The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper

I'm a casual fan of true crime books, but I am extremely picky about which ones I'll read; too many feel like they are glorifying the killer(s) and/or his/her/their crimes.

This book is just the book for which I've been looking for such a long time! This book isn't about Jack the Ripper at all; it's about his (or her, or their, but I'll stick with he/his pronouns for simplicity) victims. The author has done a wonderful job of researching these five women and of painting a vivid portrait of the worlds in which they lived. The author really challenges the common myths surrounding the murders - for example, three of the Ripper's victims weren't prostitutes at all, and there is no proof that the fourth, who was involved in sex work in her show more past, had returned to it in Whitechapel.

To be honest, this kind of blew me away because I'd read a couple of books about Jack the Ripper in the past, and NEVER was it even suggested that perhaps that one of them might not be a prostitute. Furthermore, in the books I read about the case, the victims kind of faded into the background, almost as if they were secondary characters whose purpose was to serve the "main" character of the Ripper.

And in the end, the author completely calls out misogyny and its role in painting these women as prostitutes. And even if they HAD been involved in sex work, the author is quick to point out that this does not make them less "worthy" as human beings. Preach it.

I originally borrowed this from the library (trying to keep my book buying costs to a minimum for the foreseeable future), but it is SO GOOD that I simply have to buy my own copy. show less

The fibers that have clung to and defined the shape of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth,
Kate, and Mary Jane’s stories are the values of the Victorian world. They are male, authoritarian, and middle class. They were formed at a time when women had no voice, and few rights, and the poor were considered lazy and degenerate: to have been both of these things was one of the worst possible combinations.

Jack the Ripper murdered five London women in 1888, but was never identified or caught, and his gruesome story has fascinated people ever since. But the victims were summarily dismissed as “just prostitutes,” as if that were sufficient reason for them to lose their lives. The Five sets out to redress this wrong by piecing together public records, show more disparate news accounts, and other sources to tell the life stories of each victim. Hallie Rubenhold spends absolutely zero time on the details of each murder or the murderer himself. Instead, she tells us about the family each victim was born into, her adult life, and the circumstances which led to living in the Whitechapel area where the murders occurred. More often than not, the women's lives took a turn for the worse as the result of a marriage gone bad, widowhood, or being orphaned while still unmarried. A woman alone or with dependents would have found it nearly impossible to survive; there was no way for her to earn a living. In these circumstances it was imperative they become attached to another man who would provide for them, but decisions made in desperation rarely had positive outcomes. Add homelessness and alcohol to the mix and all hope of stability was lost. The five victims inevitably found themselves walking the streets of London, not as prostitutes but simply in search of one night’s food and shelter. When they ended up sleeping rough in a dark alleyway, their lives were even more at risk.

The low value placed on women’s lives means that sometimes details are scarce, and Rubenhold’s research often strayed into adjacent spaces in order to paint a picture of how the victim might have lived. The author is very clear about when she is reporting facts about the victim, and when she is connecting dots to reach a plausible conclusion. While the victims’ stories are sad, I was also left feeling angry at a society that placed women at such disadvantage, and often continues to do so today. show less

