Sherlock Holmes. Certainly Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never imagined how timeless his creation would be. In fact, it’s become fairly common knowledge that Mr. Holmes was Conan Doyle’s least beloved character, so much so that he attempted (tragically and unsuccessfully) to kill off the detective. Holmes’ death failed to stop the tales of his exploits, however; Watson, in a master stroke of awkward and shoehorned storytelling, managed to dig up countless as yet untold stories from his presumably bottomless archive so that the serial could continue, much to the jubilation of Holmesian fans worldwide.

That said, Holmes culture has brought many ubiquitous phrases into the world, not the least of which is the wonderfully apocryphal “Elementary, my dear Watson.”

So what draws the public to a figure like this? It’s no secret that the character of Dr. Gregory House was heavily modeled after Sherlock Holmes (“House? Holmes? Get it?” I hear those cheeky hospital drama writers say, their eyebrows dancing to the beat of their own cleverness). Shows like Monk and Psych revolve around the eccentric genius, able to spot subtleties that we regular folk would so effortlessly overlook. But I believe his appeal comes from more than his being a pioneer in the field of forensics, or the fervor brought about by the Cumberbatch Crew, which I’m confident fans of the BBC adaptation must call themselves. No, what I believe might have made him so appealing and enduring was the fact that he was not, despite his idiosyncrasies, a supernatural being. He suffered no serendipitous run-in with toxic waste that imbued him with his abilities, nor was he granted any magical powers that allowed him to divine the identities of culprits (at least not until Doctor Strange). He was simply diligent and studious, willing to invest hours to study, qualities that made his successes all the more admirable and his failures all the more relatable.

How, then, does this relate to magic?