White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings

London #1

by Iain Sinclair

Reflecting on the nature of fiction and history, this novel combines a spiritual inquest into the Whitechapel Ripper murders and the dark side of the Victorian imagination with the story of a posse of seedy book dealers, hot on the trail of obscure rarities of that period.

Genres: Fiction, London, Literature, Historical Fiction, Novels, Horror, 20th Century

210 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1987

About the author

Iain Sinclair is a British writer and film maker. Much of his work is rooted in London, most recently within the influences of psychogeography.

Sinclair's education includes studies at Trinity College, Dublin, where he edited Icarus, the Courtauld Institute of Art (University of London), and the London School of Film Technique (now the London Film School).

His early work was mostly poetry, much of it published by his own small press, Albion Village Press. He was (and remains) closely connected with the British avantgarde poetry scene of the 1960s and 1970s – authors such as J.H. Prynne, Douglas Oliver, Peter Ackroyd and Brian Catling are often quoted in his work and even turn up in fictionalized form as characters; later on, taking over from John Muckle, Sinclair edited the Paladin Poetry Series and, in 1996, the Picador anthology Conductors of Chaos.

His early books Lud Heat (1975) and Suicide Bridge (1979) were a mixture of essay, fiction and poetry; they were followed by White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings (1987), a novel juxtaposing the tale of a disreputable band of bookdealers on the hunt for a priceless copy of Arthur Conan Doyle's A Study in Scarlet and the Jack the Ripper murders (here attributed to the physician William Gull).

Sinclair was for some time perhaps best known for the novel Downriver (1991), which won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize and the 1992 Encore Award. It envisages the UK under the rule of the Widow, a grotesque version of Margaret Thatcher as viewed by her harshest critics, who supposedly establishes a one party state in a fifth term. The volume of essays Lights Out for the Territory gained Sinclair a wider readership by treating the material of his novels in non-fiction form. His essay 'Sorry Meniscus' (1999) ridicules the Millennium Dome. In 1997, he collaborated with Chris Petit, sculptor Steve Dilworth, and others to make The Falconer, a 56 minute semi-fictional 'documentary' film set in London and the Outer Hebrides about the British underground filmmaker Peter Whitehead. It also features Stewart Home, Kathy Acker and Howard Marks.

One of his most recent works and part of a series focused around London is the non-fiction London Orbital; the hard cover edition was published in 2002, along with a documentary film of the same name and subject. It describes a series of trips he took tracing the M25, London's outer-ring motorway, on foot. Sinclair followed this with Edge of the Orison, a psychogeographical reconstruction of the poet John Clare's walk from Dr Matthew Allen's private lunatic asylum, at Fairmead House, High Beach, in the centre of Epping Forest in Essex, to his home in Helpston, near Peterborough. Sinclair also writes about Claybury Asylum, another psychiatric hospital in Essex, in Rodinsky's Room, a collaboration with the artist Rachel Lichtenstein.

Much of Sinclair's recent work consists of an ambitious and elaborate literary recuperation of the so-called occultist psychogeography of London. Other psychogeographers who have worked on similar material include Will Self, Stewart Home and the London Psychogeographical Association. In 2008 he wrote the introduction to Wide Boys Never Work, the London Books reissue of Robert Westerby's classic London low-life novel. Hackney, That Rose-Red Empire: A Confidential Report followed in 2009.

In an interview with This Week in Science, William Gibson said that Sinclair was his favourite author.

Iain Sinclair lives in Haggerston, in the London Borough of Hackney, and has a flat in Hastings, East Sussex.

Reviews

[Jordan West · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am genuinely unsure about how to rate this one; on one hand, there is some jaw-dropping writing on display, particularly in the sections detailing the exploits of the jaded, amoral 'bookmen', which are rendered with such midnight black humor they become brilliant expressionist grotesque - Bacon canvases captured in prose. On the other hand, as the book progresses the varying narratives become so fragmentary and the writing so oblique that I'd be hard-pressed to say what was occurring and what the point is. So then, four stars for some parts, two for others. Multiple readings and patience are mandatory for this one, and knowing Moore's From Hell (and the Ripper case in general) is a big help.

