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Justice or Just Another One?
Luckily I’ve never been one for romantic movies. I always preferred a horror movie. I just didn’t know that my love life would become the worst horror movie I could ever encounter. I was only 18 when I met the monster who presented as a half decent human being. I didn’t know the world very well at that point and he made sure that he became my world. The control and coercion, at the time, seemed like romantic gestures. It’s only with hind sight that I can look back and realise every “kind” and “loving” gesture came from a menacing place of control and selfishness. I was fully under his spell. But anyway, I won’t get into every detail ever. I guess I just wanted to preface this with the fact that abuse doesn’t just start with abuse. It starts with manipulation that is often disguised as love and romance in a twisted way.
This man went on to break me down into a shell of myself before the physical abuse started. Even then, him getting that angry was somehow always my fault. I caused that reaction in his sick, twisted mind and I started to believe it was my fault too. The final incident took place and the last thing I can clearly recall is hearing how he was going to cave my head in before I felt this horrendous pressure on my neck with his other hand keeping me from making any noise that would expose him.
By chance, I managed to get free and RUN to my family. Immediately took photos of my injuries too because even in my state, I know how the Criminal Justice System would not be on my side without evidence they deemed suitable.
Anyway, my case ended up going to trial. Further trauma. Great. I had to relive the entire relationship by having every part of my character questioned on the stand like I was the criminal in this instance. I even got told by his defence that I had “Histrionic Personality Disorder”. Something I have never been diagnosed with, or even been assessed for. Just another way the CJS likes to pathologise women’s trauma. Worst of all, turns out ‘Doctor Defence’ ended up dropping my abuser as he was professionally embarrassed when he realised he knew my mother who was also a witness. Wonderful. This meant I got to go through the process of being criminalised, questioned, diagnosed with disorders I hadn’t heard of at the time, hear the messages, see the photos ALL over again.
Although “justice” prevailed in as much as he was found guilty. All for the sake of a suspended sentence. Perfect. The man who made me feel like he was my world then also tried to end my life was still going to be free enough to see me. The law wasn’t enough to stop him from harming me, why would it be enough to stop him now?
Fortunately for me, it stopped him harming me. However, it did not stop him harming his next victim. For the sake of her, I won’t share any details of her story as it is not mine to share. Yet, this man is now behind bars for a pretty short period of time as he has once again harmed a woman. Evidently, I was right. The law was not enough to stop him. Which leads me to the point of this post, at what stage does the CJS actually start to take women’s pleas to feel safe seriously? Does this man have to go as far to take away a woman’s life entirely before someone finally deems him as dangerous? Why was my harm not enough? Would the CJS have suddenly seen me as a victim, rather than making me feel like a criminal in court, if I was eternally silenced? Why do women have to keep dying at the hands of men because the CJS protects domestic abusers?”
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#Criminology Book Club: The Silent Patient
As you know from our last #CriminologyBookClub entry a small group of us decided the best way to thrive in lockdown was to seek solace in reading and talking about books. Building on the success of the last blog entry, we’ve decided to continue with all seven bloggers contributing! Our third book was chosen by @5teveh and it’s got us all talking! Without more ado, let’s see what everyone thought:
I enjoyed reading The Silent Patient – it was a quick and gripping read that kept me guessing (and second guessing!) throughout. I found it almost impossible to put down and could have happily read it in one sitting if time allowed. I didn’t empathise with many of the characters however, and found a couple of the plot points frustrating. I’d still recommend it though!
@saffrongarside
This is a psychological thriller that embraces Greek drama and pathos. From the references to Alcestis by Euripides and the terrible myth of death swapping to the dutiful Dr Diomedes, the characters are lined up as they are preparing from their dramatic solo. The doctor is trying to become a comforting influence in the fast pace of the story only to achieve the exact opposite. In the end he leaves in a puff of smoke from one of his cigars. The background of this story is played in a psychiatric facility, that is both unusual and conducive to amplify the flaws of the characters. This is very reminiscent of all Greek tragedies where the hero/heroine is to meet their retribution for their hubris. Once punishment comes the balance of the story is restored. This norm seems to be followed here.
@manosdaskalou
Well done to @Steve for selecting the anxiety inducing book that is The Silent Patient. I found it difficult to put this book down, as it was easy to read and a definite page turner. Once I started reading, I desperately wanted to find out what had actually happened. If Alicia had a perfect life then why would she shoot her husband FIVE TIMES in the head? It’s difficult to say much about this book without giving the plot away. I did feel for Alicia as she was surrounded by a sea of creepy and unlikable characters. Some might find the portrayal of mental health and Alicia (as the main female character) slightly insulting. Although, as we discussed in the book club, perhaps we should see this book for the thriller that it- and not try to criminologically analyse it?! As far as thrillers go, I think the book is a very good read.
