Saturday, 30 September 2017
They All Love Jack; Busting The Ripper.
Its a hoary old subject to be sure ( and a "whorey" old one as well I suppose) is Ripperology. I have read a few books which detail this subject as their driving force behind their various narratives and there are a number of different ones about the same subject. All off them going their own way with their own take on the events of that long ago Autumn of London 1888. It is almost as though it is more important to come up with a new skewed view as it is to come up with possible answers to a series of very brutal murders, with the victims reduced to to the level of Cluedo pieces.
Not so with Bruce Robinson's breath taking magnum opus They All Love Jack Busting The Ripper. Previously voiceless victims are remembered with righteous invective aimed very precisely at the heartless bullies who allowed them to suffer so and to cover up the deeds of their killer because he was one of them. It is a sprawling book eight hundred pages or so long loaded with details and, literally, furious insight.
I believed in this book. I believed what the author had to say and was doubly horrified by the lengths of the authorities duplicity and connivance. Never again will any suggestion of a return to Victorian values sound anything less to me than a battle hymn to those cruel and indifferent to the suffering of its citizens authoritarianism. The book exposes an almost Wagnerian roster of corruption, the roots of which extended to every level of the establishment.If what Bruce Robinson is saying is true then the murders were instigated as a mocking slight by a madman against Freemasonry, its tenants, its rituals and most sacred and secret beliefs. The murders when viewed through the prism of occult Freemason mythology are committed in such a fashion as to telegraph to other members of this hallowed order that one of their own's hand was on the killing blade. A playful tease writ in blood and entrails of the most defenseless and desperate women attempting to survive on the streets of Victorian London. It is a terrifying idea and one which embodies the very notion of what it is to carry out an evil act. Evil acts which did not even end after what were previously believed to be the canonical five Ripper murders. It is hard to process such thoughts but worse were to follow. Murders I had not heard off. You see, according to Bruce Robinson, the Ripper killings did not stop with Mary Kelly, the media of that age just stopped reporting them. Turning a Judas blind eye to the bloody deeds.
It is a powerful piece of work, with a confidant strident voice ringing out clearly.
I fear when I put this copy on the shelf next to the other books on the subject it might well push them off laughing scornfully as they tumble spine over jacket.
Nobody really loves Jack but more than a few love Bruce Robinson.