In 1974, when Nicholas Meyer published The 7-Per-Cent Solution, I realized that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories weren’t necessarily over and done with, even though Conan Doyle had long since left the scene. Indeed, I learned around the same time that Conan Doyle himself had already killed off his great detective and then, facing public pressure, had brought him back. This isn’t “fan service” as the term is usually used, but I can see now that Conan Doyle recognized, long before that concept came into being, what serving the fandom might call for. In fact, he contributed to shaping the modern phenomenon of recursive fiction.
I can also see that when Conan Doyle wrote “The Final Problem,” in which he attempted to get rid of his detective, he recognized the dramatic value of raising the stakes of the story. In it, Holmes faces off (literally, in a couple of scenes) against no mundane miscreant but an archvillain named Professor Moriarty, who heads a vast criminal enterprise. As is often the case when saving the world is concerned, this story has almost no bearing on more down-to-earth human matters, apart from the ongoing friendship between Holmes and Dr. Watson, but the earlier stories here fill in that area nicely. There’s an affair of the wayward heart, involving the King of Bohemia and a famed “adventuress” named Irene Adler, who is, I’m inclined to think, Holmes’s most agile adversary. (This may be my favorite of all of Holmes’s cases.) There’s an eerie and outlandish tale involving red-headed men; there’s a tale of inheritance and family nastiness and a remote, run-down country house; there’s another eerie and outlandish tale, involving a hydraulic engineer. Wrapping everything up and bringing Holmes back from what had seemed to be his end, there’s a locked-room mystery.
The world, in these stories, can appear to be a disordered place, strange or threatening, and decidedly out of joint, and yet it proves to be orderly, intelligible, and usually susceptible to being set right, as long as the proper persons and the proper methods are brought to bear. That’s a comfortable, pleasurable, and encouraging point of view. One can debate whether the world is really like this, just as one can debate whether the world really sits on top of a stack of turtles, but if a reminder that it could be the case will get you somewhere, plunge in. It works for me.