Historically, there is only one Jack the Ripper; rhetorically, there are thousands. In recent years there has been a significant push to use modern forensic techniques to identify the Ripper, including DNA testing. None of these has – or likely ever will – deliver a satisfactory explanation, and this opens the door to more extreme possibilities, ones that extend the myth of the Ripper rather than rewriting his history. Was Jack the Ripper an alien? Was he possessed by an ethereal force? Was he never caught because he escaped into the future? Like D.B. Cooper or the Zodiac Killer, Jack the Ripper is a semi-historical figure both confined by his chronotope and freed by his mystery; his murders are historical fact, his true identity a fiction. In their study “Science Fiction as Mythology,”’ Thomas and Marilyn Sutton observe, “Myth is typically concerned with the study of origins whereas science generally focuses on the study of destiny” (231). Jack the Ripper crosses both these liminalities as a product of popular culture, mythic in origin, particularly as it is explored through the lens of speculative science to find out what became of him. Utilizing Jack the Ripper’s status as a figure of popular culture allows the character to carry this weight of possibilities in a way that purely historical fiction could not.
Jack the Ripper is arguably the most iconic killer of all time, not simply for the brutality of his crimes, but because he was never brought to justice. Science fiction, a genre that embraces both the factual and fictional, becomes the perfect gedankenexperiment (a “thought experiment”, a theory or hypothesis that is explored in the mind and not in the world) with which to resolve Jack the Ripper: the events are fact but to identify Jack is a fiction. The application of Jack the Ripper as SF trope has become so pervasive, he warrants his own entry in The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction (Langford, “Jack the Ripper”). Memory of the crime scene details, the state of fear in the London of 1888, the frustrations of Inspector Frederick Abberline, and a century of post-Jack speculations work together to form a metanarrative that in each iteration must be distinctive from those that came before. There is an extensive body of work in literature, film and television, graphic novels, and gaming in which the Ripper murders feature, each one taking the canonical facts and synthesizing them with original narrative. The story of Jack the Ripper is told over and over again, but each time the narrative resolves itself with a different version of Jack: For the television series Sanctuary, it is John Druitt; for Babylon 5, a man called Sebastian; for Kim Newman in Anno Dracula it is Dr. John Stewart and for Roger Zelazny’s A Night in the Lonesome October, Jack was actually the hero, helping to save the world from a Halloween invasion. The Ripper crosses cultures, genres, and media as a tool for both the professional and the amateur to engage with one of the most profound mysteries in the history of crime. What follows is a close examination of Jack the Ripper in science fiction as time traveler, as corporeal other, and as ethereal other three of the prominent forms SF has found to deal with the historical weight of Jack’s memory in popular culture.
Every author, director, and fanfiction writer is forced to address certain key factual elements in taking on Jack the Ripper: 1) at least five women were murdered in the East End of London in 1888; 2) the nature of these deaths are graphically described in public documents; 3) Inspector Frederick Abberline and Scotland Yard’s involvement in the case; 4) authorities failed to bring the murderer to justice. Jack’s very name is “both a necessary fiction and a fact missing its history” (96) according to Clive Bloom, a duality that creates a limited freedom for the sleuth-writer. As long as the existence of these indisputable facts are acknowledged by the creator of the work (and not countered without thorough explanation), a near infinite universe of solutions is available. Jack’s story has so permeated the popular consciousness and collective memory that a thorough explanation of the facts is not even necessary; it is enough to simply name Jack. But each universe in which the solution exists is independent from another solution. There are scores of non-fiction (purportedly) books that claim to reveal the identity of the Ripper; each different in identification and/or reasoning. If they weren’t, there would hardly be a purpose to publishing them. Narratives about Jack the Ripper are like a Venn diagram with only one large circle of data – the historical memory of the case – surrounded by individual spheres of fictions that cannot touch each other because there cannot be two solutions to the same case. In essence, every story of Jack the Ripper is a reboot. We are used to thinking of the reboot in just cinematic and televisual terms, revisiting and reimagining known characters in a known universe, but in this instance plots that invoke Jack the Ripper are pulling Jack from known history into a new universe.
