The Pocket Essentials Jack the Ripper - review

Pocket Essentials is a series of very useful guides to a variety of subjects, and the newly revised and updated Mark Whitehead and Miriam Rivett’s guide to Jack the Ripper is no exception. I didn’t see the original edition of the guide, but this version coves a vast subject pithily and well.

A great deal of nonsense has been talked and written by a great many people about Jack the Ripper for over a century now. The speculation about the real identity of the serial killer has ranged from the plausible to the potty. Anyone who was anyone in late Victorian society seems to have been linked to the case at one time or another.

In a well-written introduction, the authors give their perspective on the case, in measured and readable fashion. They are surely right to point out that the real fascination with the case is that people want to know why anyone would wish to commit such terrible crimes. We can, and I think should, dismiss those who simply want to salivate over the not-for-the-squeamish details of what the Ripper did to his victims. But his motive remains a source of unending debate.

The authors summarise the crimes, and provide a good concise overview of the main suspects who have been identified over the years, as well as highlighting films and books based on the case, and sources of further information. They are clearly sceptical about Patricia Cornwell’s theory that Walter Sickert was the Ripper, as I am. And they are sceptical, too, about the diary in which James Maybrick purported to be the Ripper. So am I – but I’d add that if the diary is a hoax, it was, however tasteless, a brilliantly conceived hoax.

Convention reflections

For the last in my series of posts about Crimefest, I’d like to reflect on the appeal of crime fiction conventions, perhaps especially for the benefit of any readers of this blog who have not attended such a convention, and wonder whether they would enjoy such an event, or whether they would feel a bit isolated.

My first crime convention was 20 years ago this autumn – the Bouchercon that was held in London. At the time, I had not enjoyed any success whatsoever as a crime writer, although I had joined the Crime Writers’ Association on the strength of writing and reviewing about the genre. I knew a few of those who attended, but not many. However, it was an eye-opening experience. Among many others, I got to meet Patricia D. Cornwell, who had just published her first novel, Maxim Jakubowski, Geoff Bradley of CADS and the great Golden Age expert Tony Medawar. I’m still in regular contact with Maxim, Geoff and Tony – not Patsy Cornwell, though, alas!

The event was so much fun – even for someone who is not naturally very sociable, like me - that I was hooked, and since then I’ve attended conventions in various different parts of the UK, as well as at Toronto, Seattle, Philadelphia, Las Vegas and Washington. I don’t claim that every event has been perfect, but each time I have met pleasant people for the first time, and had the chance to renew existing friendships. As well as to talk crime long into the night with like-minded people on countless occasions. Can’t be bad, can it?

And here are some photos from Crimefest featuring some of those people whose company I've shared with such pleasure. The first photo shows me with Mike Stotter, editor of that great online magazine Shots, followed by blogger Peter Rozovsky, top crime fiction guru and reviewer Ali Karim, and finally the Monkey Coalition pub quiz team: Carol, Ann, Karen, Cath, me and Rik. Photos courtesy of Ali, Mike and Karen.

Forgotten Book - Detective Fiction: the Collector's Guide

The second edition of Detective Fiction: the Collector’s Guide, by John Cooper and B.A. Pike, appeared in 1994. Sadly, no third edition has ever seen the light of day, so I think this splendid volume qualifies for inclusion in Patti Abbot’s series of Forgotten Books.

Splendid on two levels, I think. First, there is a concise account of the work of each of the authors featured, and these short essays are invariably packed with insight. Second, the book reproduces the cover artwork from many Golden Age classics – sometimes in full colour – and some of the covers are quite entrancing. Collecting crime fiction has a great deal of appeal for me - which is why I've devoted a page on my website to it - and reading what Cooper and Pike have to say has, over the years, deepened my enthusiam for the pastime.

There is a great deal of bibliographic information, and the emphasis of the book is unashamedly on the classic whodunit- books that can be described as hard-boiled, thrillers or psychological suspense novels are largely ignored. So it is, inevitably, highly selective – but were it otherwise, a huge tome would need to be assembled, and the production costs would be prohibitive (I suspect that’s why there has never been a third edition.) A few current high-flyers are, however, included: for instance, Ann Cleeves, and it’s interesting to remember, given Ann’s relatively recent rise to international prominence, that by 1993 she had published no fewer than ten novels. More unexpected, perhaps, is the inclusion of Patricia D. Cornwell.

One of the great benefits of reading the book, I’ve found, is that it has introduced me to a range of writers I hadn’t come across before. James Fraser is a case in point, and Cooper and Pike are so enthusiastic that I’ve bought a few of his books although unfortunately I haven’t had time to read any of them yet. This is a book that gives me a great deal of pleasure whenever I dip into it, and I can recommend it to anyone with an interest in the history of the whodunit.