The Sign of Four by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

With the release this month (finally!) of BBC One’s new season of Sherlock, I thought it would be appropriate to focus January’s book blog on the influence Sherlock Holmes had on the Alienist books. With numerous mentions of Holmes in interviews, plus being commissioned by the Conan Doyle estate to write The Italian Secretary in 2005, the importance of the world’s first consulting detective to Caleb Carr’s literary output is clear. But which stories were most important for the Alienist books? With such a large number of short stories and novels to choose from in the Holmes canon, it wasn’t easy to decide which story to focus this particular blog on, but in the end I decided to select The Sign of Four, the second Holmes novel, due to its very clear connections to The Alienist’s sequel, The Angel of Darkness.

What’s it about?

Sherlock Holmes is bored, and that means only one thing: cocaine, a seven percent solution. After offending Watson by deducing the history of his brother’s unhappy past from an inherited pocket watch, Holmes’ multi-week run of idleness is finally broken by the arrival at 221B Baker Street of the pretty yet plainly dressed Miss Mary Morstan, the adult daughter of an officer from an Indian regiment who disappeared ten years earlier.

Pleased that Miss Morstan’s appearance means he won’t have to take a second dose of cocaine that day, Holmes listens intently as he and Watson’s new client recounts her story involving the disappearance of her father, her receipt of anonymous gifts of large and lustrous pearls at yearly intervals following his disappearance, and a letter she received earlier that day informing her that she has been a “wronged woman” and containing instructions on how to meet her anonymous benefactor. The only evidence Miss Morstan can offer Holmes is the anonymous letter and a map with the “sign of four” marked in the left-hand corner that was found among her father’s papers following his disappearance.

As we follow Holmes and Watson in their efforts to solve Miss Morstan’s mystery, we are taken on a typically Holmesian adventure that includes late night carriage rides through the atmospheric foggy streets of London, a stolen treasure, murder by poison dart, a man with a wooden leg, a chase on the Thames via steam launch, and even a blossoming love story for Watson!

My thoughts

The Sign of Four was the second Sherlock Holmes novel written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, first published in 1890. Although I am a long-time Holmes fan and have read the entire canon more than once, this was my first re-read of The Sign of Four for several years and I thoroughly enjoyed my return to the world of 1880s/90s London. As with all of Doyle’s Holmes stories, The Sign of Four is a quick and easy read that lacks the florid embellishments that sometimes detract from Victorian prose. The subject matter of the story, however, is delightfully Victorian in its eccentricity. We are made aware early in the piece that a mysterious character with a wooden leg is involved in the story, and if that isn’t quirky enough, the wooden legged man also has an unusually small accomplice. As any Alienist reader will realise, it is through this accomplice that we find our first and most important connection to The Angel of Darkness.

“…How about this mysterious ally? How came he into the room?”

“Yes, the ally!” repeated Holmes, pensively. “There are features of interest about this ally. He lifts the case from the regions of the commonplace. I fancy that this ally breaks fresh ground in the annals of crime in this country — though parallel cases suggest themselves from India, and, if my memory serves me, from Senegambia.”

And:

He held down the lamp to the floor, and as he did so I saw for the second time that night a startled, surprised look come over his face. For myself, as I followed his gaze, my skin was cold under my clothes. The floor was covered thickly with the prints of a naked foot — clear, well defined, properly formed, but scarce half the size of those of an ordinary man.

Caleb Carr’s inclusion of the Filipino pygmy, El Niño, who also uses poisoned darts as one of his methods of disabling and killing his opponents in The Angel of Darkness, has been thought curious by some readers and reviewers, but he is the novel’s clearest nod to The Sign of Four’s pygmy islander, Tonga. Fun, right? However, the tips-of-the-hat don’t end there!

The Sign of Four also finds the great detective employing the services of Toby, “a queer mongrel, with a most amazing power of scent,” to assist him on the case. When Watson visits the dog’s owner, Mr. Sherman, who keeps a menagerie of creatures in his rundown lodgings, Stevie’s visit to his eccentric friend, Hickie the Hun, from whom he hires a scenting ferret in The Angel of Darkness can’t help being called to mind.

“Step in, sir. Keep clear of the badger, for he bites. Ah, naughty, naughty! would you take a nip at the gentleman?” This to a stoat, which thrust its wicked head and red eyes between the bars of its cage. “Don’t mind that, sir; it’s only a slowworm. It hain’t got no fangs, so I gives it the run o’ the room, for it keeps the beetles down.” … He moved slowly forward with his candle among the queer animal family which he had gathered round him. In the uncertain, shadowy light I could see dimply that there were glancing, glimmering eyes peeping down at us from every cranny and corner.

