Final Review Exam

;, All Slain

ange

'\Family Affair

·s

578

610

627

638

651

662

668

686

707

721

737

775

779

Introduction

In the ninth book of Tlze Rep11blic, Plato fa m ously observed that "the

virtuous man is content to dream what a wicked man really does." Elabo-

rating on Plato, Sigmund Freud argued that violent lawbreakers make it

possible for the rest of us to adapt to the demands of normality by acting

out, and being punished for, our own unacknowledged impulses. In the

view of the French socio logi st Emile Durkheim, the criminal contributes

to civ ic well-being not on ly by promoting a sense of solidarity among

law-abiding citizens, united in condemnation of the malefactor, but by

providing a cathartic o utl et for their primal vengeful impulses .

Such theories imply that criminals can fulfill their social function only

if the rest of the world knows exactly what outrages they have committed

and how they have been punished. That might be one wav of accounting

for the genre of writing collected in this book-writing that caters to the

public's need to hear the whole disturbing story. The question of how

much that need is rooted in a moral imperative rather than the lure of the

forbidden has often shado wed accounts of crime.

There is nothing new about this particular craving . That the strangu -

lation of a six-year-old who competed in child pageants, or the disap -

pearance of a vacationing co-ed, or the slaying of a pregnant California

housewife can preoccupy th e American news media for weeks on cnd-

supplanting events of more obvious global significance- is often taken

as a dispiriting sign of the debased sensibilities of our sensation -steeped

culture. Yet the appetite for tales of real-life murder, the more horrific the

better, has been a perennial feature of human society.

Long before the advent of movable type, accounts of shocking crimes

were disseminated orally through Europe in the form of crime ballads,

versified narratives of actual stabbings , stranglings, bludgeonings, and

dismemberments. Gutenberg's invention then became a means to profit

xi

xii • Introdu ction

from the appetite for such narratives. Any particularly notorious killing

was likel y to be written up in doggerel or prose and printed on broad-

sheets or in cheaply made pamphlets to be sold by itinerant peddlers.

Conveyed in the same tone of breathless wonderment used to report

other marvelous occurrences, from the births of two-headed babies to

the sightings of sea-serpents, these early crime narratives were, f(ir the

most part, crude productions, short on art istic se nsibilit y but full of

shocking detail and moralistic fervor.

America was from the beginning fertile grou nd for true narratives of

crime. The first popular form such accounts took was the Puritan execu-

tion sermon, a genre with roots in the O ld World that flouri shed so ex-

traordinarily here that it can fairly be claimed as indigenous. Typically

delivered right before the hanging, the execution sermon was similar in

both structure and intent to other Puritan discourse; the crime itself was

merely an "awful occasion" for the preaching of Calvinist doctrine. Fol -

lowing its initial recitat ion , either at church or on the scaffold itself, such

sermo ns might be printed and so ld as pamphlets and sometimes later

collected in book form. A number of these, like Cotton Mather's Pillars of

Sa lt, became early American best sellers.

Mirroring cultural shifts in the country at large, American true-crime

writing in the early republic became increasingly commercialized and di-

vorced from its religious origins. By the 1830s the marketplace was flooded

with purely exploitive accounts of real -life horrors. A favorite subject,

then as now, was lust-murder, often described in such explicit detail that,

according to one contemporary critic, young men cou ld learn more about

female anatomy from these tawdry publications than from medical text -

books. Cheap crime pamphlets, trial reports, and the lurid accounts in the

"penny press" were the main sources of true-crime thrills in Jacksonian

America, along with such widely distributed compendiums as The /frcord

o{Cri111es i11 the United States ( 1834).

Some of these early accounts detailed the misspent lives of pirates and

frontier desperadoes, but their main focus was on the kinds of homicides

that have always formed the central su ·

in its most typical form, and that in CODSCii

present collection. The pieces collected her deal with the sorts of killings committed b of a criminal way of life: bandits, hired assi literatures of outlawry and organized c1

own.) The focus of this volume is on thos

ding crimes that have from the beginnin1

nation: crimes that have, in the words of pi

Gordon Bennett, "some of the sublime

"frightful;' "horrid," "extraordinary" and'

ite adjectives of 19th-century sensation-:

can erupt in otherwise ordinary lives.