[Adam · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is like a Peter Ackroyd novel or Alan Moore’s From Hell(sharing nearly every plot point and idea, an influence on Moore, though also from similar sources) rewritten by a mad beat poet with a flair for Burrough’s cut-ups and humor, Borge’s claustrophobic theories on literature and reality, Blakeian visions, Lovecraftian horror, and something that trickled out of your deepest nightmare. Sinclair’s humor like Burrough’s is so bruise dark that it is something other. Not for anyone looking for something rational or comforting, but those seekers of fearsome luminous prose, terrifying ideas, and surrealism.

[Szplug · Rating 4 out of 5]

The present inseminated by the past. Birthing monsters. The past sired by the present, park bench nightmares. Dimensional vortices. The third ensnaring the two. Shopping bag suicide. Fiendish rituals to save the Empire. Whitechapel swollen with brick-built ghosts, history and fiction in simpering coital secrets. Wrists sliced to the rhythm of screams.

Hallucinatory streets, madness lifted from the pages. Saucy Jack embalmed in myth, riverine worms, cerebral puddles, eye-agonies of starlight. Doctored grapes, rod-bearing harlots, cries to the Pleiadeic moon to circle back on its lunar roar. Truth like silver blood that sears open orifi. Beached barge, barnacle death. Morphing companion, caul-hooded. Mind chastising the animal flesh, dripping meat banners, tumescent pricks into labial tumors.

Seedy dregs, hirsute cheeks clutching cast-off crumbs, town-to-town in breathless quest. Stumblebum stick insects and ladle-skulled ogre. Cobweb Holmes and axe-handle dentistry. Taut time tormenting maze-bound fools and liars. Gibbon laughter. Cocaine-fueled apathy, adrenaline-soaked books with bindings of human skin. Dealers in labyrinthine passages, streets on fire, febrile crowds rushing the stalls. Golems of scarlet clay and bone coral. Jawlines etched in stone buildings, glass blown out, mirror-spray.

Arcane. Haunting. What the fuck just ran me ragged? Puzzle pieces in hues that shift, jigsaw house become gaping maw when chin hits chest. Mind-blowing mesmerpoetry from a wide-eyed manic seer, shushing librarian scream-sprung and feral, cracking bones in whiplash contortion.

[Charles Dee Mitchell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is it possible to enjoy a book while aware that you are not "getting it"? Obviously, yes, at least three stars worth.

I have been looking forward to reading Iain Sinclair, and have built up a small battery of his books. This is the first one I've tackled, lured in by its brevity and the plot lines that promise dissolute used book dealers and Jack the Ripper.

The book dealers, given my slight contact with the British used book trade, I found completely believable. There is razor thin Nicholas Lane who, due to stomach ulcers constructing a coral reef in his gut, lives off cocaine and what nutrients he can absorb from his meals before he regurgitates them. He and his crew are introduced on a Mr. Toad's wild ride through the English countryside, scouting,or rather scrounging, for books, waking up one dealer in the middle of the night who, having forgotten his key, is happy to kick in the front door of his shop so they can have a look. Inside is the dealer's night crew busy removing remainder marks and forging autographs. Lane and company find Elmore Leonard first editions and one true prize, a rare variant of Study in Scarlet they expect to net thousands from. So much for that plot line.