A fantastic piece of research, drawing together the details of the lives of five ordinary, all-too-typical working class women who, were it not for the terrible circumstances of their deaths at the hands of one of history’s most notorious killers, would have remained completely anonymous and lost to history.[return][return]Fascinating, even if you have no interest whatsoever in the … what can I call it, without being rude: “mythology”? …obsession? … of Jack the Ripper. This is a window into the downward spiral of the lives of five very different women of Victorian London, who illustrate all too painfully how most working class people of that era lived on the edge of an abyss, and how one life crisis -- illness, loss of show more employment, death of a parent or spouse, collapse of a relationship – could plunge them headlong into destitution, homelessness, and a life in the shadows, beyond the respectability and minimal comforts they had worked so hard to enjoy. [return][return]Sound familiar? What was just as shocking as the tragedies of these five women was how familiar it all seemed. They say that every American is only one serious illness away from bankruptcy. (And having experienced the American medical system, and the scam they call health insurance, I believe it.) Britain has a better safety net, with the NHS, but homelessness and sleeping rough, reliance on foodbanks and the existence of sub-par housing (Grenfell Tower, anyone?) is a blight on the whole country, not just the big cities. There was nothing quaint or historical about Rubenhold’s descriptions of pathetic figures, roaming the streets at all hours of the night, trying to beg, borrow or steal the price of a flea-infested bed in one of the doss houses in the East End of London, until they finally collapse in a doorway from exhaustion and cold, and probably a drink to dull the pain. Wearing every article of clothing they possess, pockets stuffed with the broken bits and pieces that either remind them of the lives they once had, or might come in useful, or might be pawned for a few coppers. That could be … that is … now.[return][return]In addition to that, Rubenhold’s main thesis, that four of the five were not prostitutes is important, and necessary, and if some reviewers seem to have become tired of her “banging on about it,” … well, all I can say is … y’know, tough. After 130 years, it is something that really needed to be said – the police and media and “respectable” public of 1888 took one look at the location of the murders, the degraded living conditions of the five victims, and their gender and gleefully declared PROSTITUTES. No better than they should be. Probably flouncing around in revealing outfits, tempting poor honest boys. Deserved whatever they got.[return][return]And they were wrong. One of the murdered women was a professional sex-worker, and probably would have made no bones about it. (Interestingly, she was the final victim, whose murder MO was very different from the previous four. Which makes me wonder …) The other four were middle-aged women from a variety of respectable, working poor backgrounds, whose lives had been torn apart by alcohol, the death of loved ones, and the breakdown of family ties. At they times of their deaths they were partnered up with men they would have described as regular common-law, if often unreliable, relationships. Not … prostitutes. [return][return]And (again, an example of history depressingly repeating itself) like the Yorkshire Ripper of the 1970s, the assumptions that the police, media and public jumped to in 1888 probably tainted the investigation of the murders, and the hunt for the identity of Jack the Ripper. Rubenhold makes a very convincing case that, far from targeting “ladies of the night” (with all of the sexist baggage of over-made up hotties, wearing scanty outfits and winking seductively under gaslight streetlamps), the Ripper was probably attacking vulnerable women, who were semi-comatose from drink in doorways and down dark alleys. [return][return](It seems that there has always been some debate in “Ripperology research” … can you believe there is such a thing? … as to whether one of the five, Elizabeth Stride, was really a victim of the Ripper, because the circumstances of her death were slightly different from the first three. But Rubenhold introduces some information about the final victim, Mary Jane Kelly -- whose death, as I said above, was very different from the MO of the other four – which suggests to me, at least, that her murder might not have been the work of Ripper either, but instead have been a copycat killing, in revenge for crossing a human trafficking network. Again, that is scarily modern. [return][return]I’ve said a lot more about this than I really meant to, but I think it has gotten under my skin – and that’s a very good thing for a book, I hope you will agree. Rubenhold’s research is amazing. Her writing is very readable. The subject – taking the spotlight from the homicidal maniac, and refocusing it on the victims, and their lives, rather than their gruesome deaths – in other words, giving them back their dignity, and their humanity -- is important. [return][return]HIGHLY recommended. show less

This is one of those books that is both surprising, and not surprising. Jack the Ripper is big in pop culture - the murdered of Women of the Night, prostitutes. However, the victims are women who are just trying to survive in a world that condemns women who are don't fit the norm. In almost all of the cases, the victims were poor, ill, abused, and often alcoholic. Victorian society (and even today) seem to blame the these ladies and consider them deserving of death for their situation. Which is awful considering that there is no help, no safety net, and getting drunk is the easiest way to escape from reality.

As for the book, the author has done her research. The London police did not have tools or resources that a modern police show more department has, nor was there much of an initiative to actually look into their deaths. Its not even clear if all the deaths were committed by the same person. I very much appreciate that the author had to speculate on what these women were feeling as they went about there day to day to life. Unfortunately, not much is known, and the newspapers of the day would add lurid details that weren't always true, just to sell a paper.

I also appreciated that these women's stories are about their lives, not their deaths. Their murder was only described in a few paragraphs, but chapters were given to each women on how they lived and who they loved. I think that the name "Jack the Ripper" was only mentioned in the introduction.

