No *&(t Sherlock: modern detection, and Arthur Conan Doyle

So, OK I'm a little obsessive, and I've already written about Sherlock.  But, how much do you know about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, his creator? Would you believe that Doyle believed in spiritualism (and faeries)? No, seriously.

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Alright, here are some of Doyle's basics:

His middle name was Ignatius.

Yeah, I know, right?

Born in May, 1859;  died in July, 1930.

As a young man, he was educated by the Jesuits.  Seven years, no less! In 1868, Doyle entered into medical school in Edinburgh.  He ultimately earned a bachelor's degree in medicine, as well as a Master of Surgery.

One of the more important intellectual influences on Doyle, was his instructor, Dr. Joseph Bell--who was noted for the accuracy of his diagnostic skills (i.e. his mastery of deductive reasoning).  Ole Joe was so good in this particular ability, that he provided the main inspiration for Doyle's literary creation, Sherlock Holmes.

It was 1887, and our boy Conan was in his late twenties.  Pretty impressive, yes? Sherlock made his first appearance in the short story "A Study in Scarlet."  This is where Watson and Holmes meet, both searching for digs in London.  The plot consists of a murder (I know, 'duh' right?) and a woman's gold wedding ring.  It also introduces many of the series' recurring characters, such as Inspector Lestrade, and the Baker Street Irregulars.

The story hit a chord with the late Victorians, and by the time of Doyle's death, Sherlock and Watson had become two of the most popular characters in English literature.  Quite the accomplishment, right?  I wish I could tell you, that Holmes' was a direct reflection of his creator, but I can't do that.  Doyle was a strange combination of rationality and whimsy.  He believed in logic;  he believed in ghosts.  He believed in the tangible;  the verifiable, and yet also entertained the possibility of faeries.  No kidding:  pixies!

The "Cottingley Faeries"--people actually believed this for about a minute at the turn of the century. I mean, seeing is believing, right? 

Of course that's a gnome! I mean, it's a photo, right? The proof is in the pudding.

As an advocate for spiritualism, Doyle would have absolutely believed in the veracity of images like this one.  Yeah, that's Mary Lincoln, posing with her husband's "ghost."  

I know, right? It's ironic that the creator of the ultimate logician (Holmes) would entertain the possibility of phantoms and faeries,  but he did.  But, perhaps that's one of the reasons why Sherlock has continued to capture the modern Western imagination:  I think it was the combination of magic, science, and modernity.

Doyle's detective quickly became so beloved by his readers, that he felt imprisoned by the clamor for more stories about Holmes and Dr. Watson.  Sh*t, he even tried to kill off Holmes at the Reichenbach Falls, where he met his nemesis Professor Moriarty in an epic showdown.  It didn't work:  Doyle's public was so continuously and vociferously outraged, that he brought his anti-hero back from the 'dead' in "The Empty House."

Conan Doyle wrote other works of fiction and nonfiction.  His fictional series on fourteenth century derring-do, The White Companion and Sir Nigel was moderately popular.  Doyle also wrote about the Boer War, and WW1.  Additionally, he penned anti-imperialist works about Belgian crimes committed in the Congo (The Crime of the Congo).

He also involved himself in a couple of actual criminal cases, involving George Edalji and Oscar Slater.  OK.  Who?

George Edalji:  a solicitor in England, who was sentenced to several years' hard labor for injuring a neighbor's pony.  The charges also blamed Edalji for writing poison pen letters, which were then connected to a series of other animal mutilations in the vicinity.  In the aftermath of a questionable guilty verdict, Arthur Conan Doyle became involved with the case, hoping to exonerate the hapless solicitor.  He eventually 'detected' that Edalji was probably not responsible for either the letters, or the mutilations, instead putting the blame on a local named Royden Sharp.  Doyle then actively worked for Edalji's pardon.

And, Oscar Slater? Well, this case was both tragic and weird.  It involved the theft and brutal murder of an elderly Scottish matron, Marion Gilchrist, aged 83.  Her badly beaten body was discovered by her maid, Helen Lambie, who'd been gone on an errand for less than 10 minutes.  Gilchrist was rumored to own jewelry valued in excess of 3,000 pounds (think approximately 330,000 today), but only one brooch was taken, along with some random personal papers.  OK, can we just for a moment recognize the horrific nature of this crime? F*&k me. Sometimes I get so personally disgusted/offended by such random acts of cruelty.  One of Gilchrist's neighbors was a man named Oscar Slater--a local bookie. Slater, who'd left Glasgow for America less than 5 days after the murder, was already under suspicion by local police, for trying to sell a pawn ticket for a diamond brooch.

