You might think true crime is an unusual genre for book club reading, but I’m glad my book club chose Joe Cinque’s Consolation (2004). Not only does it recount a shocking story that should be better known, it is also a great vehicle for Helen Garner’s individual, almost confessional approach to writing. Perhaps creative non-fiction is a better description of the work than ‘true crime’.
In 1999, personally and professionally at a loose end, Garner takes up a suggestion that she write about the trial, then in progress, of Anu Singh, a law student at the Australian National University, who is accused of the murder of her boyfriend, Joe Cinque. What is beyond doubt is that Singh drugged Cinque with Rohypnol, and then injected him with a fatal dose of heroin. What is much less clear was whether she was mentally ill at the time, and could claim diminished responsibility. Also unclear is the role her friend Madhavi Rao, also accused of murder, played in Joe’s death. After initial hesitation, Garner finds she becomes almost obsessive about trying to understand the behaviour of all of those involved. Her deepest sympathy is for Joe’s parents, and she writes the book in order to make sure he is not forgotten; that can be his only consolation.
This case raises many issues – legal, medical, social and moral. What constitutes mental illness? Does all mental illness diminish responsibility for action, or only sometimes, and under some circumstances? What are people’s responsibilities for preventing a crime? Lots of people knew about Anu’s intention to kill Joe and her alleged intention of killing herself. Why did no one warn Joe? Why did no one call an ambulance earlier when he might have been saved? How was heroin so easy to obtain in Canberra, and why did bright, educated young people think it was a good idea to take it? What recompense can there be for parents who have lost their child, since there can be no recompense for the victim himself? Does the legal system really deliver justice? Is there a gap between legal responsibility and moral responsibility, and if so, does this matter? And what is the purpose of jailing people?
Amidst this welter of concerns, Garner does not even try to pick an impartial path. How could she? She does not respond objectively to the players in the drama; it’s not possible, for both practical and emotional reasons to do so. She seeks knowledge of Joe from family and friends; there is no other way of knowing him. Anu Singh does not agree to speak to Garner, so her portrait is drawn largely from what Garner learns from her family, from seeing her in court, and from reading the court documents. These include the one that opens the book, in which an Anu – evasive or hysterical? – gives a false name and address to the ambulance service while Joe lies dying. Garner makes an immediate emotional judgement about her: ‘She was the figure of what a woman most fears in herself – the damaged infant, vain, frantic, destructive, out of control.’ This possibly says as much about Garner as it does about Singh, but it sets the tone for her response to Singh for the rest of the book. Garner doesn’t try to hide the fact that she isn’t a blank slate. She comes to the story in rage and frustration with her own circumstances. She questions her own right to tell the story – and not to go on once she has begun. She gives her own perspective on everything.
I was both horrified by the events Garner describes, and completely caught up in her musings about right and wrong and meaning in them. This suggests the power of her writing. She has a tendency to generalise what may be something only she feels – as in the above quote. But mostly her reflections ask the questions anyone might draw from these events. Of Anu’s actions: ‘What is ‘simple wickedness’? Does such a thing exist? Was there ever such a thing, or did it die with the arrival of psychiatry?’ ‘Did words like remorse, repentance, redemption have any value for her?’ Of Rao’s relationship with Singh: ‘Where does one person’s influence end, and another’s responsibility begin?’ And if duty of care and duty to act are not the same thing, what of ‘the ugly divide between morals and the law’? Questions like these are for the most part unanswerable, but all the more valuable for being asked. Expect to feel outraged – but also baffled.
You can read more about Helen Garner and her work here, and an interview with her about the book here. If you are interested in what happened next, you can read an interview with Singh after her release from jail here, a hostile article about her here, and an interview with Joe’s parents here. There are plans for a film, which you can read about here. Hopefully Joe Cinque will not be forgotten.
[…] You can read more about Helen Garner here, and my review of her 2004 book Joe Cinque’s Consolation here. […]
[…] an interesting contrast to the non-fiction book The Consolation of Joe Cinque, by Helen Garner, which I reviewed recently, in which in real life, Anu Singh killed her boyfriend, but didn’t accept responsibility for her […]
[…] an interesting contrast to the non-fiction book The Consolation of Joe Cinque, by Helen Garner, which I reviewed recently, in which in real life, Anu Singh killed her boyfriend, but didn’t accept responsibility for her […]
Most interesting questions….
That’s not just logic. That’s really seblensi.
This forum needed shaking up and you’ve just done that. Great post!