|
I've been immersing myself in darkest London lately.
I abandoned Little Dorrit as far too tedious as few months ago, so it was with some trepidation that I started what is supposedly Dickens's least-read novel, Barnaby Rudge, his "other" historical fiction, set during the Gordon Riots. I was enthralled, as it turns out. Wonderfully evocative setting and characters, marred only slightly by too much coincidence.
At the same time, I've been reading They All Love Jack by the film-maker Bruce Robinson, an excoriating account of the intentionally botched investigation into Jack the Ripper to serve the ends of the aristocratic and power elite. His tone of high umbrage suits the material and while I don't have the background to judge the merits of his own Ripper candidate, I am entirely persuaded by his account of corruption in high places.
Both of these books are easily among the best I've read all year.
|