by Josef Steiff
Sticky Paint
When we look at Sherlock Holmes we often talk about his deductive reasoning skill, which involves using a rule and its precondition to reach a conclusion. For example, “When a wall has been very recently painted, the paint remains sticky for some time. The paint is currently sticky; therefore the wall was recently painted.” As Didierjean and Gobet point out, Holmes also uses abductive reasoning, which involves starting from observed data and then deriving the most likely explanation or hypothesis. Holmes himself explains this methodology to Watson in A Study in Scarlet:
“In solving a problem of this sort, the grand thing is to be able to reason backward. That is a very useful accomplishment, and a very easy one, but people do not practise it much. In the everyday affairs of life it is more useful to reason forward, and so the other comes to be neglected. There are fifty who can reason synthetically for one who can reason analytically.” “I confess,” said I, “that I do not quite follow you.”
“I hardly expected that you would. Let me see if I can make it clearer. Most people, if you describe a train of events to them, will tell you what the result would be. They can put those events together in their minds, and argue from them that something will come to pass. There are few people, however, who, if you told them a result, would be able to evolve from their own inner consciousness what the steps were which led up to that result. This power is what I mean when I talk of reasoning backward, or analytically.”
Some may think of this more as “guessing,” but what it really digs into is the idea of expertise and domain knowledge, which is valid knowledge in a specific area. Holmes can be the master detective because he is able to use both deductive and abductive reasoning in combination with expert knowledge in a wide variety of domains (fields). Holmes, however, is not an expert in everything. Again in A Study in Scarlet, Watson himself created a list of Holmes’s domain knowledge:
Sherlock Holmes–his limits
1. Knowledge of Literature.—Nil.
2. Knowledge of Philosophy.—Nil.
3. Knowledge of Astronomy.—Nil.
4. Knowledge of Politics.—Feeble.
5. Knowledge of Botany.—Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening.
6. Knowledge of Geology.—Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them.
7. Knowledge of Chemistry.—Profound.
8. Knowledge of Anatomy.—Accurate, but unsystematic.
9. Knowledge of Sensational Literature.—Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century.
10. Plays the violin well.
11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman.
12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.
Often, Holmes speaks directly to or infers that he simply sees thing differently than everyone else. Didierjean and Gobet quote a variety of sources in saying “Experts literally ‘see’ situations taken from their domain of expertise differently from novices” and connect back to A.D. de Groot’s 1946 work Thinking in Chess which, while talking about chess expertise, pointed out that “this perceptual advantage is one of the keys to experts’ superior performance.”
The Game Is (and Isn’t) Afoot
Without Holmes’s deep domain knowledge (in key areas) or his capacity for deductive and abductive reasoning, I cannot solve crimes as he does. I just simply can’t.
Video games currently provide the mechanism for simulating a variety of physical and social actions that I cannot perform, but they haven’t yet figured out how to model the vast breadth and depth of knowledge and the intuitive cross-linking necessary for Holmesian crime solving.
Conan Doyle himself in the original works didn’t believe it was necessary for his readers to match wits with Holmes. The Sherlock Holmes stories are not whodunits—we can’t figure it out because we do not have Holmes’s domain knowledge and expertise or his intellect. The stories are about the characters and the chase. We see through Watson’s eyes in part because if we could see through Holmes’s eyes, the matter at hand would be somewhat less dramatic. Holmes himself is often thrilled primarily by his ability to problem solve, and the fact that the problem gets solved is a serendipitous result.
We still want to be Sherlock Holmes, however, and the continuing popularity of video games shows that clearly. As I write this, Frogwares is planning to release The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Testament of Sherlock Holmes. The game promises a new deduction system and improved questioning and interrogation systems, but will it bring us closer to truly being Sherlock Holmes, or will his superior intellect and cunning forever counter our desire to be the Great Detective, even if only virtually?
Chapter 11
The Curious Case of the Controversial Canon
Ivan Wolfe
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote fifty-six short stories and four novels about Sherlock Holmes.
There—that’s all I need to write, clearly. Those texts are the official “canon” and any other texts are apocryphal at best and spurious at worst. It may be fun for other authors to create short stories, novels, comic books, movies, and TV shows about Holmes’s adventures, but they can never be considered official. Only the true tales, written by Doyle himself, can be considered our source for determining the truth about the one true and original Sherlock Holmes.
My edition of The Complete Works contains four novels and fifty-six short stories. I have other books by other authors—a personal favorite is the H.P. Lovecraft/Sherlock Holmes crossover collection Shadows Over Baker Street with Neil Gaiman’s brilliant “A Study in Emerald,” and I also rather enjoy the collection Holmes for the Holidays despite the groan worthy title—but I recognize they aren’t the real Holmes.
But I belabor the point. There can be no doubts about the nature of the canon.
