I have a confession to make. Are you ready for this? Okay, here goes:
I don’t know who Jack the Ripper was. In fact, I don’t even really have much of an opinion about his identity.
There. I’m sorry about this,really I am. It must be such a disappointment to all the hundreds of people who’ve asked me who my ‘favourite’ suspect is only to be regaled with the spectacle (either in real life or online) of me shuffling my feet, ummming a bit then either changing the subject or, most often, embarking on a rant that follows the same general path as the blog post I am currently trying to write.
Yes, I still self identify (very much in fact) as a Ripperologist BUT unlike a lot of my fellow Ripper obsessives, I am not actually all that interested in uncovering the identity of the murderer who stalked the streets of Whitechapel all those years ago. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not totally uninterested, but it’s not the major focus of my attention.
No. You see, for me, the main interest is the victims rather than the killer. I want to know more about their lives, about the world they inhabited and about the unfortunate circumstances that brought them to their fate. In fact, I find them endlessly fascinating.
It didn’t occur to me that my interest in the Ripper’s victims was anything unusual until I was talking to a friend recently and she mentioned how much she had enjoyed my blog posts about the Ripper’s murders and in particular all the detail about the lives of the victims themselves, whose names and circumstances she had not previously known. It was only then that it occured to me that whereas most people know the name of Jack the Ripper, as he has come to be known, not many could tell you the names of the women whose lives he so wrongly and cruelly took.
I’ll admit that the rich history of the area, the awful fact that thousands lived in the most harsh poverty in the capital city of an Empire and, most tenuously, the gaslit foggy ambience of the tale are all really compelling but the identity of the elusive Ripper? No, not so much.
Of course, if you really press me, I’ll come up with a name or two but I’m not ferociously keen on any suspect in particular. You won’t catch me going all mental like Patricia Cornwell to prove anyone’s guilt. No, that’s not me at all.
Ah, okay, you want names do you? Well, right now, and you have to remember that I am writing this while I am in the midst of my research for my book about the Ripper’s last victim, Mary Jane Kelly, I would say that my head says that Dr Tumblety is the one, while my heart has a bad feeling about that George Hutchinson.
So there you have it.
As autumn slides away into winter and November passes into December, I’ll be having a gin tonight for Mary Ann, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine and Mary Jane.
Excellent post. It’s amazing how many Ripperologists skirt around the issues of naming a suspect so that they may concentrate on the lives of the victims, the geography of the East End, and the history, politics, and socio economic aspects of the case.
Hello again! I’ve already commented on Facebook but am glad it isn’t just me! I’ve felt really sheepish about this for ages so it was a relief to write it all down! ;)
My thoughts exactly, the Whitechapel murders provide us with the opportunity to explore them in the context of the social and economic climate of the late 19th century. Too many “Ripperologists’ spend far too much time and effort proposing ‘suspects” who have little or no credibility. We have to be thankful that these people do not have the opportunity to sit on a jury where capital punishment would have been the outcome. Find the murderer and the industry collapses, except you can imagine the tabloid press when his unfortunate descendants are traced. Great site.
Thank you! :)
Oh I am so glad you said this – I always worry that I spend too little time thinking about suspects and too much studying the victims and area. Other Ripperologists that I have encountered seem to be so into the whole ‘amateur detective’ aspect of the case, but that doesn’t really appeal to me. I mean, of course, we’d all like that eureka moment or to come across a diary or letter that lays the mystery to rest once and for all but ultimately that’s not what really interests me!
I always think that Patricia Cornwell’s documentary (and presumably book, although I’ve never read it) offer a very salutory example of the dangers of getting too caught up in trying to prove someone’s guilt. It made for upsetting and uncomfortable viewing because it was obvious that some poor man’s reputation was being run into the ground for no good reason. :/
This is my attitude, too. I’m not much of a detective (if I were, I’d write crime), and given that whoever the Ripper was, he can no longer be brought to justice, I don’t feel a pressing need to identify him. It won’t bring his victims back (sadly), or save anyone from suffering the same fate.
Very true! :)
I agree with this,
I find the effect the murders had on impoverished Whitechapel more interesting.
i can’t remember who said it, or the exact quote, but it was something along the lines of;
‘The Whitechapel murderer did more to shine a light on the circumstances of the poor slum dwellers in the area than any politician, philanthropist or charity at the time’
Which is a sad state of affairs.
Oh definitely – the social aspects of the case are so much more interesting than any ‘who dunnit’!
That is so sad but true. It’s hard to imagine people living in such abject poverty in one of the richest countries of the world, the capital of an Empire in fact. It’s just disgusting and so strange that people at the time didn’t realise. :/
I couldn’t agree more. I too have a “Ripper” fascination. But, like you, my focus is his victims. Especially Mary Kelly. I am intrigued that you’re writing about her and would like to hear more :)
Rose
I’m glad that other people are interested in her. I’ll let you know how it is going on! :)