As the founder of America's first una

paper, the New York Herald, Bennett was a true-crime journalism. While earlier newsr

jamin Franklin, recognized the popular apJ

offered readers the occasional account of a

one before Bennett was so attuned to the i::

and violence. American readers, he declare

columns of the details of a brutal murder

words poured forth by the genius of the no

nett was happy to give the public what it v.

extremely graphic coverage of the most sh

famously the 1836 hatchet murder of the p:

Such was the success of Bennett's fon

Waldo Emerson was complaining in his

spent their time "reading all day murders

the most devout of these readers was Emt

thaniel Hawthorne. A self-confessed lover c

for-nothing books;' Hawthorne was an avi·

and trial reports throughout his life. His c1

tense that while serving as the American

;. An:· p,1rtillll,1rh· notoriou, killing

rel or pro _,,. and printed on broad -

s to he sold h1 itiner.rnt peddler> .

thlcss wonderment u:,ed to report

he birth, of t1\·o-headcd bahie:, to

,1rly crime 1urr,1tive' were, for the

on arti>tic 'l'i1sibilit1· but full of

tile ground for true narrati1·t', of

ounts took \\'Js the Purit,rn execu-

Old World that flourished :,o ex-

claimed ,is indigenou,. T:·picallv

execution >ermon was >imilar in

tan discourse; the crime it>elf was

Khing of Cah·inist doctrine . fol-

Jrch or on the scaffold itself, >uch

pamphlets ,rnd sometimes later

:se, like Cotton .\lather\ Pil/11r,; o(

:ry at large, American true -crime

·easingly commercialized and di -

330s the marketplace was flooded

·life horrors. r\ favorite subiect.

ribed in such explicit detail that,

Jng men could lea rn more about

cations than from medic1l tcxt-

rts, and the lurid accounts in the

true-crime thrills in Jacksonian

ed compendiums as The H.ccord

he misspent lin~s ofpir,Jtes and was on the kinds of homicidl',

Introduction • x111

that have always formed the central subject matter of the true-crime genre

in its most tvpical form, and that in consequence make up the bulk of the

present collection. The pieces collected here, with a few exceptions, do not

deal with the sorts of killings committed by men for whom murder is part

of a criminal way of life: bandits, hired assassins, gangsters. ( The extensive

literatures of outlawry and organized crime deserve volumes of their

own .) The focus of this volume is on those peculiarly horrific and unset-

tling crimes that have from the beginning haunted the American imagi-

nation: crimes that have, in the words of pioneering newspaperman James

Gordon Bl'nnett, "some of the sublime of horror " about them, those

"frightful," "horrid,'"'extraordinary" and "unheard -of" (to use the favor-

ite adjectives of 19th -century sensation-mongers ) acts of violence that

can erupt in otherwise ordinary lives.

As the founder of America's first unabashedly sensationalistic news-

paper, the New York Herald, Bennett was a seminal figure in the history of

true-crime journalism. While earlier newspaper publishers, including Ben-

jamin Franklin, recognized the popular appeal of grisly murder stories and

offered readers the occasional account of a particularly hideous slaying, no

one before Bennett was so attuned to the public's interest in tales of crime

and violence. American readers, he declared, "were more ready to seek six

columns of the details of a brutal murder ... than the same amount of

words poured forth by the genius of the noblest author of our times." Ben-

nett was happy to give the public what it wanted, providing extensive and

extremely graphic coverage of the most shocking crimes of the day, most

famously the 1836 hatchet murder of the prostitute Helen Jewett.

