Doyle solidifies an icon in ‘Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ (1892)

“The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” (1892) is simultaneously a timelessly great read – with deliberate yet steadily moving prose that flows like honey today – and a peek into the times for the characters and the readers.

In the 1890s, no one dreamed of the future invention of TV. Monthly short stories were the thing. Arthur Conan Doyle had published two Holmes novels (previously serialized in magazines), but the greatest detective of all time really solidified his reputation in the 12 short stories published from July 1891 to June 1892 and immediately collected in “Adventures.” Then and now (as they lack the racism-based turnoffs found in “A Study in Scarlet” and “The Sign of Four”), many fans say “Start your Sherlock journey with ‘Adventures.’ ”

This was still the era of “Watch how he does it” rather than “whodunits” (a.k.a. puzzle mysteries). The cases are solvable inasmuch as we can guess what might happen based on Holmes’ increasing catalog of tropes and our basic understanding of fair (and fairly realistic) plotting.

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For example, I got the gist of “The Red-Headed League’s” aims upon learning of their unusual scheme of recruiting a red-headed man to transcribe an encyclopedia for 4 hours a day. But these mysteries aren’t “clued” in the later fashion of Agatha Christie.

Proving his greatness

The most winking trope is that Holmes often mentally solves the case after hearing about it in front of the hearth from his client. In “The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor,” Holmes shocks the client and Watson by announcing “I have solved it” immediately upon the conclusion of the nobleman’s tale.

Then there’s a delay before we and Watson are brought in on the answer, but this is less contrived than when Poirot leaves Hastings impatiently waiting. Often Poirot uses this time gap as an opportunity to test Hastings’ brain. Holmes, on the other hand, is waiting for a couple details to complete the picture, and for the formality of catching the criminal. He’s a man of his times; he’s not in a rush.

Another area where Doyle edges out Christie is that his stories don’t decrease in their sense of importance if there’s no murder. Only two of these 12 “Adventures” are murder mysteries. The safely spooky vibe — wherein the warm fireplace at 221B Baker Street is a haven from the depredations on the London streets — exists even if the danger is something short of murder.

And, particularly in “The Adventure of the Copper Beeches,” Holmes expresses that the countryside is even more foreboding than the city. Cries for help will not be heard, and criminals will get away with more outside of the tightly packed city with its close-at-hand police stations. In an insight into Doyle’s view on human nature, Holmes suggests that rural folks’ ignorance of the law makes them more likely to break the law.

These dozen tales are famous because they are good, and good because they are famous. I thought I was reading these for the first time, but in three cases, it was a re-read. I think I read “The Adventure of the Speckled Band” in grade school, yet I remembered what the speckled band is. It’s a prime locked-room mystery, and still a strong one.

Family dramas

The concept of Holmes as the inveterate bachelor gets locked in with his very first short story, “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Watson (always the narrator) notes that the rare times Holmes’ thoughts wander to a woman, it’s only one: Irene Adler. One aspect of continuity that’s not talked about much is that, in the very first paragraph, the reflective Watson refers to “the late Irene Adler” – but she is alive and well throughout this story, and as far as I can tell, her demise never factors into a later story.

A deductive reader might find a tinge of hypocrisy in “Bohemia,” as Holmes – generally a man of the law — is OK with breaking into a target’s living quarters for the sake of helping his client. (In this case he’s searching for a damning photograph. This also serves as a peek into the times, as nowadays a single photograph would not hold such importance, since it could be easily copied.) It’s mildly concerning that our hero considers B&E to be within the bounds of fair play.

Watson, for his part, acquired wife Mary in “The Sign of Four,” but not for any immediate narrative purpose; in fact, you’d be forgiven for forgetting what her name is (although since a high percentage of Victorian women are named Mary, you could make a fair guess).

Watson is constantly leaving the house to see if Holmes has a case he can sit in on. I wonder a little about their marriage, as Mary refers to John as “James” in “The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb,” which launches with the doctor getting an emergency house-call from a patient.

Working theories based on behavior

I suspect Doyle is not trying to say John’s and Mary’s marriage is on the rocks. Still, perilous relationships are a common theme, popping up in “Noble Bachelor” and the equally excellent “A Case of Identity.” Read in succession, we’re shown that each gender can equally hurt the other’s feelings even in an age when relationships were more codified; neither has an automatic edge.

But I have to pick as my favorite tale “The Man with the Twisted Lip.” A journalist is assigned to cover the homeless problem in London and goes undercover as a panhandler; he makes so much money in his first day that he secretly takes it up as a second vocation! Although he’s doing it for the financial good of his family, it puts a strain on his marriage when his wife thinks he’s been killed.

Parent-child drama figures in other stories, as Doyle – like Christie after him – recognizes that most crimes are committed against known people, not strangers. Although Sherlock relies on physical clues, pulling out his magnifying glass to study footprints in “The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet,” he often develops working theories based on human behavior in the interview stage.

Though arrogant and self-interested, Holmes can certainly read people. He believes the son is innocent of stealing the jewel even when the father does not. (A reminder of this being a different era: An attraction and possible marriage between cousins is not at all out of the ordinary.)

Of their time, but they’ve aged well

“The Boscombe Valley Mystery” is another strong one with an answer that lies in an understanding of the true feelings among family members, rather than outward appearances. It also has a nice woodsy vibe.

“The Five Orange Pips” is the only entry that’s short of crisp perfection, but it offers a peek into history as “K.K.K.” appears on an envelope. I assumed this does not refer to the Ku Klux Klan, until Holmes tells Watson about this Civil War-era American cult, apparently not widely known at that time in England.

“The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” meanwhile, is timeless enough to be pulled out every Christmas. It’s a fun tale wherein Holmes and Watson retrace an effect back through various causes. Holmes’ deductions of a man’s life circumstance based on his hat is among the purest examples of the detective doing his thing. And the way he gets a reticent witness to give up information on his stock of geese by phrasing it as a “bet” is worth a smile.

So is this collection as a whole. It’s not a shocking twist to conclude that the hallowed reputation of “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” is totally earned, but I have to go where the clues lead me.

Sleuthing Sunday reviews the works of Agatha Christie, along with other new and old classics of the mystery genre.