They All Love Jack

by Bruce Robinson

LONGLISTED FOR THE SAMUEL JOHNSON PRIZE FOR NON-FICTIONA book like no other – the tale of a gripping quest to discover the identity of history’s most notorious murderer and a literary high-wire act from the legendary writer and director of Withnail and I.For over a hundred years, ‘the mystery of Jack the Ripper’ has been a source of unparalleled fascination and horror, spawning an army of obsessive theorists, and endless volumes purporting finally to reveal the identity of the brutal murderer who terrorised Victorian England.But what if there was never really any ‘mystery’ at all? What if the Ripper was always hiding in plain sight, deliberately leaving a trail of clues to his identity for anyone who cared to look, while cynically mocking those who were supposedly attempting to bring him to justice?In THEY ALL LOVE JACK, the award-winning film director and screenwriter Bruce Robinson exposes the cover-up that enabled one of history’s most notorious serial killers to remain at large. More than twelve years in the writing, this is much more than a radical reinterpretation of the Jack the Ripper legend, and an enthralling hunt for the killer. A literary high-wire act reminiscent of Tom Wolfe or Hunter S. Thompson, it is an expressionistic journey through the cesspools of late-Victorian society, a phantasmagoria of highly placed villains, hypocrites and institutionalised corruption.Polemic, forensic investigation, panoramic portrait of an age, underpinned by deep scholarship and delivered in Robinson’s inimitably vivid and scabrous prose, THEY ALL LOVE JACK is an absolutely riveting and unique book, demolishing the theories of generations of self-appointed experts – the so-called ‘Ripperologists’ – to make clear, at last, who really did it; and more importantly, how he managed to get away with it for so long.

Genres: True Crime, Nonfiction, History, Crime, Audiobook, Mystery, Historical

864 pages, Paperback

First published October 6, 2015

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
Bruce Robinson is an English director, screenwriter, novelist and actor. He is arguably most famous for writing and directing the cult classic Withnail and I (1986), a film with comic and tragic elements set in London in the 1960s, which drew on his experiences as 'a chronic alcoholic and resting actor, living in squalor' in Camden Town. He is married to Sophie Windham, children's author and illustrator, and has contributed to some of her books. A book of interviews with Robinson, edited by Alistair Owen, is published as Smoking in Bed: Conversations with Bruce Robinson

Reviews

[``Laurie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I probably wouldn't have read this book about Jack the Ripper if not for the fact that Bruce Robinson was the author. Have you ever heard of Bruce Robinson? In the 1968 Zefferelli, film version of Romeo and Juliet, Robinson played Romeo's best buddy Benvolio. Still don't remember? Here's a few photos to refresh your memory.







Ok, I was 13 when I saw that film and I thought he was gorgeous as a young man. Sadly, his alcohol addiction ruined his good looks and probably his acting career so he started writing screenplays receiving rave reviews for his movie "Withnail and I" based on his experiences as a young actor in the Swinging London of the 60's. i didn't care for this movie too much as it showed 2 young actors drinking themselves to death.

But anyway, back to Jack. This nearly 800 page tome is meticulously researched and brings a lot of hidden things to light. Robinson believes that Jack was a Freemason since the Ripper's murders all copied Freemasonic ritual murder punishments in store for any member betraying the Craft.

After rigorous research of the Freemasons Robinson reveals that all the leading characters in government and the criminal justice system were all Freemasons as well. He thinks this is why the Ripper was never found or why they tried so hard not to find the Ripper. Jack was taunting them all with his high-jinks according to the author.

Robinson becomes quite upset at times as he reveals the wretched lives of the poor Whitechapel victims - angry that more wasn't done to relieve the sufferings of the poor of that era. I completely understand his feelings but that is no reason to use the F word 500 times in anger. In fact, Robinson has quite a vulgar mouth which I found hard to believe since he looked so angelic as a youth.

I don't think it's too much to ask of an author to write books in a civilized manner using good English instead of relying on cursing to make his point.

If you can overlook the foul language you will probably find this book as fascinating as I did.

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bruce Robinson (writer and director of "Withnail & I") spent fifteen years dedicating himself to researching this book, and it shows. I don't know that his candidate for the Ripper is the right one, no one does, but he seems to be in the right family. He proves beyond a doubt that those in power at the time in Victorian England had shady reasons for perpetrating the cover-up they did, silencing the only two witnesses to have seen the man, manipulating coroner's inquests and juries, outright lying, suppressing evidence, some of which to this day is not available to the public, a lot of which has been made to disappear. His history of and background on the Freemasons is fascinating and there's no ignoring that everyone in a position of power with regard to this case was a Mason. Yet the Maybrick brothers, Masons as well, have been scrubbed from the Mason's records; why? As I write this the diary that others have dismissed but Robinson believes to be real is in the news again, and Robinson with it. The man is onto something -- a lot of somethings.

As others have mentioned the language can be vulgar, but in most cases Robinson is using JTR's own words. His disdain for the ruling class and their lies and cover-ups is sometimes expressed in the form of sarcasm, and I enjoyed that. The author is passionate.. His dismissiveness of some of the more prominent "Ripperologists" is comical and also well-placed; for one thing, Robinson proves that some of the letters dismissed as hoaxes were in fact written by the killer.