Such was the success of Bennett's formula that by the 1850s Ralph

Waldo Emerson was complaining in his journal that his countrymen

spent their time "reading all day murders & railroad accidents." Among

the most devout of these readers was Emerson's Concord neighbor Na-

thaniel Hawthorne. A self-confessed lover of"all sorts of good and good-

for - nothing books," Hawthorne was an avid reader of murder pamphlets

and trial reports throughout his life . His craving for such fare was so in-

tense that while serving as the American consul in Liverpool he had a

xiv • Introduction

friend ship him the penny papers so that he could keep up with the grisly

goings-on back hom e.

Herman Melville was likewise fascinated with accounts of real-life

murders, particularly the atrocities of the Harpes , two murderous cous-

ins who terrorized the Tennessee and Kentucky frontier during a killing

spree in 1798-99. The Harpes ' bloody exploits are invoked in the opening

scene of The Confirle11ce-Mn11, in which Melville describes a waterfront

ped dler hawking " th e lives of Meason , the bandit of Ohio, Murrel, the

pirate of the Mississippi, and the brothers Harpe, the Thugs of the Green

River country, in Kentucky." The 1841 ax-murder of New York City

printer Samuel Adams by John C. Colt (brother of the gun-maker) ,1lso

made a lasting impression on Melville, who 12 years later in "Bartlebv the

Scrivener" accentuated the grim impersonality of the urban office by re-

calling that it was in "a solitary office ... entirely unhallowed by hu -

manizing domestic associations" that "the hapless Co lt " had been driven

to kill "the unfr)rtunate Adams."

Neither Hawthorne nor Melville, however, published anv true-crime

writing. Hawthorne's interest in the subject is clear in a fascinating jour-

nal entry about a visit to a "Hall of Wax Statuary" included in this vol-

ume, while Melville limited his comments on true crime to a journal en-

try from November 1849 in which he describes how, on his first trip to

London, he paid hal f a shilling to watch the hanging of the married mur-

derers George and Marie Manning: "The mob was brutish. All in all, a

most wonderful, horrible, & unspeakable scene." Nor, strictly speaking, did

a writer even more obsessed with themes of murder, madness, and irre-

sistible impulse, their contemporary Edgar Allan Poe. Like Melville, Poe

was gripped by the Colt-Adams affair and used its most ghoulish tca -

ture-the victim's sa lted corpse smuggled aboard a clipper in a packing

crate-as the basis t()r his story "T he Oblong Box." Plot elements of his

unfinished verse drama Politinn are drawn from the so-called "Kentucky

Tragedy" of 1825 in which a young lawyer named Jereboam Beauchamp,

at the behest of hi s wife , killed her former lover, Colonel Solomon P.

Sharp. Some scholars are also inclined to believe that Poe 's pioneering

mystery story "T he Murders in the Rue Morgue" was at least part!~· in-

spired by <1 bizarrl' report in 1834 about ar

ize apartments. In all these works, how<

imagination, using rl'al-life incidents as s

The closest Poe c.llne to true -c rime wri

"The Myst en· of'."> !,1rie Roget," which, altl

in fact closelv based on the 1841 slaying c

store salesgirl '."> !arY Rogers, with the n

switched to Paris .

The list of important American writ

narratives from the stuff of actual crirn·

Charles Brockden Brown, the originate

whose 1798 novel \Vie/and was modeled

annihilation" (d escribed in this book OJ

include Frank '.'!orris's 1'vfcTeag11e, with i

Collins, an unemployed San Francisco ii

to death in 1893 after she refused him 1

Son, which draws on the trial of Robert

American accused of fatally assaulting a'

a burglary; John C)'Hara's best-selling

death of Starr Faithful!, a yo ung worna:

Long Island beach in 1931; and, more r'

horror novel Zombie, whose lobotomy·

eled on the cannibalistic serial killer Jef well as Theodore Dreiser 's An America