Only those pieces of primary evidence and historical record may exist within the central sphere; every work that purports to be “non-fiction” must contain elements of fiction because there is no solution, only speculation with varying degrees of verisimilitude. Nor can Jack the Ripper be both Sebastian from Babylon 5’s “Comes the Inquisitor” and an alien Ju’wes in Doctor Who: The Ripper. In The Invention of Murder, Judith Flanders argues that “everything we know about Jack the Ripper – his name, his persona, his reasons for killing – is the culmination of a century of murderous entertainment…” (465). This entertainment stemming from grotesque tragedy continues to be a strong element in popular culture memory. To finally identify him – and thus his fate – would allow us to eliminate one of the monsters that might still stalk the shadows.
If one can be a “fan” of Jack the Ripper, one is more likely a fan of the mystery rather than the murder (hopefully); Robin Odell claims that Jack is the “patron saint of serial killers” (255). Everyone wants the chance to be the detective who cracks the case, and the public availability of information about the Ripper murders allows Jack to be perpetually tried in absentia. As Michael Connor says, “Modern Ripperology is a game. Choose a name,…choose your clues and anyone could write a book proving that anyone possibly alive in 1888 was Jack…” (76). Science Fiction, though, allows for the additional removal of Jack the Ripper from the chronotope of 1888 Whitechapel. These are not mystery narratives – the crime and criminal are already known; the only part of the puzzle to uncover is the fate of Jack, and perhaps his birth name. And not just who, but what: is Jack the Ripper even human? Many writers like to think otherwise.
The inclusion of Jack the Ripper in a science fictional tale bestows the element of the factual to the fiction; when Jack is removed to the future on a space station (Babylon 5) or a contemporary American prison (“The Strange Case of Lucas Lauder”), these fictional chronotopes are pulled a little further into our reality by virtue of their recognizable antagonist. To distinguish the fantastic Ripper from the science fictional Ripper, none of the tales are set in 1888 unless time travel is involved; no alternate realities or dreamscapes. History is already written; Jack the Ripper was never a vampire (with apologies to Kim Newman’s Anno Dracula), nor did he flee to a steampunk-inspired Gotham City in America (further apologies to Brian Augustyn’s Gotham by Gaslight). The popular consciousness is more apt to accept a disembodied or alien Jack moved forward in time, or a human traveler to the past, than the inexplicable rewriting of thousands of history books; the myth requires continuity within the science fiction versions of Jack.
Science fiction’s engagement with – and solution to – Jack the Ripper takes a few specific forms: the time traveler, the corporeal other, and the disembodied other. Each of these allows for the seemingly supernatural violence and evasion of Jack: “In chasing the identity of the Ripper… investigators acknowledge the bizarre silence at the heart of the tale, a place where history has closed in upon itself and refused its fact” (Bloom, 97). Every reimagining of the case engages in its own mimetic dance with history, equally as plausible as the next, because there is not – and never likely will be – a definitive identity and biography of Jack the Ripper; for every non-fiction work that claims to possess the answer, there is another negating the findings. The way in which a particular work of science fiction engages with the Ripper reflects one of the possible resolutions to the crime, without ever entering into discussion with other works, always maintaining a singular solution.
The online catalogue of film and television, Internet Movie Database (imdb.com) lists no fewer than 84 entries for “Jack the Ripper” character appearances (as of July 20, 2016), and this is surely not a complete accounting. In addition, the number of novels and non-fiction books reach into the thousands, as any search on amazon.com reveals. This table breaks down some of the most well known science fiction works to invoke Jack the Ripper by type (and sometimes name) of the killer character.