All in all a fascinating, well-researched, well-documented and well-written book, the best I've read on the Ripper.

[Edward Higgins · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is Bruce Robinson at his best. It is a testament to his writing that this sprawling exposé of the Victorian corruption and the Jack the Ripper investigation entirely sweeps you away in an odd fusion of storytelling and furious invective.

I recall Robinson, in Alistair Owen’s excellent 'Smoking in Bed', remark that he had just completed a ’Ripper script and was irked by the release of (the very middling) 'From Hell'. Evidently, that was the beginning of this journey, and here – 15 years later – this meticulously-researched and very funny book is the result.

Personally, it had me from the first mention of ‘a satchel full of wombs’.

[Randy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I am conflicted about this book.

First, the author presents an excellent theory and candidate for Jack The Ripper. And more than that, I think he helps to resolve many of the "mysteries" that are actually coverups and obfuscations from the elite and Masonic insiders of the day.

However . . .

The author, justifiably, despises the Victorians. He is completely undone by their corruption and hypocrisy. Undone. He takes an initially funny, pissed off voice to attach them. What makes the book initially fresh and interesting quickly becomes unbearable, unreadably frustrating through this long, long book.

Moreover, the author simply cannot lay out a clean, orderly narrative. He jumps about and it is exhausting.

I hope that someone takes up the challenge, uses the author's research and theories, and writes a better book.

Pro: I accept Robinson's nominee as the actual JTR. It all makes so much more sense from this perspective.

Con: I would not inflict this writing on anyone. Wait for the movie (and it would make a good one).

[Bill · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm not sure how many books I've read on the subject of Jack The Ripper over the years (perhaps too many ?), but this is one of the best. At over 800 pages it's not a short read, so I have been reading it in stages over the last four months. Most people will remember Bruce Robinson as the writer & director of the classic film Withnail & I, so what is his take on the Ripper ? Well, his research is incredible. The amount of detail is occasionally overwhelming, but always fascinating. In page after page he tears apart the myth of Jack The Ripper & puts together a very convincing arguement as to the killer's identity. While I may not be totally convinced with his solution it is a very credible one. Robinson doesn't pull any punches with his language either, but his use of swearing & slang do not detract in any way from his authoritative voice. Along with the excellent The Complete Jack The Ripper by Donald Rumbelow this is one of the definitive books on the subject......unless, of course, someone else comes up with another one in the future.

[Christine · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wanted to like this, but I hate, HATE, Robinson's style. I really don't understand the need for the cursing or name calling. I truly don't. But I really want to know who romanticizes the Victorian era, outside of romance novelists. Because I don't know any reputable historian that does, as Robinson seems to claim. Robinson seems to hate English people, in particular of the Victorian era, because they are violent. How did this get a hardcover run is beyond me.

[Antonomasia]

It's difficult to overestimate how much I wanted to love this book. Eight hundred pages of Bruce Robinson...oh, wow. I even wrote a squee-ing pre-release review, and I [otherwise] never do that. Although I've taken months to finish the book, ever since publication I've been checking reviews and ratings, hoping that it's doing well with others. Like supporting a team that's not playing their best, you may still badly want them to win, even if those wins happen by a series of flukes or odd refereeing decisions that you don't think the performance as a whole truly deserved.

Reading They All Love Jack was at times an exercise in learning to understand noisy, rabid internet fandoms - like Doctor Who and Sherlock - when they pour forth questions and criticisms that made a semi-outsider like me wonder "why watch the damn thing in the first place if you don't like it?" I think I got some idea about all the love and personal meaning, and a kind of possessiveness, that from the inside, at my age, feels wrong. Those same contemporary fan cultures are usually clear that possessiveness between characters is fucked-up: when person A wants person B to be the way A would like, rather than A being comfortable with B being themselves. But the fandom-fans are often possessive of the TV series in a similar way, wanting it to do and show the right things, whether it's politically or artistically - 'the right things' being what they'd script. Although the programme is an independent entity, this type of fan has made it part of their own identity, and online comments show that changes and new storylines affect whether someone is proud or disappointed to call themselves a fan.

I'd never been that interested in Jack the Ripper. But as preparation for this book, I did watch a handful of episodes of Ripper Street, and read a fair bit on the casebook.org site. From that and a couple of other online sources, I decided back in summer 2014 that the most plausible known suspects were, in no particular order: Bury, Chapman and Tumblety, though the history and content of the Maybrick diaries, and associated items (the watch etc.) merited consideration. [Thing I hate most about Ripper material, and which was hard to get away from on that site: seeing the photographs of the dead women frequently. It's obvious their pictures were never taken while they were alive, a reflection of the times, technology, poverty and social attitudes. But it was still horrid to see repeatedly. I read They All Love Jack on a basic e-ink reader, which made it easy not to look closely at the very grimmest stuff, like pictures of the dead Mary Kelly.]
Ripperology has long been a notorious crank subculture, and the online forums were fascinating to read, for a few hours, at least. By no means does everyone sound like a crank, rooting for their favourite suspect whilst ignoring holes and uncertainties in the case. Some do think the case will never be solved; some bring what looks like professional-style rigour to a micro-study (such as a recent book by a descendent of the suspect Chapman).