Gi llette-Grace Brown case of 1906, tal

from the historical truth of the events ti

A milestone in American true-crime wr

death, when Atl1111tic Mo11thly publishe

New England writer Celia Thaxter. Lil

account of the Trailor murder mystery,·

her career-her only foray into the r1

however, as groundbreaking work in t

work that relies on the conventions of

that he could keep up with the grislv

1scinated with accounts of real-life

>f the Harpe~. tll'o murderous cous- j Kentuckv frontier during a killing

rexploits are invoked in the opening

1ich Melville describes a waterfront

m, the bandit of Ohio. Murrel, the

:hers Harpe, the Thugs of the Green

841 ax-murder of New York Citv

)It (brother of th e gun-maker) dlso

\who 12 years later in "Bartlel1\' the

~rsonality of the urban office b\· re-

e ... entirelv unhalloll'ed b\· hu -

" the hapless Colt" had been driven

howeve r, published am· true-crime

ubject is clear in a fascinating iour-

Vax Statuary" included in this rnl-

ents on true crime to a journal en-

: describes hmv, on his first trip to

·h the hanging of the married mur-

The mob was brutish. All in all, a

•le scene." Nor, strictlv speaking, did

nes of murder, madness, and irre -

:dgar Allan Poe. Like Melville, Poe

r and used its most ghoulish tea -

~led aboard a clipper in a packing

Oblong Box." Plot elements of his

awn from the so-called " Kentuch

ryer nam ed )ereboam Beauchamp.

ormer lover, Colonel Solomon P.

:i to believe that Poe's pioneering 1e Morgue " wa, at least parth· in -

Introduction • xv

,pired bv ,1 bizarre report in 1834 about an orangutan trained to burglar-

ize apartmenb. In all these works, however, Poe gives free rein to his

imagination, using real-life incidents as springboards into the fantastic.

The clost'st Poe came to true -cr ime writing was in his detective story

"The Mv>ten· of i\.tarie Roget," which, although presented as fiction, was

in fact closely based on the 1841 slaying of the beautiful New York cigar-

'tore >,1lcsgirl l\lary Rogers, with the names changed and the setting

'witched to Pari,.

The list of important American writers who have created fictional

narrative' from the stuff of actual crimes is a long one, going back to

C harle, Brockden Brown, the origina tor of American Gothic fiction,

whose 1798 novel \Viela11d was modeled on a notorious case of "family

,rnnihilation " (described in thi s book on pages 39-44). Later examples

include !'rank Norris's McTeague, with its echoes of the case of Patrick

Col lim . an unemployed San Francisco ironworker who stabbed his wife

to death in I ~93 after she refused him money; Richard Wright's Native

.So11, which draw~ nn the trial of Robert Nixon, an 18-year-old African-

American accused of fatally assaulting a whi te woman with a brick during

,1 burglan·; lohn O'Hara':, best-selling BUtterfield 8, suggested by the

dc,ith of Starr raithfull, a young woman whose corpse washed up on a

Long 1,J,rnd beach in 1931 ; and, more recently, Joyce Carol Oates's 1995

horror lllwel /,0111l1ic, whose lobotomy-obsessed protagonist was mod-

eled on the ca nnibalistic serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer. All these works, as

well as Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy, based on the Cheste r

Cillettc-Crace Brown case of 1906, take major imaginative departures

from the historical truth of the events that inspired them .

A milestone in American true -c rime writing appeared 25 years after Poe's

death, when Atla11tic Mo11thly published "A Memorable Murder" by the

New England wrilt'r C elia Thaxter. Like Abraham Lincoln 's newspaper

,Kco unt of the Tr,iilor murder mystery, Thaxter's piece was an anoma ly in

hn career-her only foray into the realm of crime writing. It stands,

however, a~ groundbreaking work in the genre: an expli citly nonfiction

work that relic> on the conventions of sentimental storytelling to build

xvi • Introduction

suspense and generate both horror and pathos. In her skillfu l manipula -

tion of plot construction, point of view, dialogue, and other narrative

devices, Thaxter foreshadows the dramatic techniques that would come

to characterize the crime writings of Trum a n C apote and his fellow "New

Journalists" a century later.

American readers were inundated with c rime stories during the hey-

day of yellow journalism when, as A. J. Liebling recounts in his piece on a

turn-of-the-ce tury dismemberment - murder, newspapermen not only

reported on crimes but conducted their own independent investigations.

