This essay explores the premise that:
‘Literary journalism demands immersion in complex, difficult subjects. The voice of the writer surfaces to show that an author is at work’.
I refer to two book-length examples of the true-crime sub-genre in support of this statement. Beginning with Repeat Offender, written by veteran Las Vegas detective Bradley Nickell, it chronicles the investigation and prosecution of the most prolific career criminal in Nevada’s history, Daimon Monroe. This is followed by Joe Cinque’s Consolation, written by Australian novelist, Helen Garner who looks into her own past as she seeks to provide a voice for Joe Cinque, murdered by his Canberra law-student girlfriend in 1997, after being administered a lethal dose of heroin.
Literary journalism definitions do not consider the finer characteristics of its sub-genres (Roberts and Giles, 2014). It is often referred to as narrative journalism, creative nonfiction or fact-based storytelling (Writers and Editors, 2016), and relatively slower to construct than the reporting of ‘hard’ news as it breaks, or that which adheres to a 24/7 news cycle. Ricketson (2016) considers that hard news lacks scope by not exploring emotion, abstraction and reflection of an issue that long-form journalism permits through the investment of time. It also does not adequately depict ‘people in their full humanity’ (Ricketson 2016, p. 508), thus the reader is denied powerful and often unexpected contextual information. As with any creative endeavour, the level of immersion or emotional investment in literary journalism materialises as the overall voice of the writer. Thorough immersion has the ability to take a narrative from a merely informative work to one with the power to deeply move the reader and challenge their point of view.
Immersion in reportage of true crime can inherently impart unforeseen consequences on an author’s emotional state. It usually requires the author to research disturbing criminal acts and then describe graphic or traumatic scenes in the narrative. At the very least, the writer is personally changed for the experience.
Repeat Offender
Bradley Nickell is a twenty-three year veteran detective working for the Las Vegas Repeat Offender Program (ROP). The program focuses on protecting the community from the 20% of criminals who commit approximately 80% of all crime, known as habitual offenders (Nickell 2015, p. 5). In Repeat Offender, Nickell chronicles the pursuit of Las Vegas career criminal, Daimon Monroe, who he describes as ‘the most devious, calculating, prolific thief Nevada had ever seen, stealing millions of dollars of material goods, destroying livelihoods, threatening lives, and harming those who stumbled into his path’ (Nickell 2015, p.12). Between 1991 and 2006, Monroe manipulated his family, friends and fellow inmates to maintain his ‘career’, including the extraordinary decision to order contract killings on Detective Nickell, Chief Deputy District Attorney Sandra DiGiacomo and Judge Michelle Leavitt.
Repeat Offender is written in the first person that is well suited to conveying the vulnerability of the author to the escalating events. It has a distinctive ‘police-procedural’ style that is also a sub-genre of crime thriller fiction. The steady wearing down of Monroe and exposure of his plans by Nickell and his colleagues corresponds with an increasingly hostile, manipulative and callous individual, desperate for revenge, culminating in an extreme plot to murder. Monroe’s conspiracy theories, invented past and belief in his own lies are an indication of his mounting paranoia. Unfortunately for Monroe, Nickell is a detective who is almost always one step ahead, and this adds to an engaging ‘cat and mouse’ feeling to the narrative.
Nickell has an authenticity and recall for facts that any true crime author would hope to emulate. His extensive note-taking is part of his job; however it serves him well in Repeat Offender. Combined with transcripts of numerous taped conversations between the imprisoned Daimon and his outside contacts, and police interviews with key witnesses, the result is rich in factual detail. The narrative begins with a seemingly benign series of criminal exploits by Monroe; however the pace soon gains momentum as tension increases. Each chapter ends with an intriguing hook, compelling the reader to press on through the exhaustive investigation, as shown in the following passage: ‘…I feel he would never plead guilty. The attention he was getting was better than anything he’d had before. This was narcissism on steroids. Get ready for the show of your life. (Nickell 2015, p. 286).
Nickell’s voice imparts an incredulous curiosity into the narcissistic and relentlessly paranoid mindset of this habitual criminal.
‘He was not able to show genuine concern for others for any sustained period of time’…’He found it exciting to think he was the centre of a government conspiracy, and the FBI was coming to rescue him’…’In Daimon’s daydreams, people praised him for bringing the corrupt ROP team down’ (Nickell 2015, p. 248).
I don’t believe Nickell is being literal with this last statement: he is merely showing the mindset of a typical narcissist. He sees similarities in Monroe’s personality that disturb him, and reflects that although they share traits of energetic drive and perseverance, the similarities end with Monroe’s choosing a life of crime, with a level of manipulation and selfishness that Nickell is appalled by. Monroe persists in what Nickell refers to as ‘paper terrorism’ where he fully exploits the U.S. justice system at taxpayer expense by relentlessly writing letters and lodging formal complaints to this day, about his perceived mistreatment, expressions of conspiracy theories and various injustices.