|TIME TRAVELER||CORPOREAL OTHER||ETHEREAL OTHER|
|Sebastian, “Comes the Inquisitor,” Babylon 5 [TV]||“Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper,” Weird Tales [short story]||Anna, Hands of the Ripper [Film]|
|“A Toy for Juliette,” Dangerous Visions [short story]||John Druitt, Sanctuary [TV]||“Ripper,” The Outer Limits [TV]|
|“The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World,” Dangerous Visions [short story]||The Valeyard, Doctor Who: Matrix [novel]||Guy Richards/Lucas Lauder, “The Strange Case of Lucas Lauder,” CBS Radio Mystery Theater [Audio]|
|Sir William Gull/Ian Pascoe, “A Rip in Time,” Timecop [TV]||Mac’atyde, Doctor Who: The Ripper’s Curse [Comic]||Adam, “With Affection, Jack the Ripper,” The Sixth Sense [TV]|
|Stevenson, Time After Time [Film and novel]||“The Ripper,” Kolchak: The Night Stalker [TV]||“Wolf in the Fold,” Star Trek [TV]|
|Dr. Albert Fell, “,” Fantasy Island [TV]||Roger Eddington, Bridge Across Time [Film]|
Jack as Time Traveler
Either under his own power, or not of his volition, Jack the Ripper has escaped into multiple futures after the murder of his fifth victim. This type of Jack is usually the most human of those presented by SF, because only this Jack needs to violate time and space to make his escape rather than outliving the rest of his contemporaries via superhuman capabilities. Either alien intervention or humans from the future are responsible for this type of Ripper narrative. In no instance, though, is the history of Jack altered. David Wittenberg explores time travel narratives and how they reflect our approach to history:
This sort of plot, in which characters or actions affect the past but do not change it, is a favorite of both physicists and philosophers because it appears to be consistent both with logic and with the theoretical possibility of “closed timelike curves,” solutions of the general theory of relativity that permit time travel to the past (153)
This is the conservation of history and narrative by the composers of Ripper narratives; rewriting history to alter the events of 1888 would create such a vast temporal disruption that the narrative would be overwhelmed by the changes. Jack’s inclusion in the story must maintain the “closed timelike curves” or else it strays into the realm of alternative histories and fantasy, negating even the slightest possibility of a mimetic plot.
The simplest time travelling Ripper narrative is uncovering Jack’s identity. The television show Fantasy Island portrayed an ambitious writer visiting the island so that she can finally uncover the identity of Jack the Ripper in the episode “With Affection, Jack the Ripper” (29 November 1980); this is her fantasy, one shared by many others. The perpetrator in this case is a Dr. Albert Z. Fell, an original solution without any Ripperologist or historical connections. He embodies the stereotypical physician Jack, bitter towards the female of the species because his mother turned to prostitution and blackmailed his father. Don Ingalls’s script is about identifying the psychology of the Ripper, the breaking point for his madness: “For every year of my father’s shame and of my degradation, another harlot shall die…” Fantasy Island fulfills the fantasy of thousands of Ripperologists, giving Jack a face, a name, a motive, and a resolution to the case, not just with a name, but when Dr. Fell follows the portal into the modern world, this puts an end to his murder spree in 1888. There is little concern for the victims, no attempt to correct past crimes with the power of time travel, only the satisfaction of a case closed 92 years after the fact.
For Harlan Ellison’s 1967 Dangerous Visions collection, prolific Ripper-writer Robert Bloch also sent Jack far into the future in “A Toy for Juliette.” Juliette, a bored sadist whose “Grandfather” procures devices of torture and victims for her pleasure by pulling them from the past, has the misfortune of welcoming Jack the Ripper into her bedroom. “The toy” Juliette is presented with is described as a “blushing Victorian” and “a physician” (138), playing into the hypothesis that Jack was medically trained. The world the Ripper enters is one that could have been of his own making, degenerate and violent; Bloch’s imagined future and Jack’s recent past are one and the same. Ellison was so inspired by “A Toy for Juliette” that he followed with his own continuation of Bloch’s tale, “The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World,” sending Jack out to explore this future that seems built upon his own dreams. The violence of Jack’s crimes and unease of 1888 London served as mirrors for the society of a century after.