Blatantly disregarding Updike's first rule of book reviewing, I'd love this to have been partly [a Jon Ronson style?] anthropology of ripperology alongside a portrait of the writer as reluctant ripperologist. It could start with the contrarian's instinctive dislike of ripperology (instead shown throughout this book); then look at its variety more closely, observing things to like and dislike, and the intellectual rabbit hole - or vast warren - it constitutes, the timesink Casaubon project it has been for so many who might have been more productive or interesting on something less hackneyed, all their new writing adding to the burden of secondary sources for those following behind; an emerging acceptance that one perhaps is a sort of ripperologist, examination of the addictive/compulsive nature of the pursuit, and why one is, why people in general, are drawn to it.
Interviews give the impression that Robinson doesn't use the internet: it's obvious why someone who likes a quiet life, and who wants to control their own tendency to get caught up in obsessive research, might avoid it; nevertheless this is a pretty significant obstacle to examining and connecting with 21st century ripperology. (He mentions using a typewriter, and there was only one vague hint in the book towards anything online: the entirely sensible estimate that even these days – let alone 120 years ago – most people wouldn't be familiar with the name of a small foreign magazine.)

I still expected some commentary on the attractions of Ripper research, especially, because, including Smoking in Bed, Robinson is conscious of a need to prove himself against impossible standards, from childhood on. Here he is working for 15 years on the most notorious unsolved mystery in British history. He also has form for lengthy investigation of conspiracies, e.g. in the research for his film script about Robert Oppenheimer, Fat Man and Little Boy, aka Shadowmakers. And years earlier, he seemingly sent himself up, playing on the way researching Victorian serial killers preyed on an anxiety-prone mind, in short story Paranoia In The Launderette, later adapted without official credits as part of the film A Fantastic Fear of Everything. So I assumed similar self-deprecation would be present here: a ruthless questioning of one's own methods and the tendency to apophenia, rather than giving in to it without meticulous examination. But I'm not sure he likes writing narrative about himself directly: he talks to interviewers, he writes scripts, he used third person to write unflattering dark comedy characters based on himself, in Laundrette and The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman. Maybe memoir just isn't his thing.

Rather, after a few chapters of gloriously vigorous ranting about Victorian corruption, Robinson starts on the Ripper case with what I instinctively felt to be the most far-fetched theory in the book, one likely to alienate a few readers: the idea that the pattern of mutilations related to Masonic oaths. (I'd have had less trouble accepting the theory if the victims had been male - and masons, or other men who could have been perceived as having made and broken a promise to their murderer, or resembled a man who had. I think the typical [sexist] Victorian man, let alone a serial killer, regarded women as a different class altogether and it would not have occurred to him to treat a female prostitute as a brother mason who had failed. If, that is, we assume the killer was not in the middle of a complete psychological disintegration that would have precluded repeated organised, effective getaways. I think any mutilations' correlation with Masonic lore is just that, a chance correlation, and they were carried out for whatever more typical reasons serial killers do these things. Likewise, I cannot be persuaded to attach any importance to the spelling of 'Juwes' written on the wall. The Ripper letters as discussed later in the book show ample examples of fake misspellings of simple words by someone who got more advanced vocab correct, and I see no reason not to read it the same way, as mischief re. potential public order problems and probably antiSemitism. In a long interview for this book, I was delighted to read that Robinson had found out who his real father was after all these years - and he was Jewish. Obviously Robinson was aware anyway of anti-Jewish feeling in the Victorian East End, but I couldn't help wonder if knowing about his father earlier might have altered his approach a little.

Another early disappointment was the treatment of the Cleveland Street Scandal. Any other writer would get a full-on, bad-Robinson-impression rant from me for handling the topic this way, but Bruce is forgiven to a significant degree because he never quite recovered from being harrassed and assaulted by predatory gay men during his [extremely pretty] youth. Most people - including several gay & bi men of my acquaintance - don't have any problem with the character of Uncle Monty in Withnail; there will have been men who behaved like that, and undoubtedly there were more of them when gay life was less mainstream. But the way this text equates the corruption of the Cleveland Street affair (it sounds as if all the young men involved had consented, it doesn't seem to have been child abuse) with alleged Jack the Ripper coverups isn't right. It's fair to discuss how people with aristocratic connections blatantly got away with actions that were illegal at the time. That's corruption. But there's also the matter that consensual gay sex, whether or not payment or favours were involved, shouldn't have been illegal. (And if it had been legal, would all those men even have visited rent boys?) In drawing any parallel about corruption, it should be clear that the men involved in Cleveland Street are not being equated with a murderer. I reckon Robinson wanted to cite the framing of Charles Parnell here as well, but it ended up relegated to the appendices, probably at the behest of an editor; I'd have wanted the Cleveland Street story whittled down and rephrased, and mostly replaced in the main text with the Parnell/Piggott events, which read as even more appalling now than when they were discovered, deepening the picture of a rotten society.