In between a thorough recount of Nickell’s painstaking investigation, Nickell writes of his considerable empathy for the victims of a narcissistic sociopath. His voice surfaces with humanity and a positive tone, however there are moments that indicate considerable emotional restraint. In a scene where Monroe’s ex-partner Tammy informs Nickell of his use of a Taser on his own daughters ‘as punishment’- later found to be used in his sexual assault of them – Nickell writes, ‘I remembered the stun-gun device found in one of Daimon’s kitchen drawers. I clinched my teeth and felt the anger well up. I gave Tammy a moment to wipe her eyes and compose herself’ (Nickell 2015, p. 127).
It is not so much immersion in the narrative, but in the real life consequences of encountering Monroe, that have caused Nickell distress. The death threats were determined following Nickell’s core investigation prior to the case going to trial. Although these threats did not impact on his investigation, they did affect his family with tightened security measures and a desire to ‘get off the grid’. Nickell reflects in detail on the implications of dealing with a vengeful criminal in the closing chapter. ‘Daimon Monroe came home with me in September of 2006 and hasn’t left my house yet. But that doesn’t make him the architect of my future’ (Nickell 2015, p. 412).
Joe Cinque’s Consolation
Helen Garner’s 2004 work, Joe Cinque’s Consolation details the events surrounding Cinque’s premeditated murder by girlfriend Anu Singh in October, 1997. She was found guilty of manslaughter and received a sentence of four years on the grounds of diminished responsibility determined by the judge. Singh drugged Cinque over a period of two to three days, lacing his coffee with Rohypnol before injecting a fatal dose of heroin into his already impaired body. Singh informed her friends prior to the act that she wanted to kill both her boyfriend and herself, yet they did nothing to prevent the crime. Her close friend Madhavi Rao purchased the drugs for Singh, however failure in duty of care by Rao was too difficult to legally prove. Garner writes a literary epitaph for the voiceless Joe, who is regarded as having an unrealised life of great promise. Throughout the narrative, Garner anchors the story by highlighting the nature of an imperfect criminal justice system and appallingly selfish acts of Singh and others with the words, ‘Joe Cinque is dead’.
Helen Garner also adopts the first person voice, however she uses this perspective in an entirely different manner to that of Nickell. Inspired by Janet Malcolm’s The Silent Woman, Garner says in her talk for The Wheeler Centre (An Evening with Helen Garner, 2012) that she is influenced by the ‘psychoanalytic view of reality’. She embraces literary journalism which offers her the ability to interpret the behaviour, to extract meaning and partake in its critical reflection. She writes at a meta-narrative level, meaning that the writing process is documented within her storytelling. References to her own forays into drug-taking and casual sex in her youth are unflinchingly direct, described with unease in their similarity to Singh. Following a statement by forensic psychologist Dr. Kenneth Byrne, who claims that Singh suffered from a ‘severe borderline personality disorder’ (Garner 2004, p. 38), is ‘self-centred, angry’ and who ‘sees boys as an expendable commodity’ (Garner 2004, p. 44), Garner reflects: ‘Memories from my own selfish and carelessly hurtful youth flashed through my head, scenes I did not care to examine. I shifted in my seat. I had joked with the journalists about it, but this stuff was getting too close for comfort’ (Garner 2004, p.44). What really comes into play when a writer of literary journalism decides to take up a story that other journalists would rather shy away from? Garner’s decision to press on is often challenged. A friend of Madhavi Rao’s family asks Garner,
‘If your daughter was mixed up in a thing like this, would you want a book to be written about it?’ Garner reflects: ‘I said nothing. I dropped my pencil and listened to his version of another family distorted, shamed, brought low. I was affected by it. What further hurt might I inflict? What right did I have?’ (Garner 2004, p. 136).
This demonstrates how Garner actively questions her motivations for writing the book. ‘It was a confused drive that had been firing me, so far – first curiosity, then a repelled fascination – even an identification – with Anu Singh; then, as I came to know the Cinques, a contagion of horrified grief’ (Garner 2004, p. 137). She is welcomed by the Cinque family during a time of significant grief and rage.
Garner’s level of immersion indicates that she can’t escape the story, even if she had tried. Her distinctive writer’s voice not only suggests that she is at work, she is enslaved by it. Speaking at The Wheeler Centre, she indicates the weight of the commitment in following a case and writing about it: ‘Sometimes of course, I long to be released’. Garner says she does not actively seek out information to revisit a case as her ‘life would be unbearable’…’it’s a bit of a relief to get away from the intensity of it’ (An Evening with Helen Garner, 2012).
Although the work primarily seeks a voice for Joe Cinque, it also is a release for Garner. She is trying to comprehend an unspeakable evil in ‘such a woman’ (Garner 2004, p. 66), a dangerously vain, drug-affected, dominant, highly manipulative, ‘entitled’ daughter of two affluent parents who uses insidious strategies to get what wants. Garner is not easily fooled by ‘mean girls’, as evidenced in her earlier work, The First Stone. In her description of Singh at a pre-sentencing hearing, she writes, ‘Despite her sophisticated heels, her feet were placed neatly side by side, like a good little girl’s’. There is a touch of irony here given the earlier reference to ‘nails glowing with dark red polish’ (Garner 2004, p. 110).
