From Holmes to Sherlock

The Story of the Men and Women Who Created an Icon

Mattias Boström, Michael Gallagher

• Publisher: Mysterious Press
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9780802127891
• eBook ISBN: 9780802189165
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literary Biographies
• Index: Literature

"If you love Sherlock Holmes, you'll love this book…the best account of Baker Street mania ever written."—Michael Dirda,  The Washington Post
Winner of the Agatha Award for best nonfiction work
Edgar Award finalist for best critical/biographical work
Anthony Award finalist for best critical/nonfiction work
Everyone knows Sherlock Holmes. But what made this fictional character, dreamed up by a small-town English doctor in the 1880s, into such a lasting success, despite the author's own attempt to escape his invention?
In  From Holmes to Sherlock, Swedish author and Baker Street Irregular Mattias Boström recreates the full story behind the legend for the first time. From a young Arthur Conan Doyle sitting in a Scottish lecture hall taking notes on his medical professor's powers of observation to the pair of modern-day fans who brainstormed the idea behind the TV sensation  Sherlock, from the publishing world's first literary agent to the Georgian princess who showed up at the Conan Doyle estate and altered a legacy, the narrative follows the men and women who have created and perpetuated the myth. It includes tales of unexpected fortune, accidental romance, and inheritances gone awry, and tells of the actors, writers, readers, and other players who have transformed Sherlock Holmes from the gentleman amateur of the Victorian era to the odd genius of today.  From Holmes to Sherlock is a singular celebration of the most famous detective in the world—a must for newcomers and experts alike.
"Riveting…[A] wonderfully entertaining history."? The Wall Street Journal
"Celebrates the versatility of one of fiction's most beloved characters…terrific."? The Christian Science Monitor

1

It all started on a train.

That’s where the idea came to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. They were going to modernize one of the world’s most renowned literary characters—remove the filter of a misty London, full of hansom cabs—and bring Sherlock Holmes up to date, placing him squarely in our high-tech, contemporary world. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s creation would go from Victorian gentleman detective to modern, eccentric genius—from Holmes to Sherlock.

This, of course, was sacrilege. Such a television show was bound to be controversial among the fans, as Moffat and Gatiss were aware. Nevertheless, the more they discussed it, the stronger the idea seemed to grow. They wanted to do away with the classic symbols—the deerstalker, the pipe, the magnifying glass—all the nostalgia that was getting in the way, all those things that made Holmes seem more like a well-defined silhouette than a complex human being. The changes would, however, need to be made with great love for the original stories. The pair wanted to bring viewers really close to the original friendship between Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, closer than anyone had brought them since the figures were born in the author’s imagination well over a century before.

This was just a few years after the turn of the millennium, and for the time being their plan was no more than a tiny seed—just a topic of conversation during Gatiss and Moffat’s commute from London to their script-writing jobs at BBC Wales in Cardiff.

But there were lots of train journeys. And the idea kept on growing.

A short time later, on January 7, 2006, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat found themselves at the Sherlock Holmes Society of London’s annual dinner. Gatiss had been invited to speak, and Moffat was there as his guest.

Gatiss had also attended the previous year. He had been invited by a friend, Stephen Fry, a member of the society already in his early teens, who had been guest of honor and after-dinner speaker on that occasion. Gatiss had asked the society’s chairman for an invitation for the 2006 dinner.

So there he was, in his tuxedo and black bow tie, about to make a speech in front of the assembled members—Holmesians, as they called themselves, or Sherlockians, for those who preferred the more widespread American term.

They were seated in a dining room in the House of Commons, a magnificent and thoroughly fitting venue for a Victorian flight of fancy, with its carved oak panels and beautiful evening views across the Thames to the lights of Lambeth on the opposite bank. Slightly to the left was the London Eye, the symbol of modern London and thus of an updated version of Sherlock Holmes, too.

It was an anxious moment. That evening Gatiss and Moffat would float their idea before a broad audience for the first time—and these particular guinea pigs were among the most critical, circumspect subjects you could imagine.

Mark Gatiss was coming to the end of his speech. He had told the members of his long-standing interest in Holmes and had arrived at the train conversation with Moffat.

“We began to discuss the question: could Holmes be brought alive for a whole new generation?” Gatiss said. He described the scenario: “A young army doctor, wounded in Afghanistan, finds himself alone and friendless in London.” That detail about Afghanistan had been crucial for Gatiss and Moffat. The tale of Sherlock Holmes could in fact be introduced in the same way, regardless of whether it was set around 1880 or in the present. Those regions that were ravaged by war in the late nineteenth century remain conflict zones to this day.

