Moore, with her highly unique experience is slowly building a podcast which is valuble in the true crime field, it deepens our understanding of the innocents effected by brutal crimes, the ones that all our storytelling forms, news, films, books have neglected. For those who truly seek to understand the most devient crimes, understanding not just what led up to them, but also there half life is equally important, and Moore does so well in giving a voice, to those who had previously been voiceless.
The fact that behind the fandom, obsessiveness and excitement that true crime can illicit in it's follower there is terrible pain. Not a pain that is showey and ostentacious, but the pain so many people carry with them every day, which becomes a constant companion and eventually is just part of you. It is a reminder of how things happen to people, and the choices that impact us the most are often the ones other people make, sometimes far, far away. Their ripples are sent out throughout the world, but always hit the heart.
Bates book is part of a genre I have decided to name True Dystopia, so unrelenting and difficult to counter are the subculture she maps. However, at the end of the book we do gain some glimmers of hope as to how these incidious and dangerous ideas can be dealt with, and it will take a lot more energy and time than I suspect many realise. It is not the internet per say that has created these groups, but general culture, the internet just allowed communications between their individual members, who have used that opportunity the way any living organisim does, to grow, to become stronger, to reproduce.
Once you've been consuming true crime for a while things can get, well, a bit boring. It is possible to hear the same cases again, and again, all researched from the same Wikipedia article, and as humans we crave novelty. However as a genre which has to do more than any other in terms of ethical naval gazing the search for novelty is something that has to be finely and carefully balanced with what is both legal and moral. It is this difficult high wire act where Unravelled is placing itself.
I think Thunderbay is a testament to Ryan McCann's, persistent yet somehow still gentle focus on this issue, and for pulling back from the true crime trope of focus on individuals, and looking at the bigger picture of how crime intersects with literally everything else. As humans we are messy, and complex and unpredictable, and our desire to want crime wrapped up neatly and quickly is probably a reflection of the fact crime gives us a sense of a lack of control.
Yet, when we look at the evidence over time it's likely that women have been just, if not more prolific in their voilence. A combination of using methods which have been more difficult to detect and less showy, such as posoin, combined with cultural taboo's that still exist around women, caring and motherhood which mean their violence can often not be contemplated, very weirdly leads me to conclude this is yet another area in which women's contributions have been overlooked. And as pshycologist Anna Motz says, when we deny women's violence, we deny women.
Finishing the podcast felt to me like the time me and my wee brother, who is only eighteen months younger than me, both got on a see-saw, but as we were the same weight, it didn't move at all. No seeing, no sawing, just sitting there awkwardly in the middle, with our feet dangling off the ground, waiting for a grown-up to come along and help.
The Shrink Next Door is fascinating, horrifying and baffling all in one, but mostly it feels a little incomplete, and that's not just to do with the lack of bodies.
The road to hell is paved with good intention, and ego's that need the propping up of "doing good."
Podcast episode here. While I try to avoid spoilers in my reviews, with this one it has not been possible, mainly because the pod progresses in a way I want to discuss, and talk about - which is a testament to how powerful a piece of investigative journalisim it is. If you do not want …