I’m the author of two published books, the graphic novel Giraffes in my Hair: A Rock’n’Roll Life (Fantagraphics, 2010), a series of tales written in collaboration with my partner the cartoonist Carol Swain that chronicles my youthful misadventures in my native New York and elsewhere, and Jack the Ripper: The Simple Truth (what can I say, I like colons!). Originally published by Headline here in the UK, The Simple Truth was recently named the best book ever written on the subject by The Journal of the Whitechapel Society, essentially echoing “Ripperologist” Colin Wilson’s words in the foreword he wrote for the book: “If I had to recommend a single book on Jack the Ripper to someone who knew nothing about the subject, I would unhesitatingly choose this one. Bruce Paley has captured the atmosphere of Whitechapel at the time of the murders – and indeed, of London in the late 19th century – with a sense of living reality that no other writer on the case has achieved.” Similarly, Val Hennessy in the Daily Mail wrote: “Bruce Paley’s excellent book convinces me, for one, that The Ripper has at last been nailed….Paley’s book paints an extraordinarily vivid picture of late 19th century London.” To receive such glowing accolades is a rare honour as there have been thousands of books and articles written on this most infamous of all unsolved murder cases – indeed, the name Jack the Ripper exudes a certain morbid fascination and has entered the collective unconscious as an archetype of pure, bloodcurdling evil, an English bogeyman right up there with Dracula, or even Frankenstein, and there’s no sign of interest in the case abating. After a seven year run, my book went out of print, and Headline graciously transferred the rights back to me. Earlier this year I put the book on Kindle, where it is now available at £1.71/$2.80 (the lowest prices Kindle would allow). I have since completed one novel, a London-set crime thriller (working title: A Dog to Kick), and am in the planning stages of another, a satire to be entitled The Obrovský Theatre Co. of Blaznivyzeme, both of which I intend to put on Kindle at some point. Also recently completed is a sort of travelogue-cum-memoir entitled Cow Charmers and Wonder Dogs: A Pembrokeshire Diary, which is currently with a Welsh publisher. I’m happy to discuss Giraffes or any of the others, as time allows, and may post excerpts from them at some point but as I'm best known for my Ripper book, that's one I shall concentrate on for the moment.
To those unfamiliar with my book, my theory - which I first proposed in letters to Colin Wilson and Donald Rumbelow back in 1976 – is that Jack the Ripper was Joseph Barnett, a 30-year-old local fish porter and the boyfriend of Mary Kelly, the Ripper’s final victim, who was killed by Jack the Ripper just 10 days after she and Barnett split up, in the room the couple had previously shared. The motive? Sexual obsession and jealousy. Among other innovations, I was the first to propose Barnett as the Ripper, and also the first to retrospectively apply modern detecting methods to the case, specifically the FBI’s methodology in regards to serial killers; I believe I was also the first Ripperologist to consult all the available newspapers of the time (as opposed to the select popular few used by most researchers on the subject), and the first to utilise specific employment, census, work, death, and sewage records. I also chose not to rely too heavily upon anything contained in previous Ripper books but rather to use contemporary sources instead where possible. Obviously it’s impossible to sum up a 268-page book in a few sentences, so I would refer anyone who wants to know more about my work to the book itself, which for the dwindling number of you who remain Kindleless (like it or not kiddo, they're the future) can still be purchased through websites such as abebooks.co.uk or Amazon. I should point out however, that I haven’t actually kept up with developments in the Ripper world for a good many years. Finally publishing my book after more than a decade of obsessive research was like an exorcism for me: I got the demon out of my system, and moved on. And unlike most other Ripperologists, I couldn’t give a fig if people believe my theory is correct or if I've really identified the Ripper. I feel I've presented my work as best I could, and now it’s for others to judge whether I've succeeded or not. I have a life, and other interests: 60s and 70s rock music, blues and country music, books, films, art (though not the pretentious contemporary wank scene), photography, the Beats, the 60s ethos, Paris, poetry, politics, nature, wildlife, the countryside, Carol’s graphic novels (she’s one of the very few to bring a genuine literary intelligence and sensibility to the genre), and so on. I'm a long time vegetarian, I love animals, less so people, and while I find the death penalty abhorrent, I would consider making an exception for Tony Blair. I have a lot of opinions too.