Though certain murder trials had generated enormous excitement since

at least the time of the Jewett case, William Randolph Hearst and Joseph

Pulitzer found new ways of transforming somber life -and -death pro-

ceedings into thrilling public spectacles. For example, in 1899 a dapper

young New Yorker named Roland Molineux was accused of sending cva -

nide-laced patent medicine to two fellow members of his exclusive Man-

hattan athletic club. Immediately dubbed "The Great Poison Mystery" by

the yellow press, the Molineux affair became the first great media circus

of the 1900s, a precursor of all the other wildly ballyhooed " Trials of the

Century" to follow, from that of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb to th e

0. ). Simpson extravaganza. Among the various techniques employed bv

Hearst to whip the public into a frenzy over Molineux's trial was the en-

listing of well-known writers to cover the story, among them Nathaniel

Hawthorne 's son, Julian, at that time a highly successful author who had

inherited his father 's fascination with horror, the supernatural, and crime.

In replacing the usual anonymous reporters with journalistic headliners ,

Hearst-along with his nemesis, Pulitzer, who assigned his own heavy-

hitters to the story- planted a seed that would come to full flower during

the 1920s and 30s, when celebrity authors such as Damon Runyon, Theo -

dore Dreiser, and Edna Ferber covered high-profile stories like the Hall -

Mills double murder, the Robert Edwards "American Tragedy" case, and the

trial of Bruno Richard Hauptmann for the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.

Other famous writers of the interwar era, among them James Thurber

and Alexander Woollcott, found an outlet for their own fascination with

murder in the pages of The New Yorker , which began its recurrent and

still-active "Annals of Crime" feat1

time, a host of other, far less prestig

selves exclusivel y to the subject. Th(

first appeared on the. newsstands in

Detective, whose immediate succes

reputable imitators such as Shock

Confidentinl Detecti1'e, and about si

underpaid hacks, the stories in th

almost alwavs formulaic and forg

pieces by writers such as Dashiell

appear in their pages.

To judge from the evidence of I

vorite true-crime publications wa

Critninnl Cn;es ofA111crica, which is

The Mnltesc Fnlco11. Duke, a fo rm<

Department, was one of a long fo duced true-crime volumes. Most,

Untied: The \Vay> and By- Ways of.

Geyer's The Hol111e5-Pict zel Case (l

life exploits; by contrast, Duke's i

criminal case histories, covering a'

rado cannibal Alfred Packer to the

and H. H. Holmes .

Among true-crime aficionadc

called them-the acknowledged

early 20th centurv was Edmund L

th e revered Scottish crime histori;

Joseph Conrad and Henry Jame

educated Pearson was a professio1

ous bibliophilic subiects before de

the field of true crime. His stylish,

historical homicides-both celeb1

ticular obsession of his) and obsc

of Willie Guldensuppe, later the

ithos. In her ;killful manipula-

dialogue, and other narrative

ic techniqu es that would come

1an Capote and his fellow "New

1 crime stories during the hev-

ling recounts in his piece on a

rder, newspapermen not only

vn independent investigations.

ed enormous excitement si nce

1 Randolph Hearst a nd Joseph

g somber life-and-death pro-

:or example , in 1899 a dapper

1x was accused of send ing cva-

nembers of his exclusi\'e :\1an-

The Great Poison Mystery" bv

ne the first great media circus

ildly ballyhooed "Trials of the

opold and Richard Loeb to the

rious techniq ues employed by

·r Molineux's trial was the en-

story, among them Nathaniel

1Jy successful author who had r, the supernatural, and crime.

·s with journalistic headliners,

who assigned his own heavy-

uld come to full flower during

Jch as Damon Runyon, Theo-

~-profile stories like the Hall-

merican Tragedy" case, and the

indbergh baby kidnapping.

