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Spence Farmer

Dr. Conaway

499 Multiverse Seminar

25 April 2022

“Watson” Archetypes and the Symbolic Landscape of Detective Fiction

The following is an attempt to map the psychological and symbolic landscape of

detective fiction through the key character conventions of the genre. The necessary place to start

is with an examination of detective fiction’s gold standard: Sherlock Holmes and John H.

Watson, conceived in Doyle’s seminal work. I theorize the thematic paradigm in all of Holmes

adventures is founded on the redemptive potential of the intellect – a capacity of our reasoning

faculties to bring order from chaos. Through the lens of Batman, Professor Layton, and finally

Danganronpa, I’d like to examine the thematic matrix of the “whodunnit” genre, investigating

how each separate multiversal connection to Holmes uses its own iteration of “Watson” to make

a philosophical case for hope in relationship to its particular audience.

Symbolically, crime is the unsavory, unmanageable part of experience – the Jungian

shadow, or the unknowable and monstrous id. The criminal, then, is not only a villain to be

bested for Holmes, but a manifestation of crime in the abstract: the detective’s true antagonist.

The obsession of Holmes and each of his successors is chaos – the unknown, the problem, the

deception or mystery which waits to be unraveled and understood by a mind sharp enough to

grasp it. This obscuration within crime functions as the ultimate symbolic antagonist for Holmes.

The stories’ widespread appeal can be attributed to this antagonist; chaos is the symbolic enemy

of us all. Injustice, corruption, deceit, and greed all threaten to overwhelm real individuals,

families, and ultimately society. In each of Holmes’ escapades, Doyle addresses all three levels
of analysis with his thesis of chaos and order. Holmes is constantly on the tail of a criminal

whose deeds are entangled with their own corrupt family and which threaten the purity and

power of the British Empire. The reader can identify with this philosophical threat personally,

and so the text resonates with an inexplicit, mythological throb. When a reader watches Holmes

use reason as a means of sorting through a tangle of lies, there is no less engagement and depth

as compared to watching a hero triumph over the dragon.

A surprisingly perennial feature of the detective genre is the partner or sidekick. For

Doyle, Watson acts as an admirable but all-too-human proxy between the reader and Sherlock’s

colder, calculating mind. On the surface of things, Watson’s textual role is to sympathize with

the audience: being impressed as we are impressed, befuddled as we are befuddled, and

comprehending the unraveling crime in sync (or sometimes, delightfully, a bit behind) us.

Watson’s likeness to the average reader actually puts him at somewhat of epistemological odds

with Holmes. Consider Sherlock’s critique of Watson’s recordkeeping; Holmes considers

Watson to have “degraded a good series of lectures into a set of tales” (Doyle). Though they are

partners, Watson’s preoccupation with telling a compelling story in his records frustrates

Sherlock who sustains himself on the clinical instruction of didactic texts. Watson, though, is an

undeniable champion of Holmes and his uncanny abilities: Watson is the champion of the

redemptive power of the intellect. Practically, Watson may act as a connection between us and

Holmes’ superpowered neurodivergence, but Watson himself is integral in the solution of

countless mysteries as a supporting role: a partner in the truest sense.

Psychologically, Watson’s function within the text could be read as the “hope” or

“optimism” faculty of the mind. Consider Holmes and Watson as two parts of the psyche – a

cold deductive capacity, motivated solely by the satisfaction of solving problems, alongside a
more emotive, well-rounded sense of personhood, cheering on and aiding the calculating nature

to solve the most pressing problems the pair faces as a unit, all the while, cataloging the action in

regard to a larger sense of narrative. It seems to me that this dichotomy maps directly onto the

asymmetric hemispheres of our minds: the “left” and “right” brain. Our psyches use different

modalities to understand phenomena. Though there is hardly room for a detour into neuroscience

proper in the scope of this paper, The Master and His Emissary by Iain McGilchrist does a

brilliant job of characterizing the history, utility, and profundity of the left and right brain divide.

Consider this summary of the hemisphere’s separate but compatible roles in relation to Doyle’s

two protagonists:

“In general terms, then, the left hemisphere yields narrow, focused attention, mainly for

the purpose of getting and feeding. The right hemisphere yields a broad, vigilant attention, the

purpose of which appears to be awareness of signals from the surroundings… and it is involved

in bonding in social animals. It might then be that the division of the human brain is also the

result of the need to bring to bear two incompatible types of attention on the world at the same

time, one narrow, focused, and directed by our needs, and the other broad, open, and directed

towards whatever else is going on in the world apart from ourselves” (McGilchrist 27).