McDonald (2011, p. 272) provides an overview of criticism for Garner’s literary journalism style. Scholars are concerned with her ‘writing that purports to be an analysis of the factual but privileges the emotional’. While Joe Cinque’s Consolation may not ‘cut to the chase’ in the style of Repeat Offender, it effectively communicates the depth and volatility of human emotions surrounding traumatic and often senseless events. Passing judgement on a writer who has never professed to be a journalist, let alone her contravention of ‘established professional journalistic standards’ (McDonald 2011, p. 272) ignores a freelance writer’s entitlement to write how they choose.
In a 2004 interview with Phillip Adams (Joe Cinque is Dead, 2004), Singh expresses regret for not speaking with Garner for her book. She considers her depiction as exaggerated on the presumption the Garner has only ever based her opinion on her photograph. She maintains that she is a different person now that she is on Zoloft medication daily and still intends to practise law, a point that greatly upsets the Cinque family given her capacity for premeditated killing. Singh also files away the narcissism which she believes was part of her mental illness at the time, and not a part of her actual personality. In a separate interview following on from his session with Singh, Adams invites Maria and Nino Cinque to discuss their story. They are still unable to forgive Singh for the devastation to their family and have only high praise for Garner’s book.
Comparison
Garner has written a ‘dissonant first person narration’ (see Aare, 2016) where she openly questions her motivations and overall approach, including ethics of covering the story. Her self-evaluation and habit of distancing herself from her former self are traits of dissonance. It is well-crafted and highly reflective throughout, thus firmly situated at the Romanticism (subjective journalism) end of CP. In the Eason Webb Continuum (Roberts and Giles, 2004), ‘CP makes the reporter’s own “subjective“ observations visible and combines a first-person narrator with a pronounced reflective and questioning approach’, whereas ER combines an omniscient third- person narrator with “objective” representation techniques’ (Aare 2016, p. 109).
Nickell’s writing flows exceptionally well without the need for romanticism. It is a ‘consonant first person narration’ (Aare 2016, p. 115) where the narrator is confidant in the story’s telling and does not question his treatment of the reportage. Nickell also writes in the CP space, yet he is closer to Ethnographic Realism (ER), where the highly visible Nickell appears almost omniscient, an all-knowing narrator who is integral to the story and has written with the benefit of hindsight for the investigation and trials. It is a subjective account for Nickell articulates strong views of where society is headed, citing courtroom antics of defence lawyers and frustrating plea bargains that secure a downward trajectory.
Conclusion
Both Nickell and Garner successfully allow the writer’s voice to surface through immersion into difficult, complex subjects, with their humanity equally heard. Nickell has the voice of a quietly confident detective whose frustration surfaces infrequently, whereas Garner does not hold back with her primal outrage. Garner’s readers are drawn into the story through exceptional prose that respects the victims and their endurance through shared pain. It makes us question why authors must suffer in their calling to drill down into a story, to unearth truths and provide a voice for victims who feel betrayed by the criminal justice system. Both Nickell and Garner were not obligated to continue with their books. Self-inflicted or not, it is an honourable pursuit that literary journalism offers in filling a human need for deeper understanding of complex issues.
References:
Aare, C 2016, ‘A Narratological Approach to Literary Journalism: How an Interplay between Voice and Point of View May Create Empathy with the Other’, Literary Journalism Studies, 8:1, pp. 106-139
‘An Evening with Helen Garner’ 2012, video recording, The Wheeler Centre, Melbourne, 22 November. https://www.wheelercentre.com/events/an-evening-with-helen-garner
Joe Cinque is dead, 2004, radio broadcast, ABC RN, 23 September, retrieved 28 Sep, 2016 at: https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/latenightlive/joe-cinque-is-dead/3426180
Dever, M 2008, ‘Hanging out for judgement?’, 23 July, 2008, retrieved 2 Oct, 2016, URL: https://web.archive.org/web/20080723085551/https://emsah.uq.edu.au/awsr/awbr/issues/138/dever.html
Garner, H 1995, The First Stone: Some Questions about Sex and Power, Picador/Pan Macmillan, Sydney
Garner, H 2004, Joe Cinque’s Consolation: A True Story of Death, Grief and the Law, Picador/Pan McMillan, Sydney
McDonald, W 2011, ‘Creditable or Reprehensible? The Literary Journalism of Helen Garner’, Chapter 15, in: Bak, J.S., Reynolds, B 2011, ‘Literary Journalism across the Globe’, University of Massachusetts Press, U.S.A.
Nickell, B 2015, Repeat Offender, Wildblue Press, Colorado
Ricketson, M 2016, ‘When slow news is good news’, Journalism Practice, 10:4, pp. 507-520.
Roberts, W., Giles, F 2014, ‘Mapping Nonfiction Narrative: A New Theoretical Approach to Analyzing Literary Journalism’, Literary Journalism Studies, 6:2, pp. 100-117
Writers and Editors 2016, What is narrative nonfiction? https://www.writersandeditors.com/narrative_nonfiction_57378.htm#bookmark1