You know that feeling when you pick up a book and it feels less like reading and more like coming home? That's the weird, enduring magic of Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes. It’s massive. It’s heavy enough to use as a doorstop. Yet, over a century since the first story dropped in Beeton’s Christmas Annual, we are still obsessed with a guy who plays the violin at 3:00 AM and injects a seven-percent solution of cocaine when he’s bored.
Honestly, it’s a bit ridiculous.
The world has changed. We have DNA sequencing, GPS tracking, and AI that can predict a crime before it happens. But somehow, watching a Victorian gentleman look at a splash of mud on a shoe and deduce a man’s entire life history still hits different.
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The sheer scale of Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes
When you talk about the "Complete" collection, you aren't just talking about a couple of novels. You’re looking at four full-length novels and fifty-six short stories. It is a staggering amount of work that Doyle actually grew to hate. He famously tried to kill Holmes off at the Reichenbach Falls because he wanted to write "serious" historical novels like The White Company.
The public didn't care. They wanted the hat. They wanted the pipe.
Doyle’s relationship with his creation was messy. He was a doctor who wasn't very successful at being a doctor, so he started writing to pass the time between patients who never showed up. The irony is that the scientific method he applied to Holmes was something he struggled with in his personal life, especially later on when he became deeply invested in Spiritualism and "fairies."
But the text survives the man. The stories, starting from A Study in Scarlet (1887) and running all the way through The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes (1927), create a map of a foggy, gas-lit London that probably never existed exactly like that, but we all believe in it anyway.
Why the "First" story is actually kind of weird
If you sit down to read Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes from page one, you start with A Study in Scarlet. Most people find this jarring.
Why? Because halfway through a murder mystery in London, Doyle teleports you to Utah. Suddenly, you're reading a Western about Mormons and a desert trek. It feels like the printer accidentally bound two different books together.
It was a bold move for a debut. It showed that Doyle wasn't just interested in the "who-dunnit." He was interested in the "why-they-dunnit." He wanted to explore the vast, sweeping backstories that lead a person to commit an unthinkable act in a dingy flat in Lauriston Gardens. This narrative structure—the "flashback novel"—became a staple in The Valley of Fear too.
It’s these weird structural choices that make the collection feel human. It’s not a polished, corporate product. It’s the work of a man figuring out a genre as he went along.
The Watson Factor: The unsung hero of the canon
We need to talk about John Watson.
In most movies, he’s a bumbling sidekick. In the actual text of Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes, he is a war-hardened veteran of the British Army. He’s been shot. He’s seen the worst of humanity in Afghanistan.
Watson is the soul of the stories. Without him, Holmes is just a calculating machine—a "calculating machine," as Doyle literally calls him. Watson provides the warmth. He’s the one who notices when Holmes is spiraling into depression. He’s the one who translates the cold, hard logic into something that feels like an adventure.
The dynamic is basically this:
- Holmes provides the "What."
- Watson provides the "So what?"
- The reader provides the "Tell me more."
If you read the stories in order, you see their friendship evolve from two strangers splitting rent because London is too expensive, to a pair of old men who genuinely cannot function without each other. It’s one of the greatest "bromances" in literary history, and it’s buried under layers of Victorian politeness and tobacco smoke.
The logic that isn't actually logic
Here is a secret that most "Sherlockians" (the hardcore fans) know but don't always like to admit: Holmes isn't always logical.
He uses a process he calls "deduction," but in most cases, it's actually abduction.
In formal logic, deduction is certain. If all men are mortal and Socrates is a man, Socrates is mortal. 100%. In Sherlock’s world, he observes a man has a certain type of callus on his finger and concludes he is a typesetter. That’s a guess. A very educated, highly probable guess based on a massive internal database of trivia, but it’s still an inference to the best explanation.
This is why the stories work. If it were pure math, it would be boring. Instead, it’s a high-stakes game of observation.
The dark side of 221B Baker Street
When people think of Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes, they often think of cozy mysteries. But the canon is surprisingly dark.
There is a lot of drug use. Not just the cocaine, but morphine too. Holmes uses them to escape the "stagnation" of daily life. Then there’s the violence. People are beaten to death with brass knockers, poisoned by exotic snakes, and driven mad by fear.