Watson in juxtaposition to Holmes merely begins to develop this psychological reading

of the genre; an analysis of Doyle’s spiritual successors (aka, the multiversal spawn of Holmes

and Watson) furthers this hypothesis. Consider, as a crucial example, Batman: “Detective

Comic’s” superstar, and a monolith in the zeitgeist even to the present day. Batman, for all of his

super-hero pomp and antics, is at his core a Holmes: a vigilante detective, beyond conventional

justice, emotionally detached and calculated, and committed to reason as a means to get to the

bottom of crimes. Even Doyle’s concern for the British Empire is echoed in Batman’s relentless
battle against corrupt authority and the interconnected health of a society – consider the setting

of Gotham as a parallel to the setting of a waning English Empire. Batman’s means of mystery-

solving is occasionally (and importantly) different from Sherlock; Batman’s physicality,

pageantry, and dual identity are not present in Holmes, each of which serve to make the “Caped

Crusader” a more compelling “pop” icon and a snug fit in his superhero title. But their essential,

eccentric crime-solving archetype is one and the same.

If this is indeed the case, notice the natural emergence and immediate success of

Batman’s very own crimefighting partner: Robin. Introduced in Detective Comics #38, Robin has

become the quintessential “sidekick” character in the superhero world and beyond. The

“Dynamic Duo” have a lasting impression on pop culture as a partnership, just as Holmes and

Watson go hand in hand. Robin was introduced to the comic line to be a bridge between the

highly competent, adult, and somber Batman and a young reader base. The “Boy Wonder,” in

bright attire, is a mirror for the primary audience of DC (Willems).

As Batman’s comic run continued, more “Robins” were added (an interesting multiverse

canon in itself) each portrayed with their own emotions, motivations, and complex character

arcs, eventually building into Batgirl, the multi-racial Damien Wayne, and beyond in response to

a rapidly diversifying fanbase. With each iteration, “Robin” encapsulated something new and

important about the kind of audience that supported (and occasionally conflicted with) Batman’s

ethos of justice and crime solving prowess. Robin’s literary dynamism in the comics proves my

initial hypothesis for the “Watson” archetype as a mirror to the reader and a champion of

problem-solving intellect. Robin’s character design and core tenants of youth, optimism, and

precociousness, especially in comparison to Batman’s brooding and serious nature, also hint at

the spirit of hope I believe to be the most crucial element of any “Watson.”
The Nintendo video game series Professor Layton is another direct successor of Sherlock

Holmes, focusing in on a “gentleman’s ethos” with its crime-solving protagonist, Professor

Layton. The games boast puzzle solving as their primary mechanic and mode of story

progression. As per the symbolic pattern we’ve been tracking, Layton too has a sidekick in Luke,

a ten-year-old boy protégé. Luke, just like Robin, reflects the game’s target audience – an

amateur detective and bright pairing to Layton’s reserved politeness. Luke’s angle as an

apprentice to Layton gets even closer to the theory connecting “Watson” and hope, as Luke has

direct aspirations to be like his mentor. Luke’s plucky optimism, charming innocence, and

constant belief in the best of people all contribute to the “Watson” hypothesis of hope.

As a vehicle of hope, “Watsons” offset the potential negativity of a detective’s intense

intellect which must see every detail of their situation as a potential clue: evidence of a crime.

The masterful detective puts no one beyond the scope of their suspicion, and thus, risks being

supremely pessimistic – they must see and analyze every phenomenon as leverage to understand

depravity. In each of the narratives examined so far, the detective’s potential pessimism is

answered and complimented by at least one core motivation of the “Holmes” and the persistent

attitude of hope in the “Watson.” The Professor Layton franchise does this with Layton’s

gentlemen sensibility and manners (he does not explicitly presume anyone’s guilt) and Luke’s

amazement with Layton and boyish hope. Batman accomplishes this with his aggressive striving

for justice and desire to repair Gotham, alongside Robin’s nascent competence and, once again,

hope. Holmes himself is neutralized by his interpersonal disconnectedness from the crimes and,

of course, Watson’s ability to appreciate the human element of their mysteries with hope.

Finally, I will examine the connection between the symbolic world of Holmes to

Danganronpa, a narrative that brazenly venerates the “Watson” archetype and his ethic of hope.
Danganronpa is an intellectual property that exists as a manga, a video game, and an anime. The

series hails from Japan, and in accordance with its culture, its themes are super-saturated:

cloyingly explicit, in a lovable way. The story is a mystery thriller in which the central mechanic

is solving murders, but this time, the crime-solving is democratized among a class of sixteen

high school students out to get each other. Danganronpa echoes the thematic patterns we’ve

tracked across the Holmes and Watson multiverse, but in this iteration, the battle between

depravity and intellect, hope and despair, is explicitly philosophical and expanded to a collective

of hyper-competent individuals.

