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the breakfast table: An e-mail conversation about the news of the day.

Daphne Merkin and Christopher Caldwell

the breakfast table
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from: Daphne Merkin

True-Crime Addictions

Posted Wednesday, July 14, 1999, at 3:23 PM ET

Dear Chris,

I'm getting back to you a bit late today--perhaps this should be temporarily re-titled "Afternoon Snack" rather than "Breakfast Table"--which only serves to underscore my belief that I am irreversibly sidetracked when I dip into the newspaper first thing in the day rather than last. I don't read like a journalist at all--not that I have any great admiration for journalists--but rather like a 19th-century spinster who has nothing better to do with her day than ruminate on the meaning of serial killers and summer desserts.

I notice that David Mamet, whether one over- or under-rates him, has written a play for children and that Merrill Lynch's quarterly earnings have surpassed expectations. (By the way, I forgot to point out to you that no capo or titan would be even remotely tempted to move into my apartment, unless he were willing to compromise all his standards for light, space, and quiet. Just for the record.)

I was also intrigued to read that marriage is not quite as dead as it's been made out to be and that the divorce rate is now 1 out of 3 instead of 1 out of 2. But what really fascinated me was the article about the arrest of "the railroad killer," a k a Rafael Resendez-Ramirez. It gives one hope that law-enforcement people are not only the macho and anti-psychological sort who managed to make a mess of Waco. The Texas ranger, Andrew Walker, who contacted the killer's sister and skillfully arranged for his surrender sounds like an American hero, right down to his receiving the call that Ramirez wanted to come in on his cellular phone while on a fishing trip.

But serial killers are a subspeciality of mine, starting with Ted Bundy and going up through the latest ones. Jeffrey Dahmer struck me as especially curious: He seemed encased in ice, as though his blood has stopped running long ago. No wonder he required fresh infusions. Do you ever watch those late-night shows like "Unsolved Mysteries," or "American Justice" ? I used to be addicted to them. When I was in book publishing the wisdom was that the true-crime genre didn't sell well in hardcover, with very rare exceptions. Fictional serial killers, however, seem to do very nicely, to judge by Hannibal's position on the best-seller list, but I've never been as taken with the made-up ones. Give me a real killer any day.

As you can see, my mind is on the ghoulish rather than the sportif today, but I agree with you about that ridiculous disrobing of Brandi Chastain. I could have told you her rationale--as one woman assessing another--without that quote, just by looking at her biceps. When you think of the staggering amount of time and sweat that goes into creating muscular upper arms on a woman (when their natural state is firmish at best, floppy at worst) it makes sense that she would feel compelled to show them off. Otherwise, why bother? I say this as a confirmed nonexerciser, although I keep promising myself to join a gym and get with the program. The whole culture of working out makes me so weary, though; I've even thought of writing a (short) book about it. I've already designed the cover in my head, featuring a photo of some Brandi Chastain type, her muscular arms held in close to her supernally fit body as she runs on a treadmill, under a title which reads: WALKING TO NOWHERE. You like?

I'm going to a screening of the Kubrick tonight. Have you seen it yet? It's one of a tiny number of movies that I've been interested in seeing since I stopped reviewing them for The New Yorker. One wonders, of course, could it possibly be steamy, given Cruise's reputed predilections and Kidman's somewhat cool presence. Odd that Kubrick thought it was so important to de-Judaicize Schnitzler's characters. Well, evening's just around the bend, so I'll try and get some work done before we meet again.

Best, Daphne

the breakfast table
entries
12345678910111213141516
from: Daphne Merkin

True-Crime Addictions

Posted Wednesday, July 14, 1999, at 3:23 PM ET
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Daphne Merkin is a staff writer at The New Yorker, where she writes "Reckonings," a column on personal and cultural life. She is the author of Dreaming of Hitler, a collection of essays (click hereto buy the book). Christopher Caldwell is a senior writer at the Weekly Standard and a columnist for the New York Press.
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