Thanks, I'll order it right away. What a fascinating topic for a book.
I wonder if the argument is similar to the one I made in a Rip' carticle a few years ago called 'Safely Caged' in which Macnaghten, the arch propagandist, was determined that English Jews not be targeted or embarrassed -- even by the tragic truth that it was one of their own.
I guess I'll find out.
To Simon
I totally agree. Mac was there and I think following the crimes avidly in his schoolboyish way via his clubby connections.
It is not appreciated how much 'Laying the Ghost ...' is a subtle polemic against Anderson's memoirs and claims about the Ripper. He shreds them. Anderson had not identified Jack as a mad Jew because the murderer was a Gentile, he killed himself, there was no super-witness and we did not know about his indentity until years later (and it was me who figured it out).
I love this bit:
'No one who was living in London that autumn will forget the terror created by these murders. Even now I can recall the foggy evenings, and hear again the raucous cries of the newspaper boys : " Another horrible murder, murder, mutilation, Whitechapel." Such was the burden of their ghastly song ; and, when the double murder of 30th September took place, the exasperation of the public at the non-discovery of the perpetrator knew no bounds ...'
As in, I was there and not on holiday.
He also claims to have been hands-on about Whitechapel once he was there; the affable toff amongst the lowest dregs and their repulsive toasted bloaters -- some of whom are not even married!?:
'I remember being down in Whitechapel one night in September 1889, in connection with what was known as the Pinchin Street murder, and being in a doss house, entered the large common room where the inmates were allowed to do their cooking. The code of immorality in the East End is, or was, unwashed in its depths of degradation. A woman was content to live with a man so long as he was in work, it .being an understood thing that, if he lost his job, she would support him by the only means open to her. On this occasion the unemployed man was - toasting bloaters, and, when his lady returned, asked her "if she had had any luck." She replied with an adjective negative, and went on to say in effect that she had thought her lucky star was in the ascendant when she had inveigled a "bloke " down a dark alley, but that suddenly a detective, with indiarubber soles to his shoes, had' sprung up from behind a waggon, and the bloke had taken fright and flight. With additional adjectives the lady expressed her determination to go out again after supper, and when her man reminded her o; the dangers of the streets if " he " (meaning the murderer) was out and about, the poor woman replied (with no adjectives this time), " Well, let him come-the sooner the better for such as I." A sordid picture, my masters, but what infinite pathos is therein portrayed!'
The underlying point is Macnaghten could not tell this poor woman that she had at least nothing to fear from the fiend, because he was six months deceased -- because neither he nor anybody else knew that yet outside the Druitt family.
I wonder if the argument is similar to the one I made in a Rip' carticle a few years ago called 'Safely Caged' in which Macnaghten, the arch propagandist, was determined that English Jews not be targeted or embarrassed -- even by the tragic truth that it was one of their own.
I guess I'll find out.
To Simon
I totally agree. Mac was there and I think following the crimes avidly in his schoolboyish way via his clubby connections.
It is not appreciated how much 'Laying the Ghost ...' is a subtle polemic against Anderson's memoirs and claims about the Ripper. He shreds them. Anderson had not identified Jack as a mad Jew because the murderer was a Gentile, he killed himself, there was no super-witness and we did not know about his indentity until years later (and it was me who figured it out).
I love this bit:
'No one who was living in London that autumn will forget the terror created by these murders. Even now I can recall the foggy evenings, and hear again the raucous cries of the newspaper boys : " Another horrible murder, murder, mutilation, Whitechapel." Such was the burden of their ghastly song ; and, when the double murder of 30th September took place, the exasperation of the public at the non-discovery of the perpetrator knew no bounds ...'
As in, I was there and not on holiday.
He also claims to have been hands-on about Whitechapel once he was there; the affable toff amongst the lowest dregs and their repulsive toasted bloaters -- some of whom are not even married!?:
'I remember being down in Whitechapel one night in September 1889, in connection with what was known as the Pinchin Street murder, and being in a doss house, entered the large common room where the inmates were allowed to do their cooking. The code of immorality in the East End is, or was, unwashed in its depths of degradation. A woman was content to live with a man so long as he was in work, it .being an understood thing that, if he lost his job, she would support him by the only means open to her. On this occasion the unemployed man was - toasting bloaters, and, when his lady returned, asked her "if she had had any luck." She replied with an adjective negative, and went on to say in effect that she had thought her lucky star was in the ascendant when she had inveigled a "bloke " down a dark alley, but that suddenly a detective, with indiarubber soles to his shoes, had' sprung up from behind a waggon, and the bloke had taken fright and flight. With additional adjectives the lady expressed her determination to go out again after supper, and when her man reminded her o; the dangers of the streets if " he " (meaning the murderer) was out and about, the poor woman replied (with no adjectives this time), " Well, let him come-the sooner the better for such as I." A sordid picture, my masters, but what infinite pathos is therein portrayed!'
The underlying point is Macnaghten could not tell this poor woman that she had at least nothing to fear from the fiend, because he was six months deceased -- because neither he nor anybody else knew that yet outside the Druitt family.
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