And then I pick up a copy of a French edition of Sherlock Holmes—okay, I haven’t actually picked up a copy; I can read and write Laotian in addition to my native English, and I minored in Classical Greek, but I cannot read French, so in this case, I’m relying on the word of others and hopefully, this won’t get me into too much trouble—and it seems that this French edition contains fifty-eight short stories. And the two additional tales are also written by Doyle.
Wait—what’s going on here? Have I and other English speakers been cheated? What does this say about the supposedly fixed nature of the canon? Why do the French get more Holmes then we do? Is there some secret conspiracy to hide two missing tales from the English-speaking world? Or are the French just easily fooled?
Later, I find there are several other short stories about Holmes written by Doyle and published during his lifetime, and yet they aren’t considered canon. It’s a similar feeling to the one a Protestant sometimes gets when leafing through a Catholic (or Orthodox) Bible and realizing it has a several additional books in the Old Testament—though I guess it depends on which Orthodox Church as well; growing up in Alaska, I became more familiar with the Russian Orthodox; most people, in my experience, are only aware of the Greek Orthodox church due to the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But that’s another topic for another time. Now where was I?
For Those Who Came in Late
I’m tossing around terms like “canon” and “apocrypha” the way Holmes tosses around seemingly insignificant observations that solve cases. Some of my readers are likely already familiar with these terms. Often, I find the people who are most familiar with them are either religious (or at least study religion) or are hardcore Star Trek or Star Wars fans. In a very simplified form, for those unaware of these debates, in Star Trek, anything other than the movies and TV shows—novels, comics, games, and so forth—are apocrypha. In Star Wars, it’s more complicated, but Lucasfilm has people whose job it is to determine which novels, comics, games, or othe
r creations are canon and which aren’t.
For those of you not too familiar with these terms, a brief examination of their definitions will help move the discussion along, and help us decide whether the English or French editions of Sherlock Holmes are the more correct canon (or if both are incomplete).
We shall start, as one always should, with the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). It defines “canon” as “a piece of ordnance; a gun or firearm of a size which requires it to be mounted for firing.” Actually, that is a “cannon”—and “canon” is an archaic spelling for that weapon of war. That is NOT what we are talking about here. So—one “n” for important texts, and two for a weapon of destruction. To help remember the difference, think of having two as overkill, or twice as much power, or something (whatever works for you). Back in the days when spelling was not standardized, this wasn’t a problem—but now, it can cause problems online. Imagine discussing where a particular story fits into the overall chronology of a series—you start arguing about “using the cannon to show them all,” and then the FBI shows up at your doorstep.
The kind of “canon” that we are discussing is
The collection or list of books of the Bible accepted by the Christian Church as genuine and inspired. Also . . . a body of works, etc., considered to be established as the most important or significant in a particular field.
The OED, being as comprehensive as it is, has several other related definitions, but this is the one (actually, a combination of two) most suited to our purpose here.
The OED defines the related term “apocrypha” this way: “Of unknown authorship; not authentic, spurious; uncanonical . . . A writing or statement of doubtful authorship or authenticity.” The term comes from a Greek word meaning “hidden.” For example, “The Apocrypha” (capitalized, thus used as a solid Proper Noun) refers to several books in the Old Testament that were rejected by Protestants, but are still in use (to various extents) by Catholic and Orthodox churches.
By analogy, then, any work called “apocryphal” usually has some claim on being official, but it is only accepted by certain adherents (or, if not accepted by any adherents, a decent percentage of informed adherents have to agree there is “something” to the texts, even if it is not enough to raise the texts to official or binding status). If it has no real claim or no one accepts its authenticity, then it’s merely non-canonical.
Some apocryphal works are rejected by pretty much everyone today but historically have been accepted by various groups. A canonical work is accepted as official and authoritative. There may be disputes about how to interpret the text, but not about whether the text is official or not. Many religions have a “closed canon” meaning that no new authoritative texts are allowed. Some, such as the Latter Day Saints (or Mormon) church have an “open canon” meaning they can accept new texts into their canon (though they don’t accept every possible new text, and getting a new text accepted can be difficult).
Why It Matters
If you belong to a religion and are seeking salvation, then what serves as canon likely matters quite a bit. When we’re discussing Sherlock Holmes, though, it may not seem as important. However, if you are a devotee or a scholar or even a rabid fan, knowing what is and isn’t canon allows for fruitful discussion with other fans, scholars, or devotees. You have to have a common ground of some sort, or else discussion cannot happen. Also, among aficionados of Holmes, there’s a considerable body of literature that discusses how Holmes could have fit into “real” history and even treats his adventures, for the sake of study, as part of history. Many Sherlockian scholars try to fill in the blanks or read between the lines in the stories to determine more about the background of Holmes and Watson. Some even write whole books dedicated to creating elaborate backstories and end of life explorations for Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, Moriarty, and others. However, to be taken seriously by others with similar interests, these texts have to be grounded in something everyone who talks about Holmes considers authoritative. If there is no “shared language” based in commonly accepted texts, the Holmesian conversation would descend into gibberish.
