*** I've written before about my admiration for Michelle McNamara--and specifically about McNamara's gift for finding one detail in a story that others seem to overlook (and then shedding brilliant light on that detail).
Hilary Mantel said any writer worth her salt should "light up" the topics she touches, and this is what McNamara does. For example, only McNamara, of all the storytellers I've encountered, points out that the McCanns were vacationing for six days in Portugal, and following a strict routine, before their daughter was abducted. (Does this mean that someone was watching them closely--e.g. a waiter at the bar?) And if James van de Velde didn't kill Suzanne Jovin, does the discovery of Jovin's body in the wealthy area of East Rock mean that a Yale undergrad *who was also a child of Yale professors* did the deed?
McNamara again dazzles me with her observations about the MacDonald case. Famously, MacDonald may or may not have murdered his family. Janet Malcolm claims not to be sure; Errol Morris seems to believe MacDonald is actually innocent. But McNamara plucks out one detail that seems very compelling: Apparently, at some point, MacDonald told his in-law that he not only saw the killer, but also *hunted down that killer and murdered him* ....Why would anyone make up this lie? MacDonald: "I made it up just to get my in-law off my back, just to give him some peace." But: McNamara, correctly: "Nope. People don't do that. Innocent people don't do that. That's a lie I can't quite overlook." (And who *would* overlook that?) A curious thing about MacDonald is this: He was a family annihilator who did not take his own life. Often, when men kill their families, they then murder themselves. But this doesn't always happen. MacDonald is one counterexample; the Watts case is another one.
*** I have always loved the Lizzie Borden nursery rhyme. That's for two reasons. First, it's creepy to combine the lurid details of the Borden case with the singsong patter of a nursery rhyme. Second, the song takes a bizarre twist: "Lizzie Borden took an axe; gave her mother forty whacks; when she saw what she had done...." and logic would dictate that the last line would be about repentance, but it's not that. It's upping the craziness. "She gave her FATHER forty-one." A delightful inversion. Upsetting our expectations. Content dictating form. The craziness of Lizzie's state of mind is reproduced in the craziness of that last line.
*** HBO Junkies: If you can't wait for "The Case Against Adnan Syed," which is one week away, do note that there are at least two other HBO documentaries you may want to consider. One is "There's Something Wrong with Aunt Diane" -- about a woman who drove the wrong way down a highway and thus murdered herself and several children. (Could Aunt Diane not have been an evil monster? Is there another explanation? Apparently, HBO asks these questions.)
The other documentary has a wonderful title: "Thought Police." It's about the Cannibal Cop, the guy who got in trouble for posting bizarre cannibalistic thoughts on-line. I love the title, because it works on two levels. This guy was indeed a policeman with troubling thoughts. And he was *taken down* by thought police--people who would punish you simply because of the content of your fantasies. But when is a fantasy more than a fantasy? One wonders.
I couldn't watch these--this weekend--because I was home alone for a few days, and I thought I would terrify myself. But soon enough.....
Hilary Mantel said any writer worth her salt should "light up" the topics she touches, and this is what McNamara does. For example, only McNamara, of all the storytellers I've encountered, points out that the McCanns were vacationing for six days in Portugal, and following a strict routine, before their daughter was abducted. (Does this mean that someone was watching them closely--e.g. a waiter at the bar?) And if James van de Velde didn't kill Suzanne Jovin, does the discovery of Jovin's body in the wealthy area of East Rock mean that a Yale undergrad *who was also a child of Yale professors* did the deed?
McNamara again dazzles me with her observations about the MacDonald case. Famously, MacDonald may or may not have murdered his family. Janet Malcolm claims not to be sure; Errol Morris seems to believe MacDonald is actually innocent. But McNamara plucks out one detail that seems very compelling: Apparently, at some point, MacDonald told his in-law that he not only saw the killer, but also *hunted down that killer and murdered him* ....Why would anyone make up this lie? MacDonald: "I made it up just to get my in-law off my back, just to give him some peace." But: McNamara, correctly: "Nope. People don't do that. Innocent people don't do that. That's a lie I can't quite overlook." (And who *would* overlook that?) A curious thing about MacDonald is this: He was a family annihilator who did not take his own life. Often, when men kill their families, they then murder themselves. But this doesn't always happen. MacDonald is one counterexample; the Watts case is another one.
*** I have always loved the Lizzie Borden nursery rhyme. That's for two reasons. First, it's creepy to combine the lurid details of the Borden case with the singsong patter of a nursery rhyme. Second, the song takes a bizarre twist: "Lizzie Borden took an axe; gave her mother forty whacks; when she saw what she had done...." and logic would dictate that the last line would be about repentance, but it's not that. It's upping the craziness. "She gave her FATHER forty-one." A delightful inversion. Upsetting our expectations. Content dictating form. The craziness of Lizzie's state of mind is reproduced in the craziness of that last line.
*** HBO Junkies: If you can't wait for "The Case Against Adnan Syed," which is one week away, do note that there are at least two other HBO documentaries you may want to consider. One is "There's Something Wrong with Aunt Diane" -- about a woman who drove the wrong way down a highway and thus murdered herself and several children. (Could Aunt Diane not have been an evil monster? Is there another explanation? Apparently, HBO asks these questions.)
The other documentary has a wonderful title: "Thought Police." It's about the Cannibal Cop, the guy who got in trouble for posting bizarre cannibalistic thoughts on-line. I love the title, because it works on two levels. This guy was indeed a policeman with troubling thoughts. And he was *taken down* by thought police--people who would punish you simply because of the content of your fantasies. But when is a fantasy more than a fantasy? One wonders.
I couldn't watch these--this weekend--because I was home alone for a few days, and I thought I would terrify myself. But soon enough.....
Comments
Post a Comment