1, among them James Thurber

or their own fascination with

hich began its recurrent and

Introduction • xvii

still-.icti\'L' "i\nnab of Crime" feature during this perind. At the same

time. ,1 host of other, far less prestigious magazines were devoting them -

selves L' Xliusi\·eh· tu the ,uhjcct. The l'rogenitor of this pulp genre, which

first appe.ll'ed on the newsstands in I <J24, was Bernarr i\ lacfadden\ 'fr11c

Detccti1·c. whose immediate success spawned a host of even more dis-

reputabk imit.llors such as Sl1ocki11~ l>etccti1·c, U11dcrworltl Detective,

Confidc11tiol J >ctc(fi1•t» and about six dozen similar titles. Pounded out by

underpaid hacb, the stories in these fact - ba;.ed crime monthlies were

almost alwa\'s ftirmulaiL ,rnd forgettable. although. on rare occasions,

piece;. b~ · \\Titers such ,is Dashiell I I.1111mett and Jim Thompson would

appc<tr in their pages.

To judge from the e\'idcncc of his nu\'els, one of Hammett\ own fa-

vorite true -crimc puhlic,lt ions W<ts Thomas S. Duke's I <JI 0 Cclc/1ra tcd

Cri111i111il Coses ofA111crit"11, which is rl'l(·rrcd to in both Tl1c 'rl1i11 M1111 and

The ,\/11/tcsc h1/t"o11. l1ukc, ,1 former captain of the San Fr,mcisco Police

Department , was lllll' of ,1 long line of American law officers who pro-

duced true -crime volumes. 1\ lost, such as ( ;eorge S. Mc\l\/atters's Knots

Untied: '/ he \\ill '.' 1111d lfr - IV1n'.< 0( 1\111crirn11 Jlctcctivcs ( 1871) and Frank

Geyer\ Fhc J /o/111cs -Pict::cl C11.<c I 1896 ), were account' of their own re;:tl -

life exploib; I)\' contr,1st. I )ukc\ inlluential book was a compilation of

crimin,tl case hi,tories. CO\'Cring .1 wide range of offender' from the Co lo -

rado c.mnibal Alfred P,icker to the Victorian serial killers Theo Durrant

and 11. 11. 1 lnlmes.

Among t ruc -cri lllL' ,1ficion,1dos-" 111 u rder fanciers," as he hi msclf

called thL'm - the acknowledged American m,1ster of the genre in the

earlv 20th centurv was Edmund Lester Pearson. Our country's answer to

the rL' \'l'red Scottish crime historian William Roughead (who numbered

Joscph Conr.1d .md l knry J,1mcs ,tmong hi' .idmircrs ), the 1-larvard-

educated Pe;1rsun was a professional librarian who wrote widely on vari-

ous bibliophilic subiecb before devoting the last dozen years of his life to

the field of true crime . His stvlish, often dryly humorous examinatio ns of

historical homicide,- both cekbrated I the Lizzie Borden case was a par-

ticular obsession of his I and obscure ( the 1897 murder-dismemberment

of \'\' illie CuldensuppL'. l,1tcr the ~ubiect of an article by A. ). Licbling

xviii • Introduction

included in this vo lum e)-appeared in \l111ity Fair, Scrilmer's, Liberty,

a nd The New Yorker, an<l were collected in a half-dozen books, beginning with hi s 1924 c lassic Studies in Murder.

horn Pearson 's day to th e 1960s, howewr, even the best American true -

crime writer,-such as Miriam Allen deFor<l and William Tibbetts Bran-

non-were, for the most part, known only to devoted fans of the genre.

Despite the genuin e lit era r y gifts of authors like Pearson and his contem-

porary Herbe rt Asbury, there was still a distinctly disreputable a ir clinging

to th e form. Th e book-length studies publi~hed by the Gol<l Medal im - print o f Fawcett from 1951 to 1957 arc a case in point. These first -ra te ac-

co unt s of classic American homicides, including Harry Thaw 's shooting of

Stanford White, th e Hall - Mills affair, and the Ruth Snyder-Judd C ra y

"Do uble Indemnity" case, were issued as cheap paperbacks whose garish

covers and eq uall y suggestive titles (The Girl i11 the Red \lcli·et .~ wing, The Girl in Lover's Lane, The Girl in the Death Cell) belied their adept, carefu ll y

resea rched contents. Even the cr im e essays of a writer as accomplished a:-.