Now the bits about Jack the Ripper. HIstorical Victorian characters take over or rather permeate the proceedings, especially Dr. William Guy, a popular but largely discredited contender for the Ripper himself. The prose is brilliantly fevered at it best but so chock-a-block with place names and historical references that I decided to let it just roll on rather than work to hard to puzzle it all out. I enjoyed the ride, but I have to admit I was glad, or I should say, relieved when it was over.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sinclair takes the reader through the Jack the Ripper story of East London while following a motley lot of itinerant book scouts. Sinclair's characters are slimy and money hungry, constantly trying to find that one book that will make them a ton of loot. I've read reveiws that said you need to be up on your East London locations and Ripper stories to really enjoy this read, I disagree. I've never been to East London. All I know about Jack the Ripper is that he killed prostitutes in London. But if you enjoy or have ever been involved in the used book trade or enjoy literature in the 'Beat' tradition, you are going to really dig this book.

[Jayaprakash Satyamurthy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Prose sings, reality is bruised, a veritable encyclopaedia of Ripperology is sluiced through recondite esoterica and everyone from Vincent Van Gogh to Wild Bill Cody makes an appearance. Heady stuff; Sinclair constantly decoheres the plot in deeply unsettling ways, turning this into more of an extended invocation than a novel.

[Jay Rothermel · Rating 3 out of 5]

White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings (1987) by Iain Sinclair is the most demanding novel I have ever finished. Its scope, its style, and its speed of execution are both beguiling and confusing to me. My initial response was that the authorial voice and style were similar to James Joyce's Ulysses, a novel I famously started and did not finish along with the great many uber novels. What kept me going with White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings was the encouragement of the text. Every 10 or 20 pages Sinclair would pepper his poetic effusions about the perceptions and sensations of his characters with a noteworthy aside about the literature of the Victorian era and how it pertained (or foreshadowed) the Whitechapel killings of 1888.


Plot Summary

The book is a non-linear, multi-layered narrative that explores the historical and psychic landscape of London's East End, specifically the Whitechapel district and its association with Jack the Ripper. It intertwines historical figures like Sir William Gull, James Hinton, and Thomas Chatterton with fictional characters like the narrator, Dryfeld, and Nicholas Lane, creating a complex tapestry of time and place.

Characters

* Nicholas Lane: An emaciated book dealer with an uncanny knack for finding valuable books.
* Dryfeld: A hulking, driven book dealer, obsessed with making deals and money.
* The Late Watson: The narrator, a melancholic and self-deprecating figure who accompanies the other book dealers on their journeys.
* Sir William Gull: A historical figure, the royal physician, implicated in the Jack the Ripper murders.
* James Hinton: A 19th-century surgeon and philosopher with unorthodox views on morality and pain.
* Thomas Chatterton: A historical figure, a poet who committed suicide, and whose life and work become intertwined with the narrative.

Settings

* London's East End: Specifically, Whitechapel, Spitalfields, Brick Lane, and surrounding areas. The East End is depicted as a labyrinthine, decaying place, haunted by the past and filled with eccentric characters.
* The "hour glass stomach": A metaphor for the divided nature of reality, past and present, and the interconnectedness of seemingly disparate events.

Themes/Thesis

* The cyclical nature of history and the persistence of the past: The book suggests that the past is not separate from the present but continues to shape and influence it. The Whitechapel murders and the figures of Jack the Ripper cast a long shadow over the present-day East End.
* The exploration of the dark side of human nature: The book delves into the motivations behind violence, cruelty, and self-destruction, as seen through the lives of both historical and fictional characters.
* The power of the imagination and the nature of reality: The book blurs the lines between fiction and reality, suggesting that the stories we tell ourselves and the myths we create can have a profound impact on our understanding of the world.

Style

* Non-linear narrative: The book jumps between different time periods, characters, and perspectives, creating a fragmented and dreamlike atmosphere.
* Dense and allusive prose: The writing is filled with literary and historical references, requiring the reader to actively engage with the text.
* Mixing of fact and fiction: The book blends historical figures and events with fictional characters and narratives, creating a sense of ambiguity and challenging the reader's perception of reality.