Time After Time appeared as a novel by Karl Alexander and a film by Nicholas Meyer in 1979, centering around Jack the Ripper fleeing into contemporary San Francisco, pursued by H.G. Wells. Jack thrives in the moral degradation of modern America, whereas Wells, a utopianist, is horrified to see how far reality has fallen from his vision. This tale, like the two from Dangerous Visions, is not about identifying and capturing Jack the Ripper; instead, Time After Time is about comparing our world to the psychological profile of Jack, then contrasting it with the more hopeful dreams our genre predecessors had for the future of humanity. A New York Times review notes that actor David Warner’s Jack “so effectively makes the film’s point about the timelessness of evil that the screenplay’s further remarks on the subject seem redundant” (Maslin, “Movie Review: Time After Time”). This is what Jack the Ripper means to so many modern SF writers who delve into the subject: Jack’s crimes are not truly unique – he is the embodiment of all those perpetrators of evil. This theme carries through in an episode of the short-lived television series Timecop (based on the film of the same name) used a contemporary, time-travelling serial killer as the explanation for Jack. “A Rip in Time” (aired 22 September 1997) begins with an unidentified Jack the Ripper being killed by a time traveler, who takes on the persona and crimes of Jack; “Once you master the art of murder, you touch the face of God,” the new Ripper claims (Gough, 1997). He wants to become a greater killer than the Ripper ever was historically. The Ripper is not a source of evil in himself, but a goal, an entry into the Guinness Book of World Records for human derangement, because if you can’t beat them, join them.Each of the preceding examples demonstrated a Jack whose presence was meant to expose and interrogate modern society and its bloodlust; these Rippers are hardly distinguishable from the rest of us once removed from their own setting. However, Babylon 5 creator and writer J. Michael Straczynski cast Jack the Ripper as a man kidnapped by aliens in 1888 and used to interrogate (and torture) potential allies of the Vorlons. “Comes the Inquisitor” (aired 25 October 1995) may have been influenced by Harlan Ellison, who was a writer and consultant for the show and, as mentioned, has his own history with the Ripper mythos. The episode narrative in no way revolves around Jack the Ripper, his crimes or history, and only at the end is the truth revealed when the character of Sebastian/Jack laments: “Remembered not as a reformer, not as a prophet, not as a hero, not even as Sebastian. Remembered only… as Jack” (Straczynski, 1995). This brief monologue, and ‘Sebastian’s’ employment as the inquisitor, reveals some of the hypothesized psychology of Jack, that he murdered Whitechapel prostitutes as some sort of misguided crusade against immorality and degeneration. Anyone could have been used to fill the role of inquisitor, but Straczynski’s choice of the Ripper draws together historical mystery/memory and the idea of the unwitting antihero. His task for the Vorlons is to be “Diogenes with his lamp looking for a man willing to die for all the wrong reasons.” The Inquisitor is looking for “the right people, in the right place, at the right time” to lead the forces of light against the Shadows in the coming war. Sebastian/Jack was chosen for this task specifically because he was the antithesis of the right person in the right place at the right time. Rarely do writers visit Jack’s own idea of himself and his crimes, moving a step beyond the external view of pure evil. In this episode, though, the audience is invited to be Jack/Sebastian’s inquisitor, and find him wanting; he is not a heroic soul that can perform the tasks required of those at the other end of his inquiries.
Jack as Corporeal Other
There are two forms of Corporeal Other that science fiction imagines for Jack: the immortal, and the alien. Neither of these Jacks is human in the traditional sense, which sets them apart from the Time Traveling Ripper, which is still traditionally human. Science fiction has long employed the immortal/undead being as a key element of our shared cultural memory, and Jack the Ripper, the great uncaptured villain of his era, often finds himself as immortal as Dracula, the product of another world or another plane of existence.
