The Sherlock Holmes mysteries consist of 56 short stories and four novels. And only one of those stories takes place at Christmas time in Victorian England. It’s the famous story, “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” which finds Holmes and Watson chasing a jewel thief in London who has stuffed his prize down the throat of a live Christmas goose. Yes, you heard me. A goose. First the goose is alive, then it’s not, then it’s well and truly cooked. And zaniness ensues. It’s fun story but there’s a huge gaping plot hole in the middle of it all. And as you might imagine, that the subject of my article this week at SleuthSayers, the mystery blog.

You can learn all about it in an article entitled:

Alimentary, My Dear Watson!

Here’s a little of the story:

I reread the story recently to see what sort of Christmasy details Conan Doyle folded into his prose. They’re sparse; mostly Watson describing cold weather, warm fires, a cast of chilly characters, and ice crystals forming in windows. There are no Christmas trees or presents. Since the story is nearly 133 years old, I don’t think I’m spoiling anyone’s enjoyment by revealing that in the end, Holmes lets the repentant thief off scot-free. Because, he argues, “it’s the season of forgiveness.”

I enjoyed the story immensely this time around, and then foolishly read all the notes about it in my copy of Leslie S. Klinger’s The Annotated Sherlock Holmes. That’s how I learned that serious Sherlockians have long quibbled with fine points of the tale.

Some examples should suffice. A carbuncle is a garnet, which are typically red. Though they have been found in other colors, there’s no such thing as a blue carbuncle. No garnets have ever been found in the Chinese river Holmes mentions as the origin of this stone. The detective botches a discussion of the jewel’s weight, presumed value, and chemical composition. The law enforcement official in the story conducts a hardness test on the stone that does not prove what he thinks it does. Moreover, of the eleven or so deductions Holmes makes about the bowler, Sherlockians dismiss at least four as highly illogical.

That’s just a taste of the story. Conan Doyle botched a critical detail which was only discovered in the 20th century by—egads!—a woman, not one of the thousands of Sherlockian experts in the world, most of whom are men.

It’s a fun story, and my last SleuthSayers column of 2024. I hope you’ll stop by to check it out.

I hope you’ll visit and check out the story. It certainly took me quite a bit of time to research and fact-check. Luckily, I can now treat myself to some pie.

I wish you all a belated Happy Thanksgiving!

Turns out, I have never written a Thanksgiving short story or novel. And until very recently, I had never written a Christmas story. Well, that all changes now. I hope you will check out my warmhearted Christmas time travel novella, Preston the Provider. (Affiliate link.)