Chapter Summaries

Book One: Manac

* Chapter 1: Four book dealers, Nicholas Lane, Dryfeld, Jamie, and the narrator, journey through England in search of used books. They visit the peculiar bookshop of Mossy Noonmann in Steynford.
* Chapter 2: The childhood of William Gull is depicted, growing up in a remote coastal community with his devout father, John Gull.
* Chapter 3: The narrator describes working in a brewery and encountering the enigmatic figure of Dick Brandon, who tells tales of London's past.
* Chapter 4: Dryfeld and the narrator go book-hunting in the early morning markets of London's East End, encountering the eccentric Nicholas Lane.
* Chapter 5: The death of John Gull from cholera and his unconventional burial are described.
* Chapter 6: Mr. Eves, a collector of Ripper-related memorabilia, shows the book dealers cards with the names of the victims, sparking a discussion about the murders.
* Chapter 7: The narrator and Joblard visit Sir William Gull's old surgery at Guy's Hospital, now a museum, and encounter a strange barman who talks about Keats and Chatterton.
* Chapter 8: Dryfeld and Nicholas Lane are robbed at Nicholas's flat by masked men, and the valuable "Study in Scarlet" is stolen.
* Chapter 9: The narrator visits the Farringdon Road book market and encounters a man telling a story about his uncle's experience in the Belsen concentration camp.

Book Two: Manac Es Cem

* Chapter 10: A letter from James Hinton to his sister Sarah, discussing his new job as a cashier and his thoughts on the nature of thought and will.
* Chapter 11: The book dealers try to track down J. Leper-Klamm, a collector of "Study in Scarlet" editions, and Nicholas Lane visits his mysterious house.
* Chapter 12: Another letter from James Hinton, this time to Caroline Haddon, discussing his relationship with her sister Margaret and his unorthodox views on morality and pain.
* Chapter 13: The narrator and Joblard visit the London Hospital Medical College Museum to see the remains of Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man.
* Chapter 14: James Hinton, now a surgeon, dictates a letter to Caroline, confessing his self-flagellation and unorthodox beliefs.
* Chapter 15: The narrator describes Hinton's walks through London with Sir William Gull, contrasting their personalities and views.
* Chapter 16: Another letter from James Hinton, discussing his "fluxion method" of thinking and his belief in the coming of a new age.
* Chapter 17: The narrator and Joblard visit a gym, and Joblard discusses his desire to erase his past and remake himself.
* Chapter 18: Hinton has a breakdown and wanders through Whitechapel, encountering a prostitute and having a vision of the apocalypse.
* Chapter 19: Dryfeld attempts suicide but is interrupted by a phone call about a book deal.
* Chapter 20: The narrator meets Joblard at a bar, and they discuss the nature of the self and the power of the imagination.

Book Three: JK

* Chapter 21: A letter from Douglas Oliver to the narrator, discussing the themes of good and evil, the nature of the self, and the responsibility of the poet.
* Chapter 22: The narrator encounters a man telling a story about his uncle's experience at Belsen, then meets the poet Douglas Oliver at a bookshop.
* Chapter 23: A letter from James Hinton to Caroline, discussing his "fluxion method" of thinking and his belief in the coming of a new age.
* Chapter 24: The narrator visits the morgue with a night porter and then attends a meeting of a radical group.
* Chapter 25: Sir William Gull is put on trial by a group of doctors for his unorthodox experiments and beliefs.
* Chapter 26: Joblard takes the narrator to a gym and discusses his desire to erase his past and remake himself.
* Chapter 27: Sir William Gull dies and is buried in a grand ceremony. His ghost wanders the grounds of Thorpe Hall, where he once conducted a secret training program.
* Chapter 28: The narrator drives to Ramsey and visits the church where William Gull is buried. He then walks to Landermere Quay and discovers the remains of a burnt-out barge.

[Paul Baldowski · Rating 3 out of 5]

I suspect people who use the sort of terminology would describe this as a 'marmite book', except I'd go so far as to suggest that you'll either like it or you'll not even want to occupy the same room as it. Iain knows how to write, but his frame of mind and perception of the world can be tough to align with and really enjoying this book might require a shift in consciousness.

