I Am Woman, See Me Kill

The topic of why women are not only big consumers of dark, often violent crime fiction, but also writers of the same material, has been dealt with before. Many times, in fact. But the approach is usually flatter, more blandly journalistic than what Julie Bindel offers today in Britain’s Guardian newspaper.

“Given my work as a feminist activist and writer,” Bindel remarks, “you might expect me to hate the crime genre. I have spent the whole of my adult life fighting male violence, and much of my work involves researching topics such as rape, child sexual abuse, pornography and murder. I talk regularly to women who have survived sex attacks, and have had to look at crime-scene photographs showing mutilated corpses of women who have been raped, tortured and murdered. It was as a direct result of the hideous brutality of a serial killer--Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper--that I became a feminist in the first place. Yet, when it comes to fiction, the serial killer genre is my favourite.”

Nowadays, notes Bindel, “over half of all novels in the genre are written by women, and their books are most popular with a female audience--which is useful for the authors, since women read considerably more books than men.” For her part, Scottish novelist Val McDermid (The Torment of Others, The Grave Tattoo) contends that “[w]omen are far more in tune with violence than men”--a point echoed by newcomer Tana French (In the Woods), who is quoted as saying that “women make good crime writers because we ‘are made aware of the constant threat of violence in a way that men are not ... From childhood we know that there are people out there for whom [our sex] is enough to transform us from a person into prey.”

A reasonable point, though men are probably more prone to have actually engaged in some form of violence, whether as boys trading blows with bullies, or as adults mixing it up in alcohol-fueled barroom confrontations or defending their girlfriends from the unwanted attentions of rivals. Women, then, may see more terror in aggression than men typically do, which can also make it easier for them to portray the visceral fear provoked by violent acts. Jo-Ann Goodwin, author of the novel Sweet Gum (2006), adds that female novelists might also have another advantage over men. “[W]omen have historically done the dirty jobs, wiping the blood, snot and mucus of the wounded, sick and dying. ...,” she tells The Guardian. “Caring for the old, and coping with the physical and very visceral agonies of childbirth, we simply have stronger stomachs out of necessity, and far closer contact with the secrets of the body. Women can’t faint at the sight of blood. They would spend several days a month on the carpet.” Those experiences could add depth to their crime-scene-setting.

Bindel ends her article with a wonderful anecdote from author McDermid:

It seems that violent fiction is an odd sort of comfort to many female readers. McDermid was told a story by a librarian, about an elderly woman who came to visit her each week and would leave with a heavy armful of violent crime thrillers. One day she asked for a romantic novel instead. When the librarian asked why, she replied: “My husband died last week. I don’t need those books any more.” It seemed she had been channelling her anger towards her husband into the books. “Perhaps reading them stopped her from killing him,” notes McDermid. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

You can read the whole piece here.