Hound of the Baskervilles

Want to read this along with me? This essay is part of The Hound of the Baskervilles, published in 1902. I used the epub version found on Feedbooks.com.

Watson’s intelligence is displayed inconsistently in this story, and is best summarized by Holmes himself.

“I am bound to say that in all the accounts which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievements you have habitually underrated your own abilities. It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light. Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. I confess, my dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt.”

Watson makes some deductions which turn out to be wrong, and the sarcasm from Holmes above is his reward for such. The scene with the walking stick is similar to the scene with the hat in “The Blue Carbuncle,” but instead of Watson seeing much and admitting he doesn’t see anything, this time he dives right into the bad deductions. He gets better throughout the story, especially when he is left on his own in Baskerville Hall and gathers some good information about the people around him. He even manipulates Frankland in much the same way that Holmes manipulates the goose vender in “Carbuncle.” But despite it all, his contributions toward collecting the data necessary for the case are diminished under Holmes’ deductions derived from that same data.

In fact, one of the most interesting things about the narrative structure of Hound is that Holmes is actually missing for several chapters, leaving Watson fully in the front of the story. Although the novel ends up taking many of Watson’s observations and showing them to be incorrect (which is, to be fair, an important part of the mystery novel structure), this is the story in which I really began to believe that Watson was talented as a detective in his own right. If you break each deduction made in the story down, some of Holmes’ initial deductions are wrong while several of Watson’s are later verified, even though all the ones Watson directly tells Holmes are dismissed. Regardless of his success or failure as a detective, though, he is peerless as a man of action and integrity here; he is brave and loyal throughout the book, not only to Holmes but to Sir Charles Baskerville.

Doyle not only leaves Watson alone for several chapters, but he changes the formula up even more by framing some of the Watson-only chapters as letters and diary entries to give a little more insight into Watson’s own head. We learn that Watson isn’t a deep sleeper,¹ and we can see that he is desperate for Holmes’ approval in his frequent requests for congratulations. We also learn that, while Watson has previously seemed inclined to at least consider supernatural options, he doesn’t see himself as a superstitious man, claiming that “but if I have one quality upon earth it is common sense.” There’s even a nice reference back to the very earliest part of their friendship in A Study in Scarlet:

“I can still remember your complete indifference as to whether the sun moved round the earth or the earth round the sun.”

But unlike Scarlet where Holmes is missing for the last half of the book, in this case Watson’s constant references to how his friend would handle things or making sure that he makes Holmes proud wonderfully manages to keep Holmes in the narrative even when he isn’t present. You never feel like it stops being a story about Holmes, because Watson always references or evokes Holmes. Even the act of framing some chapters as letters to Holmes keeps us grounded in the fact that Holmes is important to these events, and Watson’s tender references to his friend in those letters also reminds us of the special relationship the two men share.

And yet, when they are reunited in chapter twelve, Watson is furious with Holmes for using him. Holmes admits that Watson’s humanity and loyalty are sometimes inconvenient to his work.

“But why keep me in the dark?”

“For you to know could not have helped us and might possibly have led to my discovery. You would have wished to tell me something, or in your kindness you would have brought me out some comfort or other, and so an unnecessary risk would be run…”

This scene in chapter twelve is a great example showing that these two men have a real relationship – they fight, they argue, they insult and deride each other, and yet they care very much for each other, and are loyal to each other.

Hound of the Baskervilles

Want to read this along with me? This essay is part of The Hound of the Baskervilles, published in 1902. I used the epub version found on Feedbooks.com.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is my favorite Holmes novel of the canon. Aside from my particular love of this novel, though, it’s also often the main (or even only) view people have into the canon. It’s frequently required reading in schools, there’s been a ton of films made of it, and it’s one of the most referenced stories in popular culture. The iconic image of Holmes in his deerstalker cap and long coat comes from this story as well (although it’s still only referred to as a “cloth cap” – the deerstalker came from later illustrations of the story). So naturally, there’s a lot to talk about in this novel.

First off, for those of you interested in how I’m reading the stories, previous to this I had been reading all of the books on a nook ereader. Right around the time I got to Hound, I got a Galaxy Tab tablet for Christmas, so I switched to using that for this novel. I’m still using the Feedbooks versions of the books – I just changed devices, which made making notes and researching things a little easier (as I could do it all on one device, instead of having to boot up my laptop and look something up). I think Holmes would have approved.

Speaking of Holmes, this story is generally seen as a classic example of him at the top of his game – great deductions from physical evidence, a few key facts gleaned from inconsistencies from personal statements, and even an example of him using his ability of disguise to progress the case. And yet, he makes mistakes in his deductions; he is still a flawed detective. I’ve noticed that this is common in the longer Holmes stories: the more wordcount devoted to a case (or at least Holmes’ portion of the case), the more mistakes he makes. This isn’t always true, but it is a trend in a variety of Holmes stories, both canonical and pastiche.

One good example of this kind of mistake is in chapter four when he makes a mistake in regards to trying to capture the man in the cab, although he immediately explains to Watson how he should have accomplished it. Doyle causes Holmes to fail for narrative expedience (as the case would have been readily solved if he had captured the man), but he has Holmes immediately detail his mistake so that his powers of quick reasoning are kept intact. For a while in my life, I thought this was pretty clunky and implausible, but over the years there have been a number of times where I’ve done something and then immediately recognized my mistake and how I should have done things differently. Now this scene makes Holmes feel quite human to me – even this masterful genius sometimes kicks himself immediately after making a mistake, just like we do.

