,” points to Sherlock Holmes exhibiting a meaningful love for humanity. Through the lives of his clients, Holmes’s stories span the range of Victorian emotion and experience. It would be difficult to read it without seeing his own part in it as well.

Note: The featured image is a nice edit I saved off Tumblr years ago, can’t find the source for it now.