Where do these memories come from?

Who's memories are these? I feel like Jason Bourne, as a shock wave of memories flood into my rain from nowhere. I see visions of 19th century England, a character called the Thwacker, and torturous little children. None of this seemed to make any sense until I realized that these were snippets of the book: The Shroud of the Thwacker by Chris Elliott. Anyhow, for some reason I had misplaced this memory of ever reading this book. What a shame. I thoroughly enjoyed the bizaar story line that unravels in this Sherlock Holmesesk tale. If you simply like off the wall, inventive stories that will question your own sanity, then you should definitely give this book a whirl. It's a pretty quick read and will mentally warp your once rational mind.