We learn a bit more about Holmes’ thought process in chapter three, where he mentions that a “concentrated atmosphere helps a concentration of thought.” We also learn in chapter fifteen why Holmes has such an extensive collection of notes: because “[i]ntense mental concentration has a curious way of blotting out what has passed,” and therefore he is unlikely to keep the facts of one case in his head when he is on another case. (And yet, this brings up the question of why he is able to reference past cases mentally and so frequently. Perhaps certain “details of interest” stay in his memory while the more mundane details get “blotted out?”)

Holmes’ knowledge of art comes up again in Hound on two different occasions. First, Watson chides him in chapter five.

“He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideas…”

In previous stories, Holmes has been portrayed as having either a masterful knowledge of art or no knowledge at all. In this story, both sides seem to be blended a bit, with Watson taking a slightly snobbish attitude toward Holmes’ knowledge. And yet, Holmes fires back at this observation in chapter thirteen, turning the whole continuity concern into a nice character detail of their friendship.

“Watson won’t allow that I know anything of art but that is mere jealousy because our views upon the subject differ.”

We also learn that Holmes is very fastidious, as Watson mentions “… that catlike love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristics….” He also does not laugh very often, although he does so in this story. Watson reaffirms Holmes’ flair for the dramatic, citing it as one of his flaws.

Finally, there is a very touching moment in chapter five where we see Holmes’ concern for Watson.

“I can only wish you better luck in Devonshire. But I’m not easy in my mind about it.”

“About what?”

“About sending you. It’s an ugly business, Watson, an ugly dangerous business, and the more I see of it the less I like it. Yes my dear fellow, you may laugh, but I give you my word that I shall be very glad to have you back safe and sound in Baker Street once more.”

The Final Problem

Want to read this along with me? This essay is part of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, published in 1894. I used the epub version found on Feedbooks.com.

According to this story, Sherlock Holmes “died” on May 3rd, 1891. Doyle wanted to stop writing the series because he felt that it was distracting him from his more serious writing, and he needed to be able to focus on his career outside of Sherlock Holmes. As I mentioned in the previous essay, he set up Moriarty as a villain worthy of his skill so that Holmes’ death would be meaningful and provide some sense of closure. However, the public did not react so well to the story. The Strand‘s subscription numbers dropped by 200,000, and thousands of people wore black armbands in mourning. The public was furious, and the outcry was enormous. To give you a sense of this, imagine what would happen if J. K. Rowling suddenly killed Harry Potter off halfway through the series.¹ But here we can see more of Doyle’s frustrations with writing the series:

“In an incoherent and, as I deeply feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have endeavoured to give some account of my strange experiences in his company….”

Let’s look at the date of Holmes’ fall again and work it into our understanding of the continuity so far. 1891 means that Watson has been married for three or four years by the time Holmes passes. There is mention of the cooling of their friendship by 1890, but many of the post-marriage cases appear to take place relatively soon after Watson ties the knot, so that actually fits quite well together. However, since we know that they two met sometime in the early 1880s, this means they were friends for less than a decade before Holmes “dies.” It’s quite a long time, but considering Holmes claims over a thousand cases that he’s been involved with by this point, it’s clearly been a very full ten years. To some readers it feels like it’s just not enough time, which is why I think many Sherlockians push the meeting of Holmes and Watson as far back as they can, to give them more time to account for all of these adventures.

It’s nice to note that Doyle has gone back to his original technique of trying to provide groundwork in reality for his stories. Watson mentions a few news articles and a specific letter as if they were well-known items of the day, even though they didn’t exist at all. It’s something he did a lot of in his earlier stories, and it’s telling to compare stories like A Study in Scarlet, where this happened quite a bit, with many of the stories in Memoirs which usually only reference other canonical stories and apocryphal cases (although this story does plenty of that, especially to quickly build up Moriarty’s reputation as a master criminal). But both tactics create the impression of a larger world, something that exists outside of the stories we read. Regardless of whether he’s attempting to tie events to the real world of his readers or to the shared knowledge of his fictional stories, the point remains that each story feels like it exists in a space larger than itself. Nowadays, such continuity-building is common and even expected, but it really was quite a radical thing at the time, and even here in this supposedly final Holmes story, we see Doyle working to provide a broader context for his characters.

There are a few interesting touches on the previous stories scattered throughout. We again hear of Mycroft, quite soon after his initial appearance in “The Greek Interpreter,” although he is acting in ways that seem like he is not nearly as lazy as Holmes led Watson to believe. Holmes dons another clever disguise, and shows his mastery of languages by speaking fluent Italian. Watson uses his friend’s own methods of deduction to piece together Holmes’ demise – a clever and touching tribute to Holmes that his friend finally mastered enough of his methods to help solve his murder (although we don’t learn how much he gets right until Holmes’ return in “The Empty House”). On the other hand, we learn that the famous rooms at Baker Street are set on fire, a touch that clearly communicates to the audience just how high the stakes are for Holmes and Watson.²

We see a lot more of Holmes’ tender feelings for Watson in this story. Although Holmes seems to be strangely invigorated and in light spirits while Moriarty is trying to kill him, he’s very serious when it comes to putting Watson in the same danger. Twice Holmes tries to dissuade Watson for helping him, but not because Holmes doesn’t desire his friend’s company, but rather because he is afraid that Watson will get hurt or killed by Moriarty’s plans. Even when he confronts Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls, Holmes asks for (and gets) time to write Watson and say some final words – although Holmes believes he is going to die, he still shows a final kindness to his one and only friend.

And thus concludes the first half of the Holmes canon, and the last story written in the 19th century. This is one of my favorite stories, as well as one of Doyle’s. It has a well-deserved reputation as a pivotal story in the canon, and is certainly one of the ten best Holmes stories ever.