As it turned out, this brooch was not the one stolen from Gilchrist, yet the police still applied for his extradition.  Slater voluntarily returned to Scotland in order to clear his name.  He was arrested and eventually tried for murder, and convicted on spurious evidence by a verdict of nine (guilty) to six (not guilty).  He was sentenced to death.  Slater's lawyers didn't give up on their client, though, and organized a petition for his innocence ultimately signed by more than 20,000 people, of which Conan Doyle was one.  In response, Lord Pentland (Secretary of State), commuted his sentence to life imprisonment.  All of this, because the poor son of a bitch tried to sell a pawn ticket for a brooch that did not belong to the victim.  What a lovely 'fair' and 'balanced' application of justice, right? 

Poor kitty!

Slater spent 19 years in prison--hard labor no less.  However, his conviction was not overturned until 1928--on the grounds that the judge in Slater's original proceeding failed to properly instruct the jury about the dangers of here-say evidence.

Slater's lawyers eventually contacted Conan Doyle for his opinion on the case.  While the author did not like Slater's lifestyle, Doyle concluded that he should not have been convicted on spurious evidence.  In 1912, he published The Case of Oscar Slater, wherein he re-examined evidence presented at the trial, going over the prosecutor's case point by point--even pointing out that Slater had traveled to the U.S. under an assumed name, because he was accompanied by his mistress--therefore it was likely that he was evading his wife, and not the police.  Doyle additionally theorized the unfortunate old woman had likely opened the door to the killer, perhaps suggesting that she knew them.  Ultimately, Doyle was satisfied that he'd proven Slater's innocence.  Other evidence surfaced by 1914, causing many in the city to call for a re-trial.

The circus went on for another ten-plus years.  The break in the case happened when it was reviewed in a book called The Truth about Oscar Slater, by William Park, a Glasgow journalist.  Park believed that Gilchrist had known her killer, arguing with this person over some document she possessed.  A struggle ensued, during which she'd likely banged her head, probably losing consciousness.  Park surmised that the killer most likely feared his identification, should she awake, so he made sure that he killed her before leaving.  But, who? Park ultimately suspected Gilchrist's nephew, but fierce libel laws, stopped him from naming this man in his book.  However, after its' publication, Park's 'killer' was pretty obvious.  

Ultimately, Slater would be released, but his record was not yet cleared.  It was not for a few years after gaining his freedom, that the original case was retried in court.  Conan Doyle gave more than 1,000 pounds towards his legal fees.  Slater was found innocent of the murder, the second-time-around.  It should be noted, that he never did reimburse Doyle, or any of the others, who'd financially aided in his defense.  Doyle was reputedly pretty pissed off about this. 

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Now, I'm telling you about these two cases, because they're both indications that Sherlock's creator wrote (in a way) from his own experience.  Is this why we're still fascinated by the detective? I cannot answer this question.  Is it ever truly possible to chart the reasons why some people or characters become iconic? I mean, why do we remember Marilyn Monroe, and not Jane Russell;  Tom Hanks rather than Jude Law? Again, no logic.  

But, today my 91 year old and I spent the entire day (well, almost) watching Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman (yeah, I know, I know:  Smaug and Bilbo) in the latest version of Doyle's dynamic duo.  I have to say that we had a really good day, but why is a 100+ year old fictional detective still relevant, even iconic? I have no answers for you, but the character still resonates with me, as well as my mother (I should also include my daughter in this list, but then I basically forced her to watch the show).  If we find him entertaining, then so must others, who aren't British.  The power of a story is in how many times it's retold, yes?

I mean, just look at this:

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Come on! Will Ferrell as Sherlock Holmes? Ye Gads, perhaps I should just move to Mt. Olympus.  After all, in a world where Ferrell can star as the great detective, then I'm a God.

One of the things you might not know about Arthur Conan Doyle, is his friendship in the 1920s, with fellow mystery writer, Agatha Christie.  For a few years there, the two shared an interesting correspondence, and friendship.  I rather like this aspect of Doyle's life, because it highlights a similarity between the two authors, for me, anyway.  I've always thought that the work of both writers were best digested in filmic form.  It's not that I'm denigrating their books, but I think (just my opinion folks, that's all) that Marple, Poirot, and Holmes, are most fully realized as figures on the screen--either large or small.

David Suchet, as Hercule Poirot, which is far closer to Christie's character than, say, this:

awwww, but I LIKED Branaugh's interpretation!!

I think that Agatha was able to experience just how popular and influential her detectives would become, but I don't think Doyle ever did.  I wonder what he would say, if he could look at the evolution of his great detective over the past hundred years.  I think that he would've liked this latest interpretation, by Freeman, Cumberbatch, and Gatiss.  I really do.

Well, until next time, Dear Reader...'the game's afoot!'

You might also be interested in this documentary:

How Sherlock Changed the World.
https://watch.amazon.com/detail?gti=amzn1.dv.gti.e6a9f72f-4cc3-2bd2-bcba-af4f920db37e&territory=US&ref_=share_ios_season&r=web