'White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings' following a dual story line, one in the modern world - an obnoxious band of London-based book sellers intent on finding long lost text and ultra-rare first editions at bargain bin prices; the other, in the grubby London of the late 19th century, following the bloody trail of Jack the Ripper. As the book progresses, the whirl of prose becomes increasingly dense and hard to follow - and those who liked it a bit, but without commitment, might find themselves losing the enthusiasm to make it all the way to the end.

I felt duty-bound to make it to the final page, something I can't say I have managed with other more prominent books - like 'Catch-22'. I can recommend Sinclair for his unique vision; but, I cannot promise you'll like what you read here.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very difficult to get to grips with, even with background knowledge of the subject material. Still, the writing has a very hypnotic effect, which draws the reader in. Stylistically it is very interesting, retaining much of the poetic rhythms of his earlier work.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another Sinclair means a ton more confusion, but this one seems at least slightly more comprehensible than Lud Heat and Suicide Bridge. White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings seems to be getting at the obsession with the "sole actor" and the art behind the myth of terror. Our characters scavenge the recesses of London - whether to unveil the clues behind the Ripper case or to uncover the "rare book" they've been searching for - in search of an individual thing. It is not that they are seeking the occult and the true purpose behind the killings; they are instead seeking the killer. Similarly, the book dealers are not seeking anything but the wealth gained by that one possibly rare novel. They do not care for the contents, but for the search. Their minds are focused on the contemporary unimportance of the larger picture and instead focus on that which may cause a turning point. The Ripper's real quote, that (paraphrasing) he invented the twentieth-century, gives light to this idea. His gruesome, occult-like killings provoked a fear that drove our obsession with seeking the answers that could not solve a thing other than their own insular importance. At least, that's what I got from it. I'm certain Sinclair included far far more than I could parse on one read or a dozen, but overall it is quite a brilliant novel that is worth reading if you're into this style of challenging literature.

[Rachel Stevenson · Rating 3 out of 5]

In spite of his best efforts, Sinclair was an interesting man....

Somewhat like Peter Ackroyd's Hawksmoor, which I'm certain Sinclair has read, some three musketeers (stooges?) of book selling (divination?) try to solve the mystery of the identity of Jack the Ripper by reading (re-interpreting) old books and wandering round the east end by way of its many pubs. I preferred it to the one about the M25 - Sinclair is better when he's alchemising his own experiences into fiction rather than writing about his life and adding in some fictional happenings (you can always see the join).

[Roger Boyle · Rating 2 out of 5]

I got this from some Internet recommendation, but cannot remember which.

The fault is all mine - this is a beautifully written book by someone who really knows and uses language to the full. Many reviews will sing its praises, and rightly so, I suppose. But I struggled hugely with the narrative, which is an error as that's not, I think, the point of the book.

So it's a stream of beautiful paragraphs with several intertwined stories which I did not have the concentration or energy to disentangle. So I wound up feeling frustrated and failed to give it the attention it deserves.

Guess that makes me some sort of Philistine.

[Daily Alice · Rating 1 out of 5]

I am left wondering why I continued on with this book. I kept thinking surely I will get it/ it will start making sense/ it will come together soon? But it never did. I disliked it more with each page. I can't even tell you what the story was because I just didn't get it. There were a string of graphic scenes but nothing ever gelled. I can't recommend this book to anyone.

[Ell]

This book is like From Hell with the plot removed, reduced to pure imagery. It's so abstract as to be actively hostile to the reader. Seriously, if I hadn't read From Hell and been familiar with the "Gull theory" of the Jack the Ripper murders, I would have found this entirely incomprehensible. As it is, I found it about fifty per cent incomprehensible, and fifty per cent brilliant. Sinclair's writing is like that - when you're with him, there's nothing better, and then the meaning of the text slips away and you're left with just words.

