Tuesday 21 July 2020

Dan Leno And The Limehouse Golem (Revisited.)

In his day, on top of his game, Dan Leno was described as "The funniest Man alive", probably by himself, such was his impish self promotion, although in all honesty was no more than a self fulfilling projection of the esteem, love and affection his audiences felt for him.And such affection was hard won. These people led exceptionally hard lives, day to day existance in Victoria's London for those near the bottom of the rigidly class based social hierarchy. Life expectancy was short, people played hard any opportunity they got.
            Yet a performer of Dan Leno's many abilities, who constantly grafted to improve and refine his act, had the power to lift them from the brutal niches they were forced to live in. For a short spell he could distract them from the grim daily grind. He had the power to make them laugh, to make them cry, but with joy.  His mimicry of the many characters who would have filled their lives made him one of their own, in a sense, all off their own. Gifting them the joy of the moment, a relief from casual brutality.
            But off course, there was brutality to go back to and sometimes even the most hardened of Victorians could be shocked by the scale of such brutality. Almost a decade before the more infamous Jack The Ripper Whitechapel murders there were a series of equally shocking crimes, attributed in this era to the mysterious and inexplicable "Limehouse Golem." in this book Peter Ackroyd takes us into the world of the Victorian music hall, gas lit and gin soaked, bawdy, bad and beautiful. He blends fiction and reality, the dreamscape and nightmare country of the age, in a way most peculiar to historical storytelling. Peter Ackroyd navigates the dark waters of the East End, mustering affection but not shy of its horrors. he recreates an extraordinary city scape, bringing it alive as one turns the pages. It is not at all always a pleasant journey to go on, this is not some touristy Ripper Walking Tour where one can pop into a bar along the way for some beery relief. We are drawn on and on and down and dirty into a nightscape more From Hell than Oliver The Musical. Peter Ackroyd introduces us to this gas light and flickering music hall world of Victorian clowns and performers, peeling off the make up to reveal the many grinning and gurning skulls beneath. It is not for the faint-hearted...
             That is history for you.Where did a faint heart ever get anybody?