Robinson's is a love-it-or-hate-it style among online reviewers. (Before the advent of such beings I had no clue about the 'hate it' side, rants and hatchet-jobs having been a great institution of twentieth-century British arts journalism… and surely one knew not to publish a book or release an album if unable to take it.) It's curious how many find it unacademic, or unprofessional – yet some of the most inspiring university academics I've heard spoke rather like this in person, albeit with marginally less in the way of swearing and sweeping statements; the standard register for books and journals is very different. And that's what, stylistically, makes They Love Jack so interesting once we're away from the most outlandish bits. It's the sort of discourse, the sort that would make Hitchens seem a tad dull and reserved, that's too rarely found in books, so much of it lost to the ether in conversation, or at best, online posts if one stumbles on them. I shan't deny that Robinson's looks (esp. 15-20 years ago... though at nearly 70 he still looks better than many 50-yr-olds) slightly influence just how much I enjoy his writing, finding its wit, boldness and verve positively sexy - without, as with other writers, any tempering via unattractive pictures; but I would like it, ooh, at least 95% as much anyway.
The pungency of the language feels necessary as a way of standing up to horror; the possibility of swearing as armour, as defence, is one of those things some us who swear quite a lot would perhaps rather others didn't realise, the "muscularity" of the language overlaying soft vulnerability somewhere inside. The choice of words to reflect how Victorian society regarded prostitutes, in the manner of free indirect style, seems to have offended a few readers unfamiliar with the narrative form, but from time to time raw compassion appears, all the more emotive for the shift in tone: We can look at the photograph below as if it’s a monstrosity from some long-forgotten sideshow, a waxwork or a work of fantasy. But it isn’t, and it’s horrifying. This was a young woman, poor as dirt, but she had a life, it belonged to her, and the infinite sadism of this most horrendous of murderers has left her like this forever.
In a non-fiction book this length, there are inevitably sometimes several pages between outstanding sentences but - apart from when I stopped for weeks after watching 4 episodes of Hannibal… for me that plus this was serial killer overkill, regardless of what anyone looked like - the style and the promise of more brio, plus actual laughs, kept me going through the rest of the info. (And even distracted from the frankly irritating habit of prefixing masons' names with 'Bro'. Yeah, I get the pun already, they're destructive overgrown Bullingdon frat boys. It's repeated in the manner of a bore who ceaselessly uses a politician's satirical nickname, never varying it with the real one. And Robinson is very, very rarely a bore. Except perhaps about the grapes...) There's no-one else, barring a small number of friends whose writing I really like, for whom I'd have even considered reading a Ripper doorstopper.

The centrepiece of Robinson's case is a stunning analysis of letters. My faith in him returned after all the chuntering about Masonic iconography; In all the interviews and books I've read and films I'd watched, don't think I'd found him intellectually formidable before, aside from humour, but here…
- Best of all is the relation of content in various letters to one another, and playing with words and phrases and oblique allusions. The textual analysis and psychology is rather awesome. Although I think we could have done with systematic mentions of which bits riffed on letters that had been published in newspapers. Drawings in two different letters are quite obviously by the same hand.
- As someone who has different handwritings for various levels of required legibility or contexts, and who also notices their writing change with mood and energy level, I don't need persuading that one person can write differently, whilst small similarities in letter shapes may show up. (I think pressure may be significant but a) you can't see it on photos, and b) little idea how that worked pre-biros. I wondered if there were different 'families' of writing among the letters. He didn't even mention the possible influence of habitually writing musical notation on the little wings on some letters, which would have added to his case.)
- If a diagram were to be made of the book's argument, the very centre would be the forensic analysis of the part kidney sent to local vigilante George Lusk, extremely likely to have been Eddowes' given disease, and the accompanying 'From Hell' letter. Then it would be a matter of seeing which of the more questionable, letters related in a web. The address to send Lusk's letter may have been obtained by a tall man who would fit the description of Robinson's favoured suspect Michael Maybrick. However, the other witness descriptions Robinson considers reliable are not always consistent, particularly on suspect height. I think a 6 footer would have really stood out in a slum full of undernourished people.
- The explanation of how letters could be posted on mail trains at stations and ships in port, thus making them seem to have come from somewhere else, even the USA, was fascinating and ingenious. Unfortunately lists of Maybrick's tour dates for autumn 1888 are not given (not extant?).
- The relationship to M.Maybrick of words & phrases in letters made me exclaim out loud more than once: Conduit Street 'diggings', his former residence, where police chief Warren had also worked on archaeological research, and a signature 'May_bee', interpreted as an audacious play on Maybrick@Toynbee Hall. I began to understand why some intelligent people were prepared to accept (as here) or seriously consider Robinson's theory, and how it got onto the Samuel Johnson Prize longlist - this is an analysis that will appeal to literary types, and one I think others would do well to use signficant elements of - and I now felt it wasn't terribly unreasonable after all for the author to think he might have 'got him'.
- A couple of the letters feel unconvincingly overinterpreted; for instance the commentary on the one signed 'Andy Handy', when compared with the text, sounds like too much has been read into it.
- I'm conscious of what I don't know, and Victorian history is not my area. How common were some of the trademark wordplays and references? Where might people have got them, maybe newspapers or music hall songs? (No crosswords yet.) How often did late Victorian people in general fail to use stamps on letters (a habit of both the Ripper and M.Maybrick)? How often did they hand write 'On Her Majesty's Service'? And were these trademarks made public? There is no mention of the individuals who were arrested as hoax letter writers or of whether any of the letters mentioned here were ever ascribed to them. It is not clear how many letters Robinson considers genuine.
I've seen it asked why Maybrick didn't write lyrics professionally, only tunes, if he was adept with wordplay – but that isn't the same as an easy talent for writing lines that scan, so it's neither here nor there.

