They All Love Jack Review

[Herlock Sholmes]

Ha! I'm on the other side of the fence on this one.

I loved that book.

Do I think it was Michael Maybrick whodunit?

No chance, but I really enjoyed the story telling and writing.

It was enjoyable to read even though I found his style a little strange.

[Ms Diddles]

Opinions differ of course but my review of They All Love Jack would be much shorter.

”Conspiracist junk.”

Ha! I'm on the other side of the fence on this one.

I loved that book.

Do I think it was Michael Maybrick whodunit?

No chance, but I really enjoyed the story telling and writing.

[Herlock Sholmes]

Opinions differ of course but my review of They All Love Jack would be much shorter.

”Conspiracist junk.”

[kwanitaka]

Hi kwanitaka,

Before continuing, could you please decide on the author's surname.

Regards,

Simon

After all I wrote, you criticize a small misspelling of the name of the author? You must have constant mini strokes reading newspapers online. Even the NYT has misspellings. Have you ever read Daily Mail UK? It’s hilarious the amount of errors. But good luck contacting all the sites with misspellings. You are right of course and I am sorry I offended you. Now, should I check everything you posted here?

[caz]

Hello Caz,

Slow down. You appear to be getting a little paranoid. So before the white van arrives to speed you away to a lonely place where everything is as calm as nembutal, grab some of your favourite highland hooch and repeat the mantra—"A bottle in front of me is better than a frontal lobotomy."

Hi Simon,

I'm so sorry you needed that mantra yourself. I was introduced at the age of fifteen to Cuba Libre, so I've been chilled ever since. And that's a looong time. I can't even remember when I last took a headache tablet, so I have no use for chill pills.

I know the diary wasn't written by James Maybrick or his brother Michael. I don't know [and really don't care] if it was transcribed by Mike Barrett, his wife, their lodger, or the guy who came around on Thursdays to clean out the parrot cage.

That's grand, Simon. Better than believing it was written by Mike Barrett's ambidextrous wife over 11 days in April 1992. That would be just asking for the white van to whisk you off.

But I do have a shrewd idea who conceived it.

However, my lips must remain sealed. Maybe, in true Victorian fashion, I'll leave behind a ribbon-bound and wax-sealed envelope.

By the way, the "real deal" is the genuine article.

You always send love to your correspondents, so allow me to reciprocate.

Love,

Simon

That's very sweet of you. I have lots of love to give everyone I correspond with. I put it down to the rum and coke, and more recently the Freddy Fudpuckers.

Let me reassure you that your shrewd idea is one that has been under investigation for many years and I can certainly see why your lips have to remain superglued [I presume your highland hooch is administered intravenously?]. Names can't be named, obviously, as your idea concerns four authors – half of them dead and the other half presumably brain dead. I'm sure you also have a shrewd idea of why on earth this quadrumvirate chose to involve Mike Barrett, and how they got the diary into his hands.

Do you have a shrewd idea that evidence of a modern hoax will therefore have been destroyed?

Oh, sorry, I nearly forgot your superglued lips.

Have a fun weekend with the IV drip.

Love,

Caz
X

[Simon Wood]

Hello Caz,

Slow down. You appear to be getting a little paranoid. So before the white van arrives to speed you away to a lonely place where everything is as calm as nembutal, grab some of your favourite highland hooch and repeat the mantra—"A bottle in front of me is better than a frontal lobotomy."

I know the diary wasn't written by James Maybrick or his brother Michael. I don't know [and really don't care] if it was transcribed by Mike Barrett, his wife, their lodger, or the guy who came around on Thursdays to clean out the parrot cage.

But I do have a shrewd idea who conceived it.

However, my lips must remain sealed. Maybe, in true Victorian fashion, I'll leave behind a ribbon-bound and wax-sealed envelope.

By the way, the "real deal" is the genuine article.

You always send love to your correspondents, so allow me to reciprocate.

Love,

Simon

[caz]

Hi Caz,

By Diarist, I was referring to those who, twenty-something years on, cling to the stubborn belief that the diary is the real deal.

That's all.

Be well.

Simon

Really? I'd never have guessed, dear Simon.

How many are we talking, and what do you mean by the 'real deal'?

A belief - even a stubborn one - would still be a belief, and I can't imagine anyone would be insane enough to come to this place and pretend to cling to a belief that would invite such scorn, while suspecting or believing deep down that the diary was a modern Barrett creation.