Having a commonly accepted set of texts allows for the community of Holmes buffs to fruitfully communicate with each other, the way a set of scriptures or laws allows a religious or secular community to determine what is acceptable or how to proceed with life. We all have “canons” of some sort, even if we don’t realize it. There are books we consider authoritative and base our lives around, whether they are scripture, self-help, diet, or academic; we also have friends whose advice we trust and consider more important than advice from other people.
An example of how this can play out in a less abstract realm deals with the Guy Ritchie/Robert Downey, Jr. Sherlock Holmes films. In those, Holmes does not wear a deerstalker cap and seems to be something of an action man—even engaging in some bare-knuckle boxing. In the popular imagination, it seems, Holmes is something of an atrophied recluse—a genius, but one who rarely gets his hands dirty. Now, no one would consider the film “canon,” but many defenders of the film pointed to areas in the canon that supported the movie’s interpretation of the world’s greatest sleuth. In particular, many pointed to a passage from The Sign of the Four:
“Oh, yes you do, McMurdo,” cried Sherlock Holmes, genially. “I don’t think you can have forgotten me. Don’t you remember the amateur who fought three rounds with you at Alison’s rooms on the night of your benefit four years back?”
“Not Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” roared the prize-fighter. “God’s truth! how could I have mistook you? If instead o’ standin’ there so quiet you had just stepped up and given me that cross-hit of yours under the jaw, I’d ha’ known you without a question. Ah, you’re one that has wasted your gifts, you have! You might have aimed high, if you had joined the fancy.”
Many also pointed to Holmes’s claim in “The Adventure of the Empty House” that “I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling.” Of course, this is likely a misspelling of “bartitsu” an actual system of martial arts developed in England by Edward William Barton-Wright, who had lived and studied in Japan for several years. But the point has been made. And there are other references to Holmes’s fighting abilities in many of the stories. In these cases, being armed with canon can help win debates and settle issues about how well a particular version of Holmes fits with the original. (Okay, okay, I’m stealing this phrase “armed with canon”—but not its meaning—from the TV Tropes wiki. But, to paraphrase T.S. Eliot: good writers steal, bad writers borrow.)
Back to Baker Street
So, how does this affect the Holmesian canon, and why do the French get two more short stories in their canon? Well, for that, we need to consider the tales that, for the time being, are not considered canonical, but have at least some claim on the status. For the most part, there are pretty clear rules about the canon, but enough fuzziness on the edges to make things difficult when it comes to certain texts.
There are several collections of apocryphal material, and they do not all agree on what is or should be considered canonical or apocryphal. The four I am aware of (all worth getting for any Holmes reader, regardless of your stance on canonicity) are Sherlock Holmes: The Published Apocrypha, edited by Jack Tracy; The Uncollected Sherlock Holmes, edited by Richard Lancelyn Green; The Final Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, edited by Peter Haining; and The Apocrypha of Sherlock Holmes, edited by Leslie S. Klinger.
A few clear criteria for canonicity (with some attendant problem areas) have emerged, though:
● It must be written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This may seem obvious, but Doyle’s son co-wrote a collection called The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes that was intended to be “official” and J.M. Barrie wrote several pastiches for his friend Doyle (which have sometimes been mistakenly identified as written by Doyle). In one instance, Doyle even paid another writer for a story, in case he ever wanted to use the idea. He never did, but the story was mistakenly published as having
been written by Doyle. Also, Doyle collaborated with the actor William Gillette on Sherlock Holmes: A Drama in Four Acts, which went through several revisions, making it difficult to tell how much is Doyle and how much belongs to Gillette.
● It should have been published during Doyle’s lifetime. While there have been some posthumous publications of unpublished plays, story outlines, and the like, the general consensus seems to be that if Doyle didn’t publish it, he didn’t like the tale, couldn’t make it work, or lost interest.
● It must be about Sherlock Holmes (or possibly Watson). The dispute over some apocryphal tales is whether or not they actually are about Holmes. The two found in French editions of the complete works actually never mention Holmes by name—though some have speculated they refer to Watson (or even Mycroft) rather than Holmes. Other scholars and writers have argued for mystery tales written by Doyle that predate Holmes but were clearly proto-Holmes or Holmesian in spirit. There is even a case of a play (The Angels of Darkness) written by Doyle that adapts the American parts of A Study in Scarlet and features Watson (in America!), but not Holmes. This play also falls under #2 above, as Doyle never published this play, likely realizing it did not fit well with the direction his Holmes stories were taking (Watson is wildly out of character, though it was written before Doyle had firmly established Watson’s character).