“Short of cash,” Gatiss went on, “he bumps into an old medical acquaintance, who tells him he knows of someone looking for a flatmate. This bloke’s all right but a little odd. And so Dr. John Watson—wounded in the taking of Kabul from the Taliban—meets Sherlock Holmes, a geeky, nervous young man rather too fond of drugs, who’s amassed a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge on his laptop.” Gatiss looked out over the assembled Sherlock Holmes enthusiasts. “It’s only a thought. A beginning.”

The Sherlockians were a hardened bunch. Many attempts at recasting Sherlock Holmes had been made through the years. Some had succeeded, others had not. Would Gatiss and Moffat’s idea of bringing Holmes into the present find fertile ground?

“But to prove Holmes immortal,” Gatiss continued, “it’s essential he’s not preserved in Victorian aspic—but allowed to live again!”

The general opinion among those present seemed to be that this was, well, controversial. It was also, nonetheless, intelligent, funny, and stimulating—much like Gatiss himself.

The mood in the dining room was cheerful. Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat no longer had to hold their breath. Stage one was complete.

Every era had its own Sherlock Holmes. For over a century the famous detective had been reimagined to fit contemporary trends and ideals. Perhaps Gatiss and Moffat, with their new approach, would be the ones to ensure that yet another generation discovered Sherlock Holmes.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gatiss concluded, “I give you Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. Watson. Forever.”

Part 1

1878–1887

2

It was a Friday in late autumn 1878. Edinburgh’s Royal Infirmary had moved to new premises at Lauriston Place, surroundings that benefited from significantly cleaner air than the old location toward the center of town. Although the slum clearances around High Street and the steep alleys of the Old Town had been under way for almost a century, mortality was still much higher there than in the more prosperous New Town neighborhood.

With its new Royal Infirmary, Edinburgh was now home to the largest and best-planned hospital in Britain, containing as many as six hundred beds. It was also a place where a new generation of doctors undertook studies in modern, clinically based medicine.

A man hurried down one of the hospital’s corridors, waving a towel enthusiastically. This was a familiar sight to his colleagues and to his students, who always arrived on time for his lectures. He held his head high; his steel-gray hair stood on end; his gait was jerky and energetic; his arms were like two great pendulums.

He went through a small anteroom laboratory and then straight into Ward XI, his operating theater. The terraces of wooden benches that surrounded the amphitheater were packed: the Friday lectures delivered by this thin, gangly man were among the most popular on offer. The flickering gas lamps cast a bluish light; down where the light was strongest, the man sat on a chair and unfurled the towel across his lap. He then got under way.

“This, gentlemen, contains a most potent drug.” He instructed his assistant to pass around a vial filled with an amber-colored liquid. “It is extremely bitter to the taste. Now I wish to see how many of you have developed the powers of observation that God granted you. But sir, you will say, it can be analyzed chemically. Aye, aye, but I want you to taste it—by smell and taste. What! You shrink back? As I don’t ask anything of my students which I wouldn’t do alone, wi’ myself, I will taste it before passing it around.”

His voice was high and discordant, and his lowland Scots was evident in every word. He dipped his finger into the liquid and looked up at the students. The young men on the benches watched as he popped his finger into his mouth, sucked, and grimaced.

“Now you do likewise.”

Student after student tasted the liquid, displaying all manner of facial contortions before passing the bottle along. When it had made its way up to the top row, to its last tormented taster, a hearty laugh came from the floor.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he chortled. “I am deeply grieved to find that not one of you has developed his power of perception, the faculty of observation which I speak so much of, for if you truly had observed me, you would have seen that, while I placed my index finger in the awful brew, it was the middle finger—aye—which somehow found its way into my mouth.”

The man with the towel was Dr. Joseph Bell, forty-one-year-old instructor of clinical surgery. His unorthodox methods were well known at the university. This was not the first cohort to have fallen for his vial trick, designed to give the young men their first great insight into the importance of observation.

Bell wanted to demonstrate that the treatment of illness and injury was largely dependent on thorough, quick understanding of the small details that separated the patient’s condition from one of good health. To wake the students’ interest in this approach, Joseph Bell demonstrated the extent to which a person who has trained his powers of observation can discover relevant, mundane details that will in turn reveal such information as the patient’s history...

Table of contents

• FROM HOLMES TO SHERLOCK
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• FROM HOLMES TO SHERLOCK
• Chapter 1
• PART 1
• PART 2
• PART 3
• PART 4
• PHOTO INSERT
• PART 5
• PART 6
• PART 7
• PART 8
• AUTHOR'S THANKS
• SOURCES
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• INDEX
• BACK COVER