The premise of Danganronpa pulls from titles such as Hunger Games and Survivor;

students are trapped together at the school and the only means of escape is to get away with the

murder of a classmate. After a corpse is discovered and an investigation period elapses, the

remaining students convene to have a trial, draw upon the evidence they’ve accumulated, and

take a vote on who they think the guilty party is. If a majority of the vote gets the killer right, the

killer is put to death and the other students continue life at the high school. If majority is

incorrect, the killer is permitted to leave, and all other students are put to death. This puts the

burden of crime-solving onto all of the students, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

The setting of the killing game is “Hope’s Peak Academy” – a high school initially

designed to foster the country’s brightest students. Thus, each student character in the game is an

“Ultimate Something.” Whether they are royalty, a super-athlete, clairvoyant, or a pop star, every

student of Hope’s Peak is exceptional. The story, however, is told from the perspective of

Makoto Naegi, a blatantly average sixteen-year-old boy at Hope’s Peak. Makoto makes it clear

he is un-special in every way; in fact, he’s been enrolled at the excellent school on the basis of a

lottery – he is nominally the “Ultimate Lucky Student.”


The students are up against a personified version of Holmes’ abstract antagonist – chaos

– in the form of Monokuma, an animatronic teddy bear. The bear (or really, the mastermind

behind the bear) has orchestrated the student’s plight as a publicized game, broadcast to the

world to generate the most despair possible. The group behind Monokuma is known as “The

Ultimate Despair,” out to accomplish the same kind of personal, familial, and societal corruption

of crime itself.

By the end of the narrative, Makoto earns a new title: “The Ultimate Hope;” after going

through murder and betrayal, against impossible odds of survival, Makoto chooses to trust his

fellow classmates and offers them a hand of friendship – potent enough to unite the remaining

students against their captor. The message of Danganronpa is clear as day, but it works, and for

the purposes of understanding the archetypal substructure of this genre, Makoto is a perfect

distillation of the “Watson” archetype.

As students are killed or voted off one by one, the story boils down into a focused

interplay between Makoto and a love interest/best friend Kyoko who is revealed to be the

“Ultimate Detective.” Danganronpa boils down to a pair of characters which essentially fulfill

the Holmes and Watson duo roles, but the story concludes with a triumph of all the living

students over Monokuma and despair itself. Kyoko isn’t the only super-skilled friend Makoto is

assisting; Makoto is the cornerstone of Danganronpa because of his ability to synthesize his

peer’s various strengths into one ethically substantive aim, championing each individual to fight

in the right direction. Makoto is the hyperbolic everyman, yet his ability to root for the

intellectual power and strength of not only the “Ultimate Detective,” but also the rest of the cast

allows the students to prevail. Makoto empowers each student to act with the hope that they will

be able to succeed against the face of chaos.


This is the quintessential invitation of “Watson,” and the nature of sidekicks in the

detective genre at large; even the most average reader can emulate a “Watson” and engage with

the text by championing, with him, “Holmes” and his incredible intellect – asserting, alongside

Watson, that our reasoning possesses redemptive power, fairness can prevail, and truth can be

found; relishing ultimate solutions to ultimate mysteries in the archetypal taming of chaos.

Danganronpa pushes this theory even further, not only pairing Makoto with a brilliant

detective, but with brilliance from every kind of discipline: artistic, athletic, social, and

intellectual. Makoto works as a protagonist and the “glue” for the students of Hope’s Peak

because his hope and belief in unifying friendship elicits the best out of each highly competent

individual in a context where their competence could easily be misapplied to nefarious ends.

This is hope’s role as a virtue and necessary counterpart of the intellect. Hope is a

supreme unifying force and precondition for redemptive competence. It is the potency of

friendship and a belief in people’s character that actualizes the mastering of chaos we venerate in

stories of detective fiction and fiction at large. Watson is an unlikely but perfect example of this

paradigm and a sophisticated case for hope as a psychological tool and symbolic fundamental.
Works Cited

Cassady, C. “Danganronpa: The Animated Series.” Video Librarian, vol. 31, no. 1, Jan. 2016, p.

81. EBSCOhost, https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=f3h&AN=112081440&site=eds-live&scope=site.

Doyle, Arthur Conan, et al. The Complete Sherlock Holmes. Barnes & Noble, 2021.

McClellan, Ann K. Sherlock’s World : Fan Fiction and the Reimagining of BBC’s Sherlock.

University of Iowa Press, 2018. EBSCOhost, https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=cat08715a&AN=rlc.852033&site=eds-live&scope=site.

McGilchrist, Iain. The Master and His Emissary : The Divided Brain and the Making of the

Western World. New expanded edition., Yale University Press, 2019. EBSCOhost,

https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=cat08715a&AN=rlc.859120&site=eds-live&scope=site.

Willems, Patrick H. “Why Are Batman Movies Afraid of Robin?” YouTube, 2022,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yabUYM5uN0.

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