Obviously From Hell came out almost a decade later and Sinclair was a massive influence on it, but it was still surprising to me that Alan Moore used so many elements from this novel in his story: the idea of solving a crime holistically; an occult war on women; Sickert; Hinton; Treves and the Elephant Man; Ganesha; Druitt; Buffalo Bill (the semi-fictional cowboy not the fictional serial killer); the Krays and the Moors murderers; Hitler; giving birth to the twentieth century. Sinclair flits manically between these ideas without really exploring them like Moore does.

So if you want to read a dark psychogeographical version of the Ripper murders, I would recommend From Hell. If you want to experience a deeper level of terrifying visionary madness, then read this next.

[Leonardo · Rating 4 out of 5]

A (literally) twisted tale of booksellers, pop and high occultism, and the undercurrents (Whitechapel and the Ripper mythos) that shape a city (London), White Chappel, Scarlet Tracings is a book that is sometimes too clever and meta for its own good, a book-shaped overreacher that somehow makes a lot more sense than it should. By the end of the book, you might care less about the booksellers that we join on their wild journeys across London than about the books they hunt, sell, buy, steal; you might not really care whether Dr Gull was the "real" Jack the Ripper; you might not even understand the "plot" of the novel (or even if there was a plot to speak of... at least in a traditional sense). But you will feel as if you had been initiated into a very special secret order (and you might actually have). And you will feel that you have caught a glimpse of the mysteries of the modern and post-modern worlds in which we live in a little better. And you will remember that cities are living creatures that cuddle and devour us. You will understand that words create us as much as we use them to create and recreate worlds.

[The Droll Prince · Rating 1 out of 5]

A 1 star review seems an inadequate indicator considering the sheer virtuosity on display in this debut novel. However, despite its inspired launch pad in Book One: Manac, the novel devolves by Book Two: Manac Es Cem into a heady, poetic, but ultimately rambling mess of a book. Each individual sentence hinting at greatness, but taken as a whole made my eyes water with its incoherence. Two thirds of the way through this novel, I was already begrudgingly forging onwards but, at the onset of Book Three: JK--when the author reprints in entirety a personal letter received by him from fellow author Douglas Oliver, breaking the fourth wall (oh so edgy)--I realized this book was a failed masterpiece. A botched attempt at greatness. Make no mistake, Iain Sinclair is clearly one of the better talented writers of his generation, perhaps approximating a more rarified and weird Martin Amis, or a British Don DeLillo. In the end, what I find in White Chapel, Scarlet Tracings is an example of high risk, high reward. It straddled the juxtaposition of a 5 star masterpiece and a 1 star trash fire. The risk was real, the rewards questionable.

I cross my fingers that Downriver improves on the formula, because I sincerely hope he's able to pull off what he fails to land in this work.

[Fabricio Fernandez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Finalmente, y después de varios años, terminé esta ¿novela, texto poético, filosófico? Sí, es todo eso. Me imagino que debe haber sido un trabajo arduo para el traductor; de hecho, tengo entendido que es el único libro de Ian Sinclair traducido al español.

Hay que encararlo con la predisposición a la metáfora cruda, a los juegos de palabras y a las imágenes onírico-conceptuales; de otra manera, su lectura resultará un fiasco. Pero una vez que uno se acostumbra a esta prosa poética, el texto es susceptible de ser disfrutado.

No intentaré hacer un resumen del argumento, porque dejaría de lado la mayor parte de la obra. Sí, hay una cierta historia alrededor de Jack el Destripador; pero es pequeña, diría que una excusa, para que el autor exponga varios conceptos alrededor del bien y el mal, de la existencia física y espiritual, de la trascendencia, y varios temas más de este tenor.

Libro complicado de leer, no aconsejable para impacientes o amantes de lo rotundo. Imagino que puede atraer a lectores jóvenes con cierta experiencia bibliográfica y documental (ayuda mucho a su comprensión el saber algo de filosofía, y conocer medianamente los pormenores del caso del Destripador). Difícil de recomendar y, a fin de cuentas, prescindible si lo que uno busca es leer algo más complejo que lo estándar. En este campo, hay obras más logradas.