Robert Bloch’s short story “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper” (Weird Tales 1943) portrays the Ripper as an immortal being who needs to sacrifice humans to maintain his immortality. It was a groundbreaking work at the time, moving the Ripper into the purview of speculative fiction. In contemporary (1943) Chicago a series of grisly murders confounds the police, who are assisted by Sir Guy Hollis of London (whose father originally worked the 1888 case), Dr. John Carmody, a psychiatrist, and Jenny Davis, a newspaper woman. This Jack performs ritualistic murders of women in groups of five to maintain his immortality. It is supernatural, and yet the traditional supernatural charms of garlic, crucifix, etc. can’t defend against this evil; they are pithy, childish talismans against a form of evil that transcends the old ways. Jack’s ultimate victory – again – is synonymous with a world that has not yet repented fully of its sins, and therefore must still be subjected to inexplicable evil. The short story was so popular it was adapted for radio, in Stay Tuned for Terror, and television, as an episode of Thriller (1961). Most recently Joe R. Lansdale and John L. Lansdale adapted it into a graphic novel for IDW with the art of Kevin Colden under the same title. Bloch’s work took Jack the Ripper and science fiction into a new direction, one which inspired decades of imitation.
Following a similar setting, the American television show Kolchak: The Night Stalker began its series with an episode called “The Ripper” (first aired 13 September 1974), in which Jack the Ripper himself – and not just an ethereal reincarnation – is haunting the streets of Chicago. What’s more, this Jack possesses superhuman abilities beyond long life, such as speed and strength. The how and why aspects of the narrative are never explored by writer Rudolph Borchert; “the Ripper merely exists without explanation,” as Coville and Lucanio assert in their study of the episode (p. 74). Choosing the Ripper murders to introduce a new show to the public works to orient viewers to a new television character by utilizing a historical character they are familiar with through cultural memory. Though the other traits given to this incarnation of Jack are not consistent with our reality, the mystery of Jack’s identity allows flexibility of interpretation; the viewer’s mind builds the bridges between historical reality and Kolchak’s Ripper.
Combining the immortal and alien forms of the Corporeal Other, we find the American television show Sanctuary using the historical Ripper suspect Montague John Druitt to integrate the Ripper as a central character to the narrative. In this version, Druitt is part of a nineteenth century cabal of spiritualists cum scientists who inject themselves with vampire blood, granting him immortality and the power to teleport, but at a price; he becomes possessed by an evil energy that turns him into the killer known as Jack the Ripper. This is a Jack created by the hubris of scientific achievement, who spends decades trying to ameliorate the damage he caused while possessed. This incarnation of Jack straddles the boundaries of hero and villain, humanizing the Ripper by putting his crimes beyond his control and casting him as contrite in the aftermath.
Another American television show contemporaneous to Sanctuary, Warehouse 13, also adds the supernatural to Jack the Ripper, this time for the series finale (aired 19 May 2014). Traveling back in time, the Ripper is confronted on his own nineteenth century London grounds and deprived of his magic lantern, whose light immobilizes victims. Jack’s appearance is minimal, insignificant to the rest of the episode narrative except for its role as the last case worked by the Warehouse 13 crew. His termination, resolving a century-old mystery, reminds the viewer of the mission the Warehouse agents fulfilled throughout the series, protecting lives and history, and their role in historical events. This Ripper is never given a name, but his ability to murder and mutilate his victims is drawn from the lantern that paralyzes and eventually kills whoever views its light. Jack is not supernatural, but aided by a lantern that is, and is ultimately stopped by a time traveler. Deprived of his power, the Ripper is simply another small problem to be solved by the agents of the Warehouse; viewers are given the dual satisfaction of a resolution to the series and to a pervasive mystery from cultural memory.