@haleysread
The Silent Patient is 339 pages of suspense-filled, gripping fiction which leaves the reader with their jaw wide open. As a novel it is brilliant. Binge-worthy, unbelievable and yet somehow believable: that is until you have finished the book, and you sit back and start to pull the novel apart. DO NOT DO THIS! Get lost in the story of Theo and Alicia, be gripped and seated on the edge of your seat. It is worthy of the hype (in my humble opinion)!
@jesjames50
The Silent Patient is without a doubt a page turner! From start to finish the mystery of Alicia Berenson’s silence keeps you guessing. It is important for me to warn perspective readers that, when you start reading, it is difficult to put down, so clear your schedule. Throughout the novel you are guided through the complex life of psychotherapist Theo Faber and his mission to understand and connect with his patient that has ‘refused’ to talk, after she is found guilty of killing her husband. Alicia Berenson is admitted to a mental health hospital. This is the backdrop to disturbing yet intriguing story of how Alicia’s seemingly perfect life comes crashing down. With quirky characters, shocking revelations and suspense throughout The Silent Patient is a must read. Don’t take the story at face value, as there is a brilliant twist at the end.
As is only right and proper, we’ll leave the final word to @5teveh, after all he did choose the book 🙂
@svr2727
Not the normal sort of book I’d read, I was drawn in by the comments on the cover. It is impossible to warm to any character in The Silent Patient. The book is quite fast paced, and the writing makes it a real page turner. If you think you’ve got it, you are probably wrong. This is not a usual ‘who done it’ narrative. There are twists and turns that lead the reader through a small maze of sub plots involving characters in a tight setting. If you are looking for a hero or heroine and a happy ending, this is not the book for you. An enjoyable read in a sadistic sort of way.
@5teveh
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The criminology of real life
Ever since I joined academia as a criminology lecturer, I found the question asked “what do you do” to be one that is followed by further questions. The role or rather title of a criminologist is one that is always met with great curiosity. Being a lecturer is a general title that most people understand as a person who does lectures, seminars, tutorials and workshops, something akin to a teacher. But what does a criminology lecturer do? Talks about crime presumably…but do they understand criminals? And more to the point, how do they understand them?
The supposed reading of the criminal mind is something that connects with the collective zeitgeist of our time. Some of our colleagues have called this the CSI factor or phenomenon. A media portrayal of criminal investigation into violent crime, usually murder, that seems to follow the old whodunit recipe sprinkled with some forensic science with some “pop” psychology on the side. The popularity of this phenomenon is well recorded and can easily be demonstrated by the numerous programmes which seemingly proliferate. I believe that there are even television channels now devoted completely to crime programmes. Here, it would be good to point out that it is slightly hypocritical to criticise crime related problems when some of us, on occasion, enjoy a good crime dramatisation on paper or in the movies.
Therefore I understand the wider interest and to some degree I expect that in a society dominated with mass and social media, people will try to relate fiction with academic expertise. In fact, in some cases I find it quite interesting as a contemporary tool of social conversation. You can have for example, hours of discussion about profiling, killers and other crimes with inquisitive taxi-drivers, border-control officers, hotel managers etc. They ask profession, you respond “criminologist” and you can end up having a long involving conversation about a programme you may have never seen.
There is however, quite possibly a personal limitation, a point where I draw the line. This is primarily when I get asked about particular people or current live crime cases. In the first year I talk to our students about the Soham murders. A case that happened close to 15 years ago now. What I have not told the students before, is the reason I talk about the case.
Fifteen years ago I was returning from holiday and I took a taxi home. The taxi driver, once he heard I was a criminology lecturer, asked me about the case. I remember this conversation as the academic and the everyday collided. He could not understand why I could not read the criminal intentions of the “monsters” who did what they did. To him, it was so clear and straightforward and therefore my inability to give him straight answers was frustrating. I thought about it since and of course other situations in similar criminal cases that I have been asked about. Why do people want complete and direct answers to the most complex of human behaviours?
One of the reasons that there is a public expectation to be able to talk about individual cases rests on the same factor that makes crime popular; its media portrayal. The way we collectively respond to real crime cases reflects a popularised dramatisation. So, this is not just a clash between academic and lay, but reality and fiction.
Thoughts from the criminology team 