There are a couple of other significant and persuasive features of Robinson's case that one can't be quite sure of without extensive knowledge of specialist historical context. There was something apparently very strange going on with the persistent suppression of witnesses such as Lawende and Packer, and sloppiness with (or wilful misuse of) evidence, and poor policing. Some of this I find easy to put down to sheer laziness, poor decision-making, and a systemic disrespect for the safety and opinions of working class people. The consistency with which useful evidence is disregarded appears to be odd, more than merely slapdash, but how does it look in the context of a large number of inquests and police investigations from, say, a decade either side? How out of the ordinary was it? It's clear that the Florence Maybrick case (on which more commentators are inclined to accept M.Maybrick's culpability) was singular and there are numerous quotes from the time indicating that. Whereas the trial of William Barrit for the murder of Johnnie Gill looks like the sort of thing everyone is used to from crime fiction, far less like a real conspiracy: chief super said we've got to charge someone, poor bloke was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It also appears very odd the extent to which James and Michael Maybrick had been expunged from records: both from some Masonic records, Michael not mentioned in autobiographies and musical encyclopaedias that far less successful contemporaries were: his London associates, in writing at least, went silent about him in the early 1890s. But what other reasons might there have been for this apart from being known by gossip to be the Ripper (or his brother)? Might it just have been because of Florence Maybrick? And/or because Michael was thought to be gay, as it's hinted several times? (Have there even been any recorded serial killers whose primary sexual attraction was towards men but who killed [mostly] women?) Impending sexual scandal alone might explain why M. Maybrick suddenly married his older housekeeper and left London for the Isle of Wight, from where it would also be easy to flee abroad if necessary. Bloody difficult to research absence, but did comparable others also disappear from records? Can we work out why they did?

Last paragraphs of this post are in Comment #2. Quotes from the first half of the book are in the status updates.

[Nigeyb · Rating 5 out of 5]

'They All Love Jack: Busting the Ripper' is the second book I have read in 2017 that exposes breathtaking levels of corruption within the British establishment. The other is the excellent 'A Very English Scandal' (about “the Thorpe affair”).

In 2016 I also read 'In Plain Sight: The Life and Lies of Jimmy Savile'. A book that reveals how Savile's relationships with members of the Royal family, and then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, helped him to get away with abuse on a horrendous scale.

Factor in the decades long fight for justice by the bereaved families of the victims of the Hillsborough tragedy, and numerous other cover ups we can all recall, and we could all be forgiven for thinking this is just business as usual.

Bruce Robinson chronicles a forensic examination of the Jack The Ripper "mystery" and concludes there is no mystery. He fingers the killer and the reasons the establishment suppressed evidence, stymied police investigations, and perverted justice to allow him to remain untouched. All the while the killer sent numerous letters to the police stating what he had done, and would do. It's astounding.

'They All Love Jack: Busting the Ripper' is a whopping 850 pages and is both exhaustive and exhausting - but necessarily so - and by the end the reader is left in no doubt that Bruce Robinson has uncovered the truth. Jack the Ripper's mutilations were inspired by the occult mythology of Freemasonry. Senior police officers and coroners - Masons to a man - were therefore keen to conceal this aspect of his crimes. The Ripper's murders mocked and perverted masonic rituals and beliefs, and were clearly the work of a Mason.

Needless to say, uncovering this after 15 years of research has made Bruce Robinson very angry and his righteous indignation, complete with ripe language and furious invective, might not be to everyone's taste but I found it entirely appropriate.

[Jeff Howells · Rating 1 out of 5]

It's books like this that make me regret my cast iron rule of having started a book I must finish it. Frankly this is a right dog's dinner and one of the worst books I've read in years. Bruce Robinson (who created the classic Withnail & I) is obsessed with Jack the Ripper. Or rather he is obsessed with the Freemasons and is convinced that not only was one of them responsible for the murders but that they also colluded to cover it up. This obsession means that any semblance of an 'academic' investigation is thrown out of the window. Basically he is sure of his theory & then fits the information to 'prove' it. Although he doesn't prove it...and takes 800 pages not to prove it. It's extremely badly written, it's the equivalent of a drunk haranguing you on a bus, but you aren't able to leave. At one point he describes an obscene letter allegedly written by the Ripper as '...the rage of a repugnant child'...to be honest he could have been describing himself...I won't 'spoil' who he thinks Jack was, but there is nothing in the book that even remotely convinced me he was on the right continent let alone the right ball park. God alone knows how this got published.