Which leaves this - these women were murdered by someone, probably a man, there names should be known, but only Jack the Ripper is remembered today. And, unfortunately, this is still happening - a prostitute is found murdered, but nobody cares, from the police to the media, to the middle class. There is something seriously wrong when a Killer (or killers) is more known than his victims. show less

Most people would probably recognise the name "Jack the Ripper" and be able to describe the broad outlines of the crimes attributed to him, but far, far fewer would be able to name any of the women murdered in Whitechapel in 1888, or say anything about them beyond the fact that they were prostitutes.

In The Five, Hallie Rubenhold attempts to remedy this. Rubenhold explores the lives of the so-called "five canonical victims"—Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly—and uses them as a lens through which to explore the lives of working class women in Victorian London and the misogyny (and frankly shoddy research) which has permeated the historiography of the Ripper murders. Rubenhold show more spends little time discussing the murderer(s) and even less on the specifics of these women's brutal deaths. She wants the reader to appreciate the humanity of these women, and in this I think she succeeds. (Though I wish there had been less of the "X must have thought Y" tactic throughout the book; it generally irritates me.)

I found the epilogue one of the more powerful parts of the book, particularly when Rubenhold pulls quotations from some "Ripperologist" works to illustrate just much misogyny has distorted perceptions of the murders. Modern authors have ranked the attractiveness of the victims, called them "gin-soaked drabs", "moribund, drunken trug-moldies", and women who were fortunate enough to be "intimate" with "one of the most famous men on earth." Nichols, Chapman, Stride, Eddowes and Kelly were people. Why does it seem that popular fascination—even sympathy—seems to lie with their murderer(s)? I wish that Rubenhold had dug into the victims' afterlives as much as their lives.

(While "Jack the Ripper" is not centered in The Five, I finished the book more inclined to believe that he never existed outside of journalists' fantasies—but as with so much about the cases, we will never know the truth.) show less

The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper - Hallie Rubenhold I'm not finished yet, but this is pretty amazing. Rubenhold has gone to primary and secondary period sources to discover a great deal about the women who have existed merely as "murdered prostitute" all these years. The scholarship is impressive, as is the imagination to start over, virtually from scratch. Given how very much has been written about their murders since 1888 it's kind of amazing how little we ever knew about the victims, when there was so much available.There is a bit much speculation on the mundane presented as fact: there is a great deal that can be inferred with high probability, but the construction "she would have" grates on me. show more There is also a rather constant refrain of how the women were assumed by the police of the time to be prostitutes in the absence of any positive evidence that they were. But that is a welcome reminder not to accept stereotype as proven fact. Everybody lies, including the police.Dec 20, 2019***Now that I am finished my opinion certainly hasn't gone down at all. Although I knew generally how constrained the lives of Victorian women were, and how tenuous their survival, I didn't have a lot of specifics. It's kind of staggering how little progress we've made in the past 130 years. Forensics have improved but little else has. Dec 23, 2019 show less

Digital audiobook narrated by Louise Brealey

Subtitle: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper

I’ve always been fascinated by crime and devoured many true-crime books. I’ve read several about the Jack the Ripper murders. Of course, they all focused on trying to figure out who Jack was. But Rubenhold takes a completely different path. She focuses on his victims – the women who were (mostly) mischaracterized as prostitutes.

The book is divided into five parts, each woman getting as full an accounting of her background and life as possible given the years that have passed since their deaths and their relative obscurity in society at the time. Rubenhold did extensive research and she really brings these women to life. We show more see that some were in solid relationships and enjoyed relative security before circumstances led to a downward turn in their situations. She makes a convincing argument that the women, far from being active sex workers, were more likely homeless and sleeping in alleyways or doorstops where they might find some shelter. For more than one, alcohol abuse played a key role.

Rather than victim-shaming, Rubenhold allows for compassion for the situations these women found themselves in. Even if they were prostitutes, they still deserved the full protection of the law, or at least the full efforts of law enforcement to find and punish the perpetrator of these heinous crimes.

What I found particularly touching was the very last chapter, where Rubenhold gives an inventory of the very meager belongings of each woman at her death.

Louise Brealey does a fine job of voicing the audio edition. This kind of narrative nonfiction works well on audio because the author made the effort of make the stories personal. show less