[Jack Alexander Lawrence]

Works best as a companion piece to From Hell (though this was published a few years prior), as familiarity with the Dr Gull as Ripper legend will go a long way to contextualising this (anti) novel which reads as more of a hauntological exercise in slicing through the past and present to describe the force which has birthed our contemporary form.

He's the best living prose writer in English. What more could you want? A discernible plot maybe, but with Sinclair that's asking too much. Bathe in his incantations, soak in the past that never was, but had to be.

[Michael Moseley · Rating 2 out of 5]

I am really not sure what to make of this book. It was a great ride around some of my known haunts of London but what was it about? Lot about the Jack the Ripper and a possible prime suspect Sir William Withey Gull. But vast amount about book selling and sellers, quite frankly I was very confused. Some wonderful language and writing keep me going to the end but I seemed to miss the whole point of this book. I would love for someone to put me right.,

[Matt · Rating 3 out of 5]

An occultist romp across London. Two timelines. More? The house Jack built. Moore? A flight of gulls. Narrative broken by inked pages. Sinclair’s journey begins again…

—

Virtually impossible to rate. I would have no idea what was going at all had I not read From Hell. What was going on? Who knows. Interesting idea, good execution? Undecided. Worth reading? Definitely. Jack still haunts the East End. 3*.

[Luca · Rating 3 out of 5]

Non lo ricordavo così ostico, è il culmine del Sinclair esoterico/ermetico di Lud Heat / Suicide Bridge, il debito con Burroughs si sente nel clima straniato e straniante, è uno di quei libri che (squartandoli come il ripper con le sue vittime) ti costringono a imbrattarti le mani con il contesto per capire davvero.

[Evan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really very good. Iain Sinclair writes place better than anyone, the way in which the past bubbles up feels like it is clearly following on from Lud Heat - this feels like a prose distillation of Lud Heat in some ways. There are some striking scenes in this novel - seeing the Elephant man's bones come to mind - that will stick around. I think this mostly is due to Sinclair's writing - both poetic and straightforward, slightly disorienting.

The characters loosely trace the lines of the Ripper Murder, they also trace the lines of fiction that lead to this bloody reality. I love the leaps that Sinclair makes as past feeds into present and fiction- these threads leading to current reality. Hidden, intrinsic, rules, lines, and zones are everywhere in the text - and, I guess, in the world.

"When two men meet a third is always present, a stranger to both."

I found Sinclair funny at times, there are some sections of book selling - and book sellers - which were particularly funny

I would like to read this again at some point, I will also read more Sinclair.

[Philip Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

A uniquely metaphoric fusion of fact and fiction that highlights the darkness of Whitechapel during the time of Jack the Ripper, the infamous Victorian serial killer. I have marked higher for its historical references, the bravery of its prose, and the ability of its author to create atmosphere.

[Dylan Rock · Rating 4 out of 5]

A gothic modernist, sitting at a point in time and fiction where Arthur Conan Doyle, Jack Kerouac and Jorge Luis Borges seem to move the Sinclair pen in an act of automatic writing all the while the shadow of Jack the Ripper and his mythological influence on London hang heavy over all.

[Jon Mann · Rating 2 out of 5]

After multiple attempts on this, I admit defeat/disinterest. The poetic prose can be brilliant, but it's not enough to pull me through. A London resident may get more out of the very specific 'psychogeography'.

[Mike Mcconnell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Strange ramble through the lives of a ragtag bunch of book collectors.

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

This the second time I have read this book and it seemed like a totally different novel!

[Mitch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mind boggling goodness

[Chiefdonkey Bradey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Shadows of dark secrets - strange and terrible

[Oliver Goddard]

Mostly impenetrable but percussive and fun.