[Ian · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is an absolutely astonishing achievement. It is a compelling, fascinating read. It is also somehow totally Robinsonian (I'm coining that now, if it hasn't already been) in its style and tone, turn of phrase ("He couldn't look at a bottle of ink without fishing it for lies"), humour and forward momentum. You may perhaps think that humour should play no part in a narrative on this subject, but be assured that it is of the dark variety; the very dark, (yet somehow frequently laugh-out-loud funny), raging, contemptuous variety. It's a howl at the sheer awfulness and tragedy that none of the perpetrators, be it 'Jack' himself, those complicit in the immunity he enjoyed and exploited to the full, or the many others who played a part in associated, Establishment-preserving deceits, could now be brought to justice; indeed their many crimes will probably now go unacknowledged by the vast majority. Because though of course central to it, the story of the Whitechapel murders is far from being the only topic of discussion and tireless research in this book. The scene is set, and precedent established, by a summary of the Cleveland Street Scandal and subsequent cover-up, among other disgraceful tales of corruption on a huge scale and the complete breakdown of the British justice system (one of the book's appendices deals with the framing of Irish politician Charles Parnell). The book concludes with a description of the disgraceful 'trial' and eventual downfall of Florence Maybrick, orchestrated entirely by Robinson's candidate for the 'Whitechapel Fiend'. Ultimately, and in contrast to other, reductive approaches, Robinson's takes the wider view, embracing events that span many years and involving many actors in a complex chain of events, to arrive at a candidate for the Ripper that explains or helps resolve a host of associated 'mysteries', many now almost totally forgotten (the murder of poor Johnnie Gill being particularly harrowing for this reader. And for this crime - another so-called mystery, they tried to hang an obviously innocent milkman) . Even if you disagree with Robinson's conclusions, the indefatigable and wide-reaching research behind it is monolithic and staggering, and will have to be confronted and addressed by those choosing to pursue this subject further and/or wishing to refute its claims. I pity those who try. I believe this to be the definitive work on the 'mystery'. Here's to Bruce Robinson!

[Michelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's an interesting theory but dear lord he does natter on.

[Reese Copeland · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very interesting theory about Jack the Ripper. Author sometimes comes off as snaky and arrogant, but this is mistaken for someone who has done clear research and can back up why he believes what he believes and why others are wrong.

[Angus McKeogh · Rating 5 out of 5]

I could not stop reading this thing. And it comes in at about 1000 pages. At times some of Robinson's digressions were a little long-winded. But ultimately, unlike any other "expert" I've previously read, he offers his culprit and then makes all the evidence stick with facts from primary sources. A wild read. A fount of knowledge and information I hadn't previously been given access to. A really great read. Gripping. And as he states...I think he's "Busted the Ripper".

[Keith Swallow · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's probably inevitable that ratings of such a book will be at one of the two extremes, but I am puzzled why some people have scored it poorly when they openly admit that they have little knowledge of the subject area (sometimes only having read the book because of respect for the author). It is clearly aimed at those who are very familiar with the subject, and why anybody else would shell out on this 800-page volume is baffling. Likewise, those that suggest it should be edited miss the point: the extent of the research is astonishing and needs to be presented in detail.

Even more puzzling is those who dismiss it as ill-informed and suggest that Robinson has just plucked a name out of a hat. This is absurd, and suggests that these reviewers have not bothered to even finish it. I do not claim to be an expert, but have read many of the books and theories that have been put forward in relation to JTR, and Robinson's case is far more plausible than most. I agree that some of the conclusions drawn from documents may appear tenuous, but many more are fully supported and I'd suggest that - in a court of law - they would collectively constitute very strong circumstantial evidence. This is about the best that you could hope for after so much time has elapsed. Not many of us are in a position to confirm that all the sources and documents drawn on are correct, and I certainly have no knowledge of the workings of freemasonry, but I don't accept that Robinson would fabricate or seek to misinterpret these; and, if he had, surely somebody would come forward to challenge him. A case in point is that a number of freemasonry apologists dismiss Robinson's work as "just more of the same old tired lies". The fact that none of these sources has sought to demolish any of the individual issues that Robinson raises rather strengthens his case.

For the basic premise is that the killings were perpetrated by a rogue freemason. The incompetence of the police and other authorities - dominated by freemasonry - was breathtaking, but is explained by the fact that the killings were so obviously masonic in their execution that a cover-up was instigated. Robinson makes this case very persuasively and - bearing the above caveat in mind - I am convinced by his argument.

At the outset, the authorities were unsure who they were protecting, and it is unknown how many may have been aware of his identity as his "career" progressed. Robinson again produces sufficiently detailed research to convince me that Michael Maybrick penned most of the JTR correspondence and that, if he was not the murderer, then he was at least heavily involved in or knew the perpetrator of the events.

I agree with another reviewer that it is disappointing that Robinson has not fully explored the Maybrick Diary angle. But I suppose that that is his prerogative - and others would complain that this would have made the book even longer. The inference is that Maybrick wrote the diary in a bid to frame his brother - if indeed it is contemporaneous. The trial of Florence Maybrick is covered in detail and, once again, the apparent incompetence of the police and defending counsel is attributed to a cover-up. This case is once more persuasively made, and it should be noted that even at the time the public - more used to accepting the machinations of the ruling classes than is the case today- expressed incredulity at the way the case was conducted. What is less easy to understand is what happened after the killings stopped. JTR may well have moved to the Isle of Wight and freemasonry been responsible for largely airbrushing the name of Michael Maybrick from history - but it is a mystery to me how this changing of history would have been achieved (and again raises the question of how many would have been "in the know"). And, although accepting that it may have been a hatred of his sister-in-law that drove him to such bestial acts, the fact that he could hang up his knife and live out the rest of his life as a respectable and worthy citizen doesn't sit too comfortably.