If that isn’t enough, the climax of The Sign of Four takes place via a steam launch chase on the Thames. Now, perhaps this one is a stretch, but the Alienist team’s employment of Torpedo boats from the Brooklyn Navy Yard to their final confrontation with Libby Hatch in The Angel of Darkness is certainly an interesting coincidence. And finally, one also can’t help wondering if even the title “The Angel of Darkness” was in any way a nod to Doyle’s first Sherlock Holmes play, “Angels of Darkness“, which went unpublished until 2000. Hmmm…

So, if you haven’t yet had the pleasure of reading any of the original Holmes canon, don’t limit yourself to the various TV adaptations. I highly recommend that you give the originals a try, and Alienist fans should find it extra fun to use their powers of observation and deduction to spot any other connections to the books!

The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett

A new element of 17th Street that I’m going to be introducing over the coming months are “book blogs” containing short reviews or features about books that readers of Caleb Carr’s work might find interesting or enjoyable. However, rather than starting with my own recommendations or recommendations from site visitors, I thought it might be appropriate to spend the first few months overviewing some of the works Caleb Carr has said were major influences for his work, ranging from Wilkie Collins to Jacob Riis for The Alienist, Jules Verne to H. G. Wells for Killing Time, and Arthur Conan Doyle to H. Rider Haggard for The Legend of Broken.

As we’re currently in the middle of the holiday season, I thought that it might be appropriate to start with a Christmas-themed novel that Caleb Carr cited in the NYT web chat earlier this year as “a huge inspiration” for The Alienist, Dashiell Hammett’s The Thin Man. As always, the following is only one woman’s opinion of the book; if you’ve read the book, I’d love to know what you thought in the comments.

What’s it about?

It’s Christmas in Prohibition era New York City, and former detective Nick Charles, his smart and sassy wife Nora, and their feisty Schnauzer “Asta” have returned to the city in order to escape their San Francisco in-laws for the holiday season. The novel opens with Nick being found by the daughter of an old acquaintance in a speakeasy while he is waiting for Nora to finish her Christmas shopping. It quickly becomes apparent that the acquaintance — a “crazy” inventor — hasn’t been seen in the city for months, his ex-wife and grown-up children are trying to locate him, and his lawyer is suspicious that Nick has been hired by the ex-wife to search for him. But things really heat up when the inventor’s secretary and former lover is found dead in her rooms, her body riddled with bullets.

Under pressure from the inventor’s daughter, the inventor’s lawyer, and the police, Nick finally agrees to join the investigation into the mystery that threatens to disrupt he and Nora’s drinking holiday. For the remainder of the novel, we follow private investigator Nick, who always has a cocktail on hand, into the world of speakeasies, gangsters, petty criminals, and pistols that is 1930s New York City.

My thoughts

The Thin Man is classic hardboiled detective fiction written in 1932 by Dashiell Hammett, a former operative for Pinkerton’s Detective Agency, giving the novel an air of authenticity. Although I found the writing a bit thin in places (oh look, a pun!), that’s to be expected for a short work of this genre, and I’m used to it from other writers of the time period. I will admit that I found it a little irritating to realise at the conclusion of the novel that the reader hadn’t been privy to all the clues throughout the course of the story, but it was ultimately well-plotted enough that I’m willing to forgive it on that particular shortcoming. However, probably my favourite element of the novel — and the thing that kept me reading — was the continual bantering and witty repartee between Nick and Nora, something that reminded me strongly of the amusing exchanges between John and Sara in the Alienist books (it’s one of my favourite elements of those books, too). For example,

She gave me a newspaper and a cup of coffee and said: “Read that.”
I patiently read a paragraph or two, then put the paper down and took a sip of coffee. “Fun’s fun,” I said, “but right now I’d swap you all the interviews with Mayor-elect O’Brien ever printed — and throw in the Indian picture — for a slug of whis-“
“Not that, stupid.” She put a finger on the paper. “That.”

And,

Nick: “Don’t you think a drink would help you to sleep?”
Nora: “No thanks.”
Nick: “Maybe it would if I took one.”

Do those exchanges remind you of anybody? Of course, not being knowledgable about classic film, I was unaware until I looked it up (ah Wikipedia, what would we do without you?) that this kind of bantering between a leading man and his leading lady is a core element of screwball comedy, which we know from interviews Caleb Carr is a fan of, so perhaps The Alienist contains more tips-of-the-hat to that genre and/or works like The Thin Man than I had previously been aware (and perhaps I should make a point of actually watching some). In any case, it certainly made for an enjoyable read regarding the book at hand. And, on a more personal level, the novel had one extra element of enjoyment for me: I grew up with a Mini Schnauzer so I rather appreciated Asta’s regular appearances in every other chapter — and, that’s right, they are not a cross between a Scottie and an Irish Terrier!

Ultimately, I found The Thin Man to be atmospheric, fun, and worth reading if you enjoy classic detective fiction and/or witty barbs traded between a couple of clever characters over cocktails; and it’s certainly an appropriate read for the holiday season. If you haven’t already read it or seen the 1934 film of the same name, why not pick it up during your last minute Christmas shopping or download it on your eReader for a quick and easy read over the holidays?

Whatever you do decide to read this festive season, I hope you have a very Merry Christmas that is a little less eventful than Nick and Nora’s turned out to be.