"Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper-Case Closed"

I'm sure most of you are thinking, "Great, thanks for choosing such a cheery and uplifting book to do your first book review on!" To you naysayers out there I have one thing to say: I have a thing for true crime, so get used to me throwing in some gruesome novels every once in awhile. I'm the girl who reads books about serial killers while watching Law and Order with the crime reports from the newspaper spread out in front of me. Okay, slight exaggeration. But at the moment, it's better than the unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath I was reading.

Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper-Case Closed was written by crime novelist Patricia Cornwell (G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2002) after she discovered some shocking evidence about the "true identity" of infamous serial killer Jack the Ripper during a trip to London's Scotland Yard. Jack the Ripper terrorized the streets of London's East End during the fall of 1888 as he brutally murdered five prostitutes over a three-month period. London's Metropolitan Police were never able to capture the Ripper, and this serial killer has since become one of the most famous around the world. Conspiracy theorists and true crime-aholics alike have become obsessed with uncovering the identity of the Ripper, and Patricia Cornwell couldn't help but join the fray.

This book has been on my reading list for some time and after I ran across it on the shelves of the library I work at I couldn't help but check it out. I have read Patricia Cornwell's Postmortem, which I enjoyed, so I thought this book would at least keep me entertained. I really should have taken a hint from the long, awkward title Cornwell chose for her investigative report on the "true identity" of Jack the Ripper.

From the beginning this book made me roll my eyes every few pages. After studying numerous Ripper letters and the thin police reports that still exist in London's city records, Cornwell came to the conclusion that Jack the Ripper was actually Walter Sickert, a German-born actor and artist who studied under Whistler. Sickert was well-known for his wandering habits, his charm, his secret studios, and his sometimes violent paintings and sketches. Sickert also had some kind of genital defect that may or may not have left him mutilated as an adult, and all of these things somehow lead to the conclusion that Sickert was the Ripper of the East End. To be fair, I began reading this book as a skeptic, and it probably would have taken a lot to convince me. But honestly, the identity of the most famous serial killer in history has been unknown for almost 125 years and Cornwell said herself that the amount of evidence that exists from the crimes is dwindling to almost nothing. This book simply does not make a strong enough case.

Cornwell uses Portrait of a Killer to introduce some facts and inflate others. She takes reports from the doctors who examined the bodies of the victims and plays make-believe with what she thinks might have actually happened, because she obviously knows more than the ill-trained, inexperienced surgeons who were physically at the 19th century crime scenes. Granted, Cornwell probably does know more about forensic science and solving crimes than these doctors, as well as most of the detectives who worked for the Metropolitan Police in 1888. But Cornwell says herself in the book that the body is the most important piece of evidence in a homicide and without them, it appears that instead she insists on turning fact into fiction to prove Sickert was the Ripper. Cornwell also develops an annoying habit of explaining how the case could have been solved had Jack the Ripper committed his crimes in 2002. The author spends too much time distracting the reader away from the actual crimes with these anecdotes and exaggerations, and the book is not any better for it. 

Unfortunately, the book is also not any better because of writing skill or good editing. It sounds as though Cornwell sat down and started writing, and whatever she came up with they published. While there are several grammatical and spelling errors, the book just does not flow well. The chapters are mashed awkwardly together with titles that do not make sense. She jumps from one subject to another within the chapters, and as far as I can tell the only flow the book has is that she follows the murders chronologically. At best, Cornwell has managed to convince me that Sickert probably wrote a few of the Ripper letters. He also sounds like a terrible husband. Other than that, I can't say that this book has shed any more light for me on the Jack the Ripper mystery. If you are interested in a book about Jack the Ripper, The Complete History of Jack the Ripper by Philip Sugden has gotten excellent reviews. I have added it to my reading list and will perhaps do a review on it in the future, in comparison with Portrait of a Killer. 


Overall Grade: D