But - and in conclusion - for anyone with a serious interest in the "JTR mystery" (a phrase, incidentally, for which Robinson has no time), this is a must read.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

First things first: there is something here to trigger or offend practically everyone, so don't say I didn't warn you. Robinson's acid commentary on the Ripper investigation is by turns horrifying and hilarious, and he saves his most brutal sallies for the capital-E 'Establishment' of Victorian England. And while I'm not sure I buy into the Masonic connection he puts forth, it's clear he's done a great deal of research, and has turned up details I hadn't seen in 20 years of reading true crime books and accounts of the Jack the Ripper killings and subsequent investigations. His solution is masterfully presented, and if nothing else, the trials of Florence Maybrick and William Barrit should give any lover of Victoriana pause.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not 100% sold on Robinson's argument, but it's definitely one of the more credible and well-plotted theories I've read.

[Nicole Perkins · Rating 1 out of 5]

Less about Jack and more about politics and Freemasonry

[Alyssa · Rating 1 out of 5]

Almost DNF but I powered through the audiobook at 2.5x by the end. Well researched and the audiobook was very well read but it was just way too long and repetitive for me. The same stories, theories, and explanations could have been presented in half the time. The tone of the writing was often very harsh which sometimes made it unpleasant to listen to, plus there were certain derogatory names and phrases that were repeated throughout the book which were not necessary.

[Mitchell Kaufman · Rating 2 out of 5]

Yet another theory attempting to identify Jack the Ripper, and not a very convincing one. The author is so busy criticizing British society in the 1880's for most of the book and spends much of his time positing that the perpetrator was known, but covered up by those trying to protect societal elites. There are much better books for the Ripperologists out there.

[Sandra Pearson · Rating 1 out of 5]

I so wanted to like this book having heard the author on radio. However, no matter how hard I tried I could not get past the foul language. So unnecessary, in my opinion a lazy way of shocking the reader. Well my loss is a charity shop's gain, I gave it away unfinished having tried several times to get through more than the first few chapters.

[Fishface · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was the Everest of my Mt. TBR project -- an 800-page doorstop of a book about Jack the Ripper. It ranged all over the place, from intriguing to laughable. Above all it made me very aware of how little I know about the original source material on the Ripper case, about any of the suspects, and about how to know whether what I'm reading is fact or fiction. This author is one of those guys who thinks EVERYTHING is a conspiracy and he can prove it -- then goes on to prove only that his ego has outrun his common sense. I have to treat this one as wildly-imaginative historical fiction that may well be rooted in facts that do seem to suggest a solution to the Ripper crimes. But those facts are interpreted here in a way that makes zero sense. I would have enjoyed the book more if the author had just told us his theory and backed it up instead of bloviating endlessly about how much smarter he is than anyone he discusses in the book because the solution is so obvious -- a solution he says he took 15 years of research to figure out himself.

[Kevinjwoods · Rating 1 out of 5]

Quite possibly the worst book on Jack The Ripper ever written and that takes a lot.
There are quite a few problems with his theory so lets take them in no particular order of stupidity:
Anytime he fails to discover any evidence to back up his claims he simply explains that this is because of a conspiracy to remove the evidence by the Masons, and his sole evidence for this conspiracy seems to be that there is no evidence to back up his claims.
His main evidence that a Mason did it is because of the Spelling of Juwes, but can't provide any examples of this spelling in Masonic Literature and ignores the idea that up until fairly recently spelling itself of many words was shall we say flexible.
The idea that the entire police force would help to cover up for the murderer is simply ludicrous, you have to remember that every day the murders were being reported in the press and he expects us to believe that the entire police force decided not to investigate, in reality there are reports that they interviewed thousands of witnesses and had hundreds of suspects.
He assumes that all the press reports are accurate and all the police reports are false which leads him down paths that don't quite follow, for example he quite bit about the fact that the police failed to follow up the clue that one of the victims was seen being bought grapes before they were killed, and uses this as evidence they were incompetent, actually this was not a major clue for the simple reason that the post mortem revealed no evidence she had consumed grapes that night, if that was true then the natural assumption is that the shopkeeper was mistaken.
He also assumes the double murder was planned in advance, solely based on a random letter sent to the press, overturning over a century of assumptions that the murderer was either interrupted in the act and had to flee or the first was another unrelated killer, these letters are frequently sited as being from the killer ad even at one point the fact that they were being sent from around the world in different handwriting is cited as clear evidence, again he decides at one point that it was possible to have a letter be given a postmark from New York and posted in Liverpool and then reats this as evidence it was done this way.
He seems to believe that the heads of various police departments were perfectly fine with losing everything in order to protect the killer simply because he was a fellow mason, and would do so in such a cackhanded fashion that it was obvious this was what they were doing.
He also fails to provide any evidence linking his killer to the murders, indeed in some cases he can merely state that his suspect could have been in the same town as letters were sent from.
To summarise he seems to have decided upon a theory and then proceeded to write as much words as possible in order to hide the fact that there is not a shred of actual evidence to back it up, in fact he seems genuinely to believe that Lack of Evidence is Evidence.

