I'd say that's a creation, not a 're-creation' since it never actually existed in real life, Sherlock Holmes is after all a work of fiction.
It also can't be accurate since the original is (for the most part) imaginary, and everybody that reads the books will see this different with their own imagination augmenting the text.
Taking it to the point of reconciling all the bits of data in the stories without finding contradictions suggests that Conan Doyle had a pretty extensive series of notes on his characters lodgings.
Surely your last point does indeed point to a "re-creation".
Its a re-creation of the detailed model Conan Doyle had either in mind or in his notes. Which as you point out is supported strongly by the fact that a coherent model can be made from the stories
Good point, so not re-creating the rooms but the description of them.
Were any notes supporting a detailed model ever found?
Most authors that write long running stories or sequels keep notes of some sort to avoid contradicting themselves, given the length of the Sherlock Holmes run I would be more surprised if such notes were not used, that would be an amazing feat of memory.
I have trouble envisioning the room next door in great detail, for instance, I know there is a chest of drawers there, but I couldn't tell you if it has 5 or 6 drawers even though I've seen it a hundred times.
Such talents vary; for example I can describe every room in my house and those at work in extreme detail. Places I go to at intervals (say once a month to a friends house) I can describe pretty accurately. And places I've visited once but in the last month or so I can pull up a pretty good image of.
You find this a very common factor in many writers; particularly ye-olde ones (where keeping and searching notes was not as easy as now) whereby they would have a detailed and vivid scene in their mind - which was easier to remember.
On contradictions in literature-- I once heard Joseph Heller speaking about Catch-22. He said somebody had sent him the results of a computer program designed to arrange the events in "Catch-22" in order to minimize the number of unresolvable contradictions between forward and backward references (e.g., "A was before B" and "B was before C" but "A was after C"). I don't remember the exact count, but it was in the hundreds.
Sherlock Holmes is a work of fiction, but 221b Baker Street is a real address. You can go there today and visit it in London. It's a popular tourist destination. Conan Doyle did visit the house and I've been told that details match up with the building that's in the books (such as number of stairs). They've decorated the rooms there to match the details from the books too.
Yes, but rather than him just randomly select an address for a location he has taken the time to visit it and describe it accurately in his books. If he's gone to this level of detail already, it would make sense that the layout of the furniture, fittings and items in the building also map to an accurate model.
Some authors can't always go to this level of detail. For example J. K. Rowling was in Scotland when writing the first Harry Potter book, as a result she describes Kings Cross from memory, confusing it with another London Station, so her description of it does match the real world location.
London also exists... Baker Street 221b is a setting, the fact that it is real and that Conan Doyle visited it is parallel to any author documenting the 'setting' of their story.
The article is all about the stuff in Holmes' rooms.
According to the notes the main problems were in consolidating the layout etc. of the rooms in relation to each other.
(that they agree with the current museum building is possibly due to the current building being chosen because it fitted the description - rather than it being known as the correct address)
Interesting! Art imitating life imitating art again.
edit: Apropos Conan Doyle:
A cabbie picked up the great writer at a Paris railroad station to drive him to his hotel.
Upon parting the cabbie said: "Goodbye mr. Doyle".
Conan Doyle taken aback by this responded: "How do you know who I am, do you recognize me from my picture?"
the cabbie: "No, sir, I've never seen a picture of you before, but I read you were going to be vacationing in France, your coat has the cut of an English gentleman, you have an ink spot on your finger indicating you are a writer and the train I picked you up on hails from the coast. All these clues together made it very likely that you were the great writer himself."
Doyle: "Amazing feats of deduction, you are worthy of being an incarnation of Sherlock himself!"
Cabbie: "Oh, and one more thing, your bag has your name written on it".
> can go there today and visit it in London. It's a popular tourist destination.
There's a museum/gift shop there now.
The pictures that I can find now online look a lot more residential than what I remember from 2000 or so. I remember that it was a granite-slab front office building with a pla
The official 221 Baker street was actually (in modern times) the offices of Abbey National. The current museum was about at that time too but is located between 137 and 140 Upper Baker Street.
The location of the original 221 is not known for certain because of street renumbering and destruction during the Blitz.
Not unlikely. The stories are set from 1880 to 1900 or so, and indoor plumbing was first documented in the 1840's and remained a considerable luxury for some time.
In a building of the age of 221b Baker Street it's unlikely that it was overhauled to allow the necessary plumbing for indoor toilets.
Around 1900, rich men might not have toilets either. What they did have was servants to take out the chamberpots. Said chamberpots might reside in a wooden arm-chair, where the bottom part was enclosed (with a front door, a mini-cupboard, if you will), and the seat would have a manhole-like cover, of the same wood.
In the country (and perhaps not only), chamberpot contents would go into the manure pile. Which might be under an outhouse with a similar seat arrangement.
They probably did their own chamber - being bachelors under the roof of a landlady (who I think is the only other occupant - I don't think any maids are actually mentioned)
The stories start in 1887, interior flush toilets were something of a luxury at the time, having only been popularized two years prior (by a guy called Twyford).
Houses that already existed did not have room for a 'privy' unless they were extensively remodeled (a toilet needs a lot of plumbing).
If there was a toilet it was most likely on the ground floor, near the front of the house (to economize on the runs of big diameter pipes).
Watson's bedroom was presumably on the floor above the pictured floor. (They also don't show Mrs. Hudson's bedroom.) Watson moved out pretty early in the series after marrying Mary Morstan.
It also can't be accurate since the original is (for the most part) imaginary, and everybody that reads the books will see this different with their own imagination augmenting the text.
Taking it to the point of reconciling all the bits of data in the stories without finding contradictions suggests that Conan Doyle had a pretty extensive series of notes on his characters lodgings.