That aside, I would like to point out two key aspects of the Ripper case which I feel have been largely and oddly ignored. The first concerns the initial Jack the Ripper letters (a letter and postcard, actually, but henceforth referred to as “the letters”). Of the dozens of cards and letters received by the police and press in their wake, these are probably the only ones actually written by the Ripper himself. They are reproduced here as written, mistakes and all:
25 Sept. 1888
Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldnt you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work then give it out straight. My knifes so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good luck. Yours truly, Jack the Ripper.
Dont mind me giving the trade name.
wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it. They say Im a doctor now ha ha.
This was followed by a postcard, undated, but bearing a 1 October postmark:
I wasnt codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip. Youll hear about saucy jackys work tomorrow. double event this time number one squealed a bit couldnt finish straight off. Had no time to get ears for police thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again.
Jack the Ripper.
Unless things have changed, the general consensus seems to be that these were a hoax, written by a reporter to boost newspaper sales when interest in the case began to flag. But for any number of reasons this is a ludicrous assertion. For one, if they were written by a reporter, why did he send them to the Central News Agency, rather than the newspaper he presumably worked for? There were some 30 daily and weekly journals available in London at the time, so competition for readers was fierce. As such, the exclusive publication of so sensational a potential prize – letters from the killer himself! - could have been a huge sales boon for the paper concerned. Yet the letters were sent to a press agency, from whence they would be circulated to the agency’s various subscribing newspapers, denying any single paper the scoop. Secondly, the writer didn’t seem to know the actual address of the press agency, addressing his missives to “The Boss, Central News Office, London, City”; surely a reporter would have known the agency’s proper address, or been able to find it out easily enough, rather than risk the letter being delayed, or wrongly delivered? Which brings us to point number three: In April, 1888, a prostitute named Emma Smith was raped and murdered in London's East End by a person or persons unknown. A few months later, on 7 August, a second prostitute, Martha Tabram, was found murdered around 100 yards from where Smith had been found; neither perpetrator was ever apprehended. As it happens, neither woman had actually been killed by Jack the Ripper, but in the wake of the subsequent murders elements of the press and public lumped the various victims together. The Ripper’s first canonical victim as such was Mary Nichols, killed in the early hours of 31 August, and he claimed his second victim, Annie Chapman, just over a week later. Thus there were chronological gaps between the four murders of roughly four months, three and a half weeks, eight days, and then another three weeks, when the Ripper claimed his next two victims, Liz Stride and Catherine Eddowes, both on the night of 29 September. In other words, there was no discernible pattern to the killings, whether including all six victims or only those known to have been killed by the Ripper, and therefore no basis for accurately predicting that the Ripper was about to strike again; even the phases of the moon were different and varied. Yet the letter, dated 25 September and bearing a postmark of 27 September, a Thursday, distinctly stated that there would be another murder imminently: “You will soon hear of me with my funny little games…” As can be seen, the follow-up postcard referred directly to various aspects of the letter. As both were posted over the weekend, few people, if any, would have actually been able to have seen them or been aware of them at that point, so there is little doubt that they had both been written by the same hand. To assume that they were written by a reporter, or someone other than the Ripper himself, begs the question as to how the writer could have known something that only the killer would have known for certain, i.e., that he was about to commit a murder? Are we to believe that it was simply a hunch, a lucky guess that there would be another murder in the next day or two? If so, then I'd have liked this fellow to pick my lottery numbers for me, because his psychic abilities are nothing short of uncanny. Significantly, the writer notes that “number one squealed a bit”, though there is no indication of anyone else having heard any screams that night. So why mention it then, unless it was true? Only the killer would have and could have known if his first victim of the night, Elizabeth Stride, had managed to cry out before he murdered her. It may even be that he assumed her scream had been heard, either by the people singing inside the adjoining building, a Jewish club, or by the driver of a horse and cart, whose sudden approach forced the Ripper to flee before his “work” was finished, incidentally preventing him from keeping his promise to “clip” his victim’s ears off as he said he would do in his letter. Thus he sought a second victim, and as it turns out, an attempt had indeed been made to sever her ears. As the police surgeon reported, a small piece of Catherine Eddowes’ ear had indeed been sliced off, but not removed from the scene. But at that time only the killer would have known that he had in fact tried to fulfil his promise but had failed.
Lastly, it’s worth considering what may have been had the predicted murder not occurred after all, in which case the letters would have been rendered meaningless, for it is only the murder itself that authenticates them and gives them any significance. Without the murder the letters would have simply been ignored and we never would have heard of them, or the name Jack the Ripper.
So there you have it, Mystery #1, to be followed at some future point with a discussion of Mystery #2, The Case of the Locked Door.
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