[Rennie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a hot mess in a million ways, it hardly sets off down one gaslit Victorian alleyway before it charges off down another to chase something else entirely and I have to admit, there were more than a few moments when I wasn’t entirely sure what we were talking about. But I was willing to follow Bruce Robinson (arguably the hottest one from the ‘60s Romeo and Juliet movie) on his big crazy journey and I’m glad I did. I kind of couldn’t tear myself away from this even in its most wtf moments.

I’m back and forth on his suspect, and it requires a lot of acceptance of the proverbial all-the-way-to-the-top coverups and conspiracies, but stranger things have happened. Like how Ted Cruz can be the Zodiac AND a senator. Robinson makes a good point, that there’s less of a mystery to who Jack the Ripper was, “Ripperologists” just choose that mystery, and the real mystery that’s been there for the solving is why the investigation was handled so strangely, as if they didn’t want him to be caught. (He puts it better than that but I read this thing in a week and I’m tired.)

It also makes sense that he ties other murders to him, because it always a seemed a bit suspicious that the killing stopped right when he was escalating. Although at times this felt a liiiittle like finding reasons to make your evidence match your suspect, and maybe there could be other explanations behind some of it. Then he’d make another good point and I’d be back on board. What a tumultuous week it’s been.

Also, I should say I have very little knowledge about J the R beyond what I guess everyone knows, I’ve never actually read another book about it, so I’m somewhat malleable and willing to be convinced here. It’s a good, weird read, let’s put it that way.

[NHC Gonzo Division · Rating 4 out of 5]

In reviews of this book Robinson is oft compared to the Great Hunter S Thompson, and even within just the first few pages I can see why! Robinson comes at this mystery with full tilt Gonzo gusto, emulating the Gonzo Godfather perfectly as he busts open one of the most famous mysteries of all time, who is Jack the Ripper? If Hunter had approached this subject this is precisely the book he would have written!

No spoilers, but I think the author/detective conclusively nails it. With a forensic approach and an impeccably-researched and very scholarly method; Bruce spreads it all out in all its gruesome detail for everyone to view, like the entrails of a murdered Victorian whore splayed on the cold pavement for every passerby to see.

I’m completely satisfied with his conclusion. I think the evidence put forth in this book is irrefutable and we need no longer ponder Jack’s identity or call it a mystery. Case solved (and it only took a hundred and thirty-odd years!).

This book gets four stars from me, verging on five. I highly recommend it, and if you like Gonzo-style writings or you are fascinated by Jack the Ripper or murder mysteries in general, or you are interested in Victorian England or freemasonry, then this book is going to be a huge treat for you! Enjoy.

[Kaila · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'm going to be honest here: I didn't finish the book.

Firstly, the author seemed up himself and I didn't like the style in which he wrote. Secondly, the contents were so badly organised/presented that it was annoying to read. Thirdly, on accounts of my terrible memory, I couldn't keep the people straight.

It may well be a fascinating theory, it might even be correct, but I honestly didn't care enough to plough through it. He spends far more time criticising society of back then than is necessary, and I'm certain the book could have been cut down a fair amount without really losing anything.

After weeks of reading a few pages a night, I finally had enough sense to put it down. I don't often stick with books that bore me, but this one was a gift, so I really tried to stick with it.

[Xanthi · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to give this book a higher rating. It was thought provoking, well researched, detailed, and brought something new to this case. However, I didn’t find it to be all that readable. It took me almost 6 months to read this book! That is a record for me.
The problem lay in the fact that it was too dense. I understand that the author needed to back up his arguments with evidence but felt he repeatedly laboured points. He could have made his brilliant arguments without subjecting his readers to 800 pages.
That aside, I think the author hit the mark on who Jack was, how and why he operated, and most importantly, why he was never apprehended. I have read quite a few Ripper books over the years and this one is by far the best. It makes the others look like works of fiction, which they probably mostly were.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I put my normal activities on hold this week to read this superb book as I couldn't put it down. The identity of Jack the Ripper is such a contentious area for writers but I'm totally won over by Bruce Robinson's incredible detail and research. I think he puts forward a very convincing argument and all credit to him for his commitment to the subject. I like the fact that he is very open in his condemnation of numerous individuals and his colourful turn of phrase makes for a very entertaining read. A brilliant book.

[Akiong · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was never interested in Jack the Ripper until I heard Bruce Robinson was on his case. Bruce tears apart the whole mystery myth of Jack the Ripper along with the rotten establishment that allowed him to continue with his evil hobby. Beautifully written, insightful, hilarious, compelling and extraordinary. A very rare treat.

[Rachel Kasch · Rating 3 out of 5]

4 for the research, 2 for the attitude. The author displays a clear animosity for the British aristocracy which permeates the book. I think he could have made his case for a cover-up better if he had used a more academic tone.

[Denise · Rating 1 out of 5]

Didn't finish because of the downright AWFUL, self-righteous, non-historical writing style. His hate for the Victorian culture and the contemporary history of ideas was fun for exactly ten pages. I'm not reading another 600+ pages of this bullshit. What a waste. Dear Bruce, I still love Jack!