Jo hn Bartlow Martin, an adm ired journalist who served as speechwriter to

President Kennedy and as U.S. Ambassador to th e Dominican Republic,

were quickl y consigned to a format that made his Butcher's I>ozc11 1111d

O th er Murders indistingui shab le from any other exercise in se nsa tion alis m so ld at bu s station s and corne r drugstores .

All th at changed in 1966, with the publication of Jn Cold 8/ood. Tru-

m an Capo te's clai m t hat his book represented a radically new literar y

genre, the " nonfiction novel," was widely dismissed from the moment he

made it , with critics quickly point ing to Meyer Levin's 1956 best sel ler

Co 111p11lsio11. Co nstrained by legal considerations, Levin-who described

hi s book as a "documentar y novel "-altered the historical facts of the

Leopold-Loeb "thrill killing" o nl y to the extent of changing th e names of

the principals. (The book was so faithful to the actual facts th at Leopold

even t ually sued the a u tho r for viol a tin g his " ri ghts of privacy.") But while

Capote's blockbuste r might not have brought abou t a re vo lution in litl'r-

ary form, it had an enormous impact on the marketplace. True crime was

in stantly eleva ted to a major publishing ca tegory and endowed with a

legitimac y it had never previously enjoyed.

To be sure, bookstores are still flooded

cases whose lineage can be traced back

of True Detective magazine to the pam

industrial times. At the same time, howeve1

particular crimes, written by major autho

houses, became a staple of the best-sel!e·

Mailer 's The Executioner 's Song, Joseph Wa

Joe McGinnis's Fatal Vision not only appe<

ences but garnered often dazzling reviews,

ingly heated controversy over the blurring

the decision to focus on self-con tained pi

these lengthy books is excerpted in the pre:

The prese nt volume seeks to reveal both

tions in the ways in which Americans have

important continuity is criminal behavio1

sion described in this book can arise in <

modified only by newer weaponry or otht

differs strikingly from era to era, however,

are interpreted. Acts otherwise analogou

times as arising from sin, or irrational ti inarticulate protest against abuse or oppre

mysterious workings of divine providence

century might discern evidence of an abs1

hardboiled cynicism evident in the joum

way in time to a psychologically inform<

view the criminal as a helpless victim of hi

the same is the sense tha t the most flagra1

from society a compulsion to find so me rr

meaningless. The human community, fin

within, searches desperately for a frame~

apparentl y unexpla inable.

For some, the true-crime genre will al~

In an essav on In Co ld Blood, the critic Rt

m Vc111i11· I-air, Scribner'.<, Liberty,

·din a half-dml'n books, beginning

r.

wever, even thL' best Ameri can tru e-

:ieFord and \\'i lli am Tibbetts Bran-

only to derntl'd fans of the genre.

thors like Pl'ar,on and his contem -

1 distincth· di,reputable air clinging

published bv the Co ld \ !edal im -

a case in point. The,e tirst-ratl' ac-

nclud ing Harri' Thaw·, shooting nf . c

and th e Ruth S1wdcr- ludd Cra \·

as cheap paperbacks whose gar ish 1e Girl in th e Red \ 'cll'l't Sw111g, The

th Cell) belied th eir adep t, carefulh·

;ays of a writ er as acco mpli shed as

.alist who scrl'cd as speec hwrikr to

;ador to the Dominican Republi c,

iat m ade hi s Butcher'.< [)o.::cn and

ny other exe rcise in sensa tion afi,m

·es.

>ubli cation of 111 Cold Blood. Tru-

•resen ted a radicallv new literary

ly dismissed from the moment he

to Me ye r Levin's l9='o bes t seller

derations, Le1·in-who d escribed

1ltered th e hi sto ri ca l fact' of the

: extent of changing th e name, of

ii to the actual fac ts that Leopold his "rights of privacy." ) But while

ought about .1 revolution in liter-

the marketpl ace. True uime was

g category and e nd o wed with a

ed.