Doyle was writing for a Victorian audience that was fascinated by the "underworld." London was the center of the world, but it was also a place of crushing poverty and hidden crimes. Holmes represented the idea that the chaos could be mastered. That a single mind, armed with a magnifying glass and a chemistry set, could bring order to the madness.
It was a comforting thought then. It’s a comforting thought now.
Essential stories you can't skip
If you’re staring at the 1,000+ pages of the complete collection and feeling overwhelmed, don't just start at page one and grind through. Jump around. The stories weren't originally written to be read in a single sitting. They were magazine features.
The heavy hitters
- The Sign of Four: This is where we see the peak of Holmes’s drug use and the introduction of Mary Morstan. It’s got a boat chase on the Thames. It’s high-octane Victorian action.
- A Scandal in Bohemia: The only story featuring Irene Adler. She doesn't "outsmart" Holmes in a battle of wits—she simply wins the game and leaves. He keeps her photo as a reminder of his own fallibility.
- The Red-Headed League: This one is just fun. It starts with a bizarre premise about a group for ginger-haired men and turns into a bank heist.
- The Adventure of the Speckled Band: Doyle’s personal favorite. It’s a "locked room" mystery with a gothic, terrifying atmosphere.
- The Hound of the Baskervilles: Often cited as the best mystery novel ever written. It manages to mix the supernatural with the scientific in a way that feels genuinely spooky even today.
What most people get wrong about the canon
There are things "everyone knows" about Sherlock Holmes that are nowhere in the actual books by Arthur Conan Doyle.
- "Elementary, my dear Watson": He never says it. Not once. He says "Elementary" and he says "My dear Watson," but the combo is a creation of the stage and screen.
- The Deerstalker Hat: It’s never mentioned by name in the text. Sidney Paget, the illustrator for The Strand Magazine, drew him in it because the story took place in the country. In London, Holmes wore a top hat or a felt hat. He wasn't a fashion disaster.
- The Meerschaum Pipe: The giant, curved pipe is another invention for the stage. It was easier for actors to hold while speaking their lines. In the books, Holmes smokes a variety of pipes, including a "black oily clay" one when he's in a particularly foul mood.
These details matter because they show how Holmes has become a myth. He’s bigger than the books. He’s a character that the world collectively owns and edits.
The legacy of the detective
Why does Arthur Conan Doyle the Complete Sherlock Holmes still sell?
It’s because Doyle accidentally invented the "superhero" template. Holmes has a secret lair (Baker Street), a sidekick (Watson), a signature look, and a "superpower" (observation). He even has a rogue’s gallery, headlined by the "Napoleon of Crime," Professor Moriarty.
But more than that, the stories are about the thrill of the intellect. In a world that often feels confusing and random, Holmes promises that there is a reason for everything. The scratch on the floor, the ash on the rug, the way someone lingers at a door—everything is a clue.
It’s a way of looking at the world that makes you feel more alive. You start noticing the details. You start wondering about the person sitting across from you on the train.
Actionable ways to experience the collection
If you want to actually "get" Sherlock Holmes, don't just treat it like a school assignment.
- Listen to the radio plays: The BBC did a full run with Clive Merrison and Michael Williams. It is arguably the most faithful adaptation ever made.
- Read the illustrations: If you buy a physical copy, make sure it has the original Sidney Paget illustrations. They are as much a part of the experience as the words.
- Visit the sites: If you’re ever in London, go to the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street. Yes, it’s a tourist trap. Yes, it’s wonderful.
- Check the chronologies: Scholars have spent decades trying to figure out the "real" dates of the stories (since Doyle was famously bad at keeping his timeline straight). Looking into "The Great Game" (the hobby of treating Holmes as a real person) adds a whole new layer of fun.
Start with The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It’s the first collection of short stories and contains some of the most iconic moments in the canon. You don’t need a pipe or a magnifying glass, just a bit of curiosity and a willingness to believe that the world is a little more interesting than it looks on the surface.
The game is afoot. It always has been.
To dive deeper into the world of Baker Street, pick up a version of the text that includes the "Apocrypha"—the stories Doyle wrote that aren't technically part of the main 60 but give a glimpse into his writing process. Focus on the transition between the early Victorian stories and the later Edwardian ones to see how British society—and Holmes himself—aged and changed over forty years of publication.