Lastly, there is Doctor Who, which addressed the Ripper not once, not twice, but four times (violating the rule against overlapping solutions in the same universe). The novel Matrix (1998) by Robert Perry and Mike Tucker features a Ripper spawned from the Time Lord The Valeyard, who uses the murders to power the Dark Matrix and alter timelines. In a rather self-reflective moment, one of the characters actually asks, “Why is everybody obsessed with Jack the Ripper?” (Perry and Tucker, p 179) Meanwhile, the more recent Doctor Who comic Ripper’s Curse (Lee, 2011) features a Ripper from the alien race “Re’nar”, and Sir Charles Warren of the “Ju’wes” race, directly referencing the 1888 quote associated with Jack the Ripper: “The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed for nothing.” The Eleventh Doctor and his companions Amy and Rory help Warren and Abberline stop the alien threat. However, in the television episode “A Good Man Goes to War,” (aired 4 June 2011), the Silurian Madam Vastra claims to have just eaten a presumably human Jack the Ripper. And most recently (Richards, April 2014), the Doctor Who related audio adventures of Jago & LitefootWax Princess” saw Jack the Ripper escape from prison and terrorize London once more. In this instance his goal is to resurrect a lost lover with organs and blood implanted in a wax figure meant to take the place of Queen Victoria. Abberline is given the chance to redeem himself by stopping the Ripper – with the help of Jago and Litefoot. Four different forms of Doctor Who media, four different answers to Jack the Ripper. The television show is generally the only form considered to be canonical, and would subvert the solutions espoused in the other three, so in the universe of Doctor Who, Jack the Ripper was eaten by a Silurian. Of course, by being Doctor Who, Jack’s fate can be rewritten; his crimes cannot, but his ultimate end can be.
Jack as Ethereal Other
This category treads the boundaries of science fiction and fantasy, as science fiction’s treatment of myths frequently does; some of the earliest ideas about the Jack the Ripper were that he was an evil spirit or a demon. Robin Odell’s study Ripperology notes, “Occult explanations of the Ripper’s crimes go back to the dark days in the immediate aftermath of the killings. It was not difficult to imagine that the gross mutilation carried out on Mary Kelly’s body was the work of the Devil.” This Ripper as Ethereal Other occupies the liminalities of the human and the demonic, representing both the worst of us and the evil thrust upon us by the universe.
Robert Bloch combined the alien/disembodied spirit identity for Jack in the Star Trek episode “Wolf in the Fold” (first aired 22 December 1967), in which an alien entity inhabits bodies and uses them to kill. Known as Jack the Ripper on Earth, this entity has moved from world to world for time immemorial with no other purpose than to take life. Ominously, Captain Kirk concludes, “When man moved out into the galaxy that thing must have come with him.” This is still Jack the Warning, reminding viewers that evil will follow us until humanity learns to rise above it.
Several writers have elected to cast a dichotomous perception of the Ripper’s entity by allowing for two possible solutions: either possession by malevolence or madness of the mind. Characters inhabiting the role of Jack may either truly be possessed by an external force of evil or they may suffer from a very real psychological ailment. In attempting to navigate the question of science and spirit, Peter Sasdy’s film Hands of the Ripper (1971, novelized by Guy Adams in 2012) casts the Ripper’s daughter Anna as the successor to her father’s legacy: is she a schizophrenic murderer like her father, or is she possessed by the spirit of her father? The spiritual, rather than the scientific, is Sasdy’s solution, as Anna genuinely is possessed by her father’s evil. Similarly, Don Ingalls wrote The Sixth Sense episode “With Affection, Jack the Ripper” (14 October 1972) for American broadcaster ABC, in which the psyche of the Ripper possesses a psychiatric patient, Adam, in an experiment to use ESP power to receive psychic impressions from the past. Adam begins to recreate Jack’s crimes and imagine himself in 1888 until another psychic stops him. In The CBS Radio Mystery Theater drama “The Strange Case of Lucas Lauder” (28 Februray 1975) the wandering spirit of Jack the Ripper again stalks the world. A death row inmate, Guy Richards, inform the warden – Lucas Lauder – that he is possessed by the spirit of Jack the Ripper. When each host of the spirit dies, a new host body is selected, in this instance, Lauder. Love, however, specifically the love of Lauder’s wife, is enough to overcome the power of the Ripper’s spirit in this version of the tale. In every instance this psychic transferal allows for the Ripper to bring his crimes into the Twentieth century; his Nineteenth century identity is supplanted by the modern vessels.