Introduction • xix

To be sure, bookstores a re still flooded with instant books about lurid

cases whose lin eage ca n be traced back through th e anonymous pulp

of True J >crecrive magazine to the pamphlets and broadsides of pre-

industria l times. At the same time, however, serious book-length studies of

particular crimes , writt en bv m a jor a uthors a nd published by prestigious

houses , became a stap le of the best-seller lists . Works such as Norman

Mailer's The Exern ti o11er's So ng, Joseph Wambaugh's The Onion Field, and

Joe McGinnis\ Fatal Vision not on ly appealed to broad mainstream audi-

ences but garnered often dazzling reviews, even as they fueled an increas-

in glv heated controversy over the blurring of fact and fiction. (Because of

th e decision to focus o n self-co ntained pieces in thi s collection, none of

these lengthv books is excerpted in the present volume.)

The present volume see ks to reveal both continuities and transforma -

t io n s in the ways in which Americans have written about crime. The most

impo rtant con tinuity is crimin al behavior itself. The forms of transgres-

sion described in thi s book can arise in any place or time, their details

modified on ly by newer weaponry o r other technological changes . What

differs striki n gly fr om e ra to era, however, is th e way such transgressions

are interpreted. Acts otherwise analogous have been see n at different

times a> ari::>ing from sin, o r irrational thinking, or m e ntal disease, or

inarticulate protest agai n st ab u se o r oppression. Whe re a Purita n saw the

mysteriou:, workings of divine pro vidence, a write r at the end of th e 20th

century might discern ev id en ce of an absurd and random universe. The

hardboiled cynicism evident in th e journalism of th e Roa ring '2 0s gave

wav in tim e to a psych o logically informed approach more inclined to

view the crim inal as a helpless victim of his own impulses . What remains

th e same is the sense th at the most flagrant a nd disturbing c rimes elicit

from society .1 compu lsion to find some meanin g in acts that ofte n seem

meani ngless. T he hum a n co mmunity, findin g itse lf under assa ult from

within, searc hes desperately for a framework or w ntex t to explain the

apparently unexplainable.

For so m e, th e true-crime genre will alwa ys retai n a disreputable aura.

In ,rn essay on 111 Cold Blood, th e cri t ic Renata Adler deplored both the

xx • Introduction

original book and the 1968 film adaptation for playing to the bloodlust

of the audience by using "e very technique of cheap fiction " to intensify

the emotional impact of the killings. It is all too easy simply to turn in

disgust from any close examination of the worst human acts, an<l to brand

anyone who does not choose to look away as a voyeur or worse. On

some fundamental level it is undoubtedly true thar true -crime writing

appeals to what William James called the "aboriginal capacity for mur-

derous exci tem ent," a capacity that persists even among the most de-

cent and law - abiding c itizen s. The worst specimens of th e genre may

not rise above a quasi - pornographic level.

But blanket dismissal oversimplifies a complex question . People read

about true crime for man y reasons a nd on many levels. Some readers

identify with the victims and are moved to pity and terror by their plight;

some identify with those who pursue the criminal, and are either reas-

sured by the criminal's capture and punishment and the restoration of

order, or (when such a resolution is not forthcoming) are forced to con-

front the limits of human power in the face of unleashed malevolence.

Such unsolved crimes generate the eeriest spell of all, as evidenced by the

endur in g public fascination with Jack the Ripper. It would be na·1ve to

deny that an identifi cation with the evildoer, however covert or repressed,

can also be a powerful factor in the genre's hold, although deep curiositv

about those who commit evil is hardly synonymous with identification .

Beyond all e lse, true -c rime writing acknowledges the disturbing persis-

tence of the most frightening and destructive capacities of t h e species.

Sometimes that acknowledgment results in art of a high order; some-

times merely in news reporting we find impossible to ignore . We attend

to what it tells us as we would to an account of a natural disaster or

a freakish anomaly-except that the disaster, the anomaly, is all too

human . - Harold Schechter