Thoughts and views about writing, researching and creating. All the doubts and wonders I come across, all the surprises and discovery of new roads I am lucky to experience when working with my non-fiction texts. A big and warm welcome to you, I’m very happy to see you here. - Majken xx
Some years ago, I stopped by the Cinema Museum in London. It has a somewhat hidden location in the part of the city named Lambeth - south of the river Thames and not too far from the Imperial War Museum.
The place used to function as a workhouse which is easy to see when you look around. It really does look like an old institutional building from the industrial age with its arches, pillars and tall windows.
Once, this “Lambeth Workhouse” was the home of Charlie Chaplin, although only for a short period. When he was about seven years old, he stayed here with his (half) brother Sydney and their mother. It was - obviously - a time in their lives when they were so out of money they couldn’t afford to live in a place of their own.
My tour in London back then was roughly about that: visiting places where people in history once had lived their everyday life.
Standing in front of one of the entrances, I let my fingers touch the stones that surround the door opening. “Maybe the young Charlie also touched this same spot those many years ago?” I thought. “Perhaps he’d been in a hurry after spending a day outside the walls of this place. And to make it back before the building closed its doors for the night, he’d run as fast as his two little legs could take him, and when reaching the entrance, he’d swung the door open while holding on to the side of the doorway.” And who knows? - Perhaps he had. It’s a fun thought anyway. And so fascinating, I think, how we often feel a connection when being in the same places where people who are no longer here once had their daily routines.
My tour in London back then was roughly about that: visiting places where people in history once had lived their everyday life. Mainly I was circling the East End of town, the area in which the serial killer Jack the Ripper and his victims used to hang out (I was researching that story at the time). I stopped by a building near the Spitalfields Market, which used to be another of the city’s legendary workhouses. Here one of the Ripper victims lived at some point, and actually, you can still see the original sign “Women” carved into the facade over the main entrance (the “Men” entrance is also still there just around the corner).
...what I wanted to achieve was to really get who these women were and what kind of lives they had lived. And using all senses usually helps me in this.
I also passed by some of the bars that the women used to frequent, like “The Ten Bells”, which *fun fact* years later was taken over by the grandfather of the famous chef, Jamie Oliver. And then I stopped by the places where each of ‘the Five’ - as the women famously are named - sadly ended their lives. In Henriques Street, for instance, Mrs. Elizabeth Stride - also known as ‘Long Liz’ - took her last breath. As I walked by, I noticed that someone had made the kind effort of renaming the location “Elizabeth Stride Street” in her honour. Mrs. Stride was, by the way, originally from Sweden, as her birth name Elisabeth Gustafsdotter reveals. Later I went on a trip to Gothenburg to visit some of the areas she’d once inhabited - long before she knew she would one day travel to London and end her life in a horrible way.
So, why bother travelling to London to walk the streets of the Ripper victims? Well, what I wanted to achieve was to really get who these women were and what kind of lives they had lived. And using all senses usually helps me in this. Walking around this East End neighbourhood made me feel close to 'the Five'. Actually, at times I felt like I was time travelling. When I stood in one local spot for a long while, genuinely seeing the place, taking it in, it was as if I was breathing the same air as Long Liz and all the rest of them - as if we were at the same spot at the same time, just living our lives in a parallel space.
Have you gone to certain places because they represent a particular person or a certain happening?
In religion, there’s an expression known as Pars Pro Toto, meaning ‘a part or aspect of something taken as representative of the whole.’ The idea behind this is that the ‘mana’ - i.e. power or energy - of a human being (or other living creatures or objects) flows through the person and everything they own. Each small part of them - their physical body and personal belongings - contains their energy and power, and who knows, perhaps it was the mana of the Ripper women I experienced when touring the London East End? I am among thousands who visit the routes of their lives, keeping their memories alive - and thereby (I imagine) help strengthen their energy and power, or their mana if you wish.
Or perhaps it is just me getting inner visions when leaning deeply into my - well developed - imagination.
Frankly, I don’t know exactly what is happening. And honestly, I don’t need to know either, I feel. What I do know is that when I gear up all my senses while visiting historical places, I often get a much deeper insight into the lives of the people who once were. Much deeper than if I’m only walking by, reading the signs and checking the lists of facts (which is also interesting).
Have you gone to certain places because they represent a particular person or a certain happening? What was your experience of being there? Perhaps you even brought a piece of it with you back home? …To have some mana for you to keep :-) I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences. Please feel free to drop me a line - follow this link. Thanks.
Majken xx
The original sign "Women" on a workhouse in which one of the Ripper victims once lived. London, East End.
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