I've been called a diary defender, who is suspected on the one hand of secretly believing the diary was written by James Maybrick, but refusing to admit it [presumably because I'd get even more grief than I already do for merely rejecting the Barretts as hoaxers], while on the other hand of secretly knowing the Barretts were behind it, but refusing to admit that either, for some unfathomable reason. I don't know how I am meant to hold both positions, when in fact I hold neither, but there we are. Diary world is full of such imponderables. But I do know I bring a little bell with me and shout "unclean" for daring to go against the status quo [despite the fact they did a cracking number about Sweet Caroline] that has Mike Barrett down as capable of producing a hoax, which anyone in their right mind would have seen through instantly had he actually done so.

Love,

Caz
X

[rjpalmer]

In regards to this curious belief in the diary, the only thing I can figure is that these earnest believers must hear a tone of menace or rage in the text of the diary that is so compelling to them, and so real, that they circumvent the more critical centers of their brain. Rational argument will not move them; they can still hear this 'real' rage, and thus believe us skeptical types are simply dense fools that can't appreciate what they are hearing.

I confess I can't pick up the necessary vibration of belief. I am deaf to the diary's menace and plausibility, just as I am deaf to what I am being told are the many excellencies of the **** that now passes for good music.

[Simon Wood]

Hi Caz,

By Diarist, I was referring to those who, twenty-something years on, cling to the stubborn belief that the diary is the real deal.

That's all.

Be well.

Simon

[caz]

Hi Simon,

By diarist, I assume you mean Michael Barrett, the compulsive liar?

I'm surprised you'd need to go that extra mile to try and penetrate his skull in 2020. He died in 2016, but said he was the diarist in 1994. Wasn't that good enough for you?

Love,

Caz
X

[Simon Wood]

Dear Cheeky Caz,

Often one has to go that extra mile in an attempt to penetrate the skull of a diarist.

Carpe Vinum.

Simon

[caz]

Yeah, I knew you had your tongue firmly in your cheek, dear Simon. I just wondered why you were trying so hard to make the genuinely implausible so much more implausible than it needed to be.

Hope you are well too.

Love,

Cheeky Caz
XX

[Simon Wood]

Dear Caz,

". . . the diary is not even in JM's handwriting and there is no evidence to connect him with the murders in London."

I couldn't agree with you more.

Note to self— must press tongue more firmly into cheek when writing anything more about the nonsensical "diary."

Trust you're well.

Regards,

Simon

[caz]

Hi Simon,

Strange argument to make when the diary is not even in JM's handwriting and there is no evidence to connect him with the murders in London.

I wonder if our hoaxer would be disappointed by such a lack of imagination. Is the central figure, 'Sir Jim', not permitted to have loosened a floorboard under the bed while he still had the strength needed to down several Whitechapel unfortunates, and used the void as a regular hiding place, long before the real James Maybrick became sick unto death?

There would be no need for hammer or nails in May 1889, and the expectation would be that sooner or later, someone would have reason to lift that floorboard again and the demon diary would emerge, yawning and blinking in the daylight. How many tenants, tourists and tradesmen do you imagine tramped round Battlecrease House between 1889 and 9th March 1992, when floorboards were lifted in the real James Maybrick's bedroom, quickly followed the same day by Mike Barrett's phone call to a London literary agent, to reveal the diary's existence, but not yet its supposed author?

If Mike was told nothing about where the diary came from or who had written it, might that explain why he seemed terrified and out of his depth in those early days, according to Shirley Harrison, despite the fact he already had an agent and author on board, eating out of his hand after seeing the old book on 13th April? Might it explain why he was very anxious to have his name, and Tony Devereux's, kept out of it, when Shirley said she was going to involve the Liverpool press? Was he more worried about the reaction from Tony's family, or from the person who had sold him the old book for £25?

Love,

Caz
X

[Simon Wood]

Hi Scott,

Maybrick signed the diary on 3rd May 1889 and died on 11th May 1889, which gave him time to climb from his sick bed, fetch a claw hammer, lever up a floorboard, hide the diary, replace the floorboard and hammer the nails back into place, return the hammer and climb back into bed, all without making a sound or otherwise attracting attention.

Hope you're well.

Simon