An episode of The Outer Limits, “Ripper” (aired 7 May 1999), also cast Jack as a disembodied alien spirit entity. In this instance, though, it is in habiting the women who eventually die by this possession, rather than any single male being responsible. This is one of the few SF portrayals of the Ripper actually shown in London 1888. Dr. Jack York, a disgraced physician, discovers that a strange entity is ripping its way out of women, creating the apparent mutilations recorded by the police. Jack becomes a prime suspect in the murders and is caught trying to ‘kill’ the alien while it still inhabited the body of Mary Kelly. Jack fails to stop the alien entity, and the dark final moments of the episode hint at a continuation of these killings in America. This inversion of Jack, from murderer to hero, allows our cultural memory of the Ripper to be turned on its head.
As far-fetched as many of these invocations of Jack the Ripper may seem, they have almost as much validity in the mind of the reader or viewer as those works of non-fiction; there is no Jack, so anyone can be Jack. His (or her) character is open to the public sphere for constant reinterpretation, shaping Jack into one of science fiction’s conventional tropes, a mythical tool that cannot shed its historical context, which keeps it connected to our reality via the shared knowledge of the audience. Jack the Ripper’s narrative history is set, but the endgame is still open to any writer. As long a Jack is given a name, a face, a motive, or simply a death, some explanation is better than the century of silence that has followed in the shadows of our culture since 1888.
Alexander, Karl. Time After Time (New York: Forge, 2010).
— Time After Time. Directed by Nicholas Meyer. 1979.
Bloch, Robert. “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper.” Weird Tales (July 1943), pp. 83-95.
— “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper.” Thriller. First broadcast 11 April 1961. Directed by Ray Milland.
— “A Toy for Juliette.” Dangerous Visions (London: Gollancz, 1967). Ed. Harlan Ellison.
— “Wolf in the Fold.” Star Trek. First broadcast 22 December 1967. Directed by Joseph Pevney.
Bloom, Clive. “The Ripper Writing: A Cream of a Nightmare.” Jack the Ripper: Media, Culture, History. Eds. Alexandra Warwick and Martin Willis (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2007).
Bolchert, Robert. “The Ripper.” Kolchak: The Night Stalker. First broadcast 13 September 1974. Directed by Allen Baron.
Connor, Michael. “The Strange Case of Jack the Ripper.” Quadrant (March 2010).
Coville, Gary and Patrick Lucanio, Jack the Ripper: His Life and Crimes in Popular Entertainment (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Co., 1999).
Flanders, Judith. The Invention of Murder: How the Victorians Reveled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime (London: HarperPress, 2011).
Gough, Alfred. “A Rip in Time.” Timecop. First broadcast 22 September 1997. Directed by Allan Arkush.
Ingalls, Don. “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper.” Fantasy Island. First broadcast 29 January 1980. Directed by Michael Vejar.
“Jack the Ripper (Character).” Internet Movie Database. <http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0031664/?ref_=fn_ch_ch_1>. Accessed 7/20/16.
Langford, David. “Jack the Ripper.” The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, 3rd ed. Eds. John Clute and David Langford. <http://www.sf-encyclopedia.com/entry/jack_the_ripper> Accessed 06/28/14.
Maslin, Janet. “Movie Review: Time After Time.” The New York Times (28 September 1979). <http://www.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9E02E7D8168E732A2575BC2A96F9C94890D6CF> Accessed 10/19/14.
Moffat, Steven. “A Good Man Goes to War.” Doctor Who. First broadcast 4 June 2011. Directed by Peter Hoar.
Nickel, John-Paul. “Endless.” Warehouse 13. First broadcast 19 May 2014. Directed by Jack Kenny.
Odell, Robin. Ripperology: A Study of the World’s First Serial Killer and a Literary Phenomenon (Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2006).
Richards, Justin. “The Wax Princess.” Jago & Litefoot. Series 7. Big Finish, 2014.
Sutton, Thomas C and Marilyn Sutton. “Science Fiction as Mythology.” Western Folklore, vol. 28, No. 4 (October 1969), pp 230-237.
Straczynski, J Michael. “Comes the Inquisitor.” Babylon 5. First broadcast 25 October 1995. Directed by Michael Vejar.
Wittenberg, David. Time Travel: The Popular Philosophy of Narrative (New York: Fordham University Press, 2013).