Blind Sacrifice: Portraits of Murderers

Jeffrey M. Karabanow is an assistant professor at Dalhousie
University’s Maritime School of Social Work.

Susan Gabori’s exposé of eight murderers offers a unique glimpse into
the lives of an often “unreachable” population. The book consists of
uninterrupted, in-depth narratives of Gabori’s
participants—unmasking portraits of life events that include intimate
details of childhood experiences, adolescent struggles, tumultuous
relationships, prison life, and post-prison existence. It is difficult
not to be struck by the resilient, eloquent, and reflective tone of the
author’s participants, who evince remorse as well as intellect as they
explore their crimes. While you do not pity their punishments, you
sympathize with their life events. Each narrative is filled with stories
of childhood poverty, sexual and physical abuse within the family,
alcohol/drug misuse as adolescents, loneliness, uncontrollable anger,
and emotional pain. These circumstances appear to act as triggers to
“losing control” and acting out their violent rage. As the title
implies, the act of murder is perceived as “blind sacrifice” to
intense feelings of hurt.

Each participant describes his or her realization of the violent
act—epiphanies of rage, isolation, and past abuse. All eight stories
are as much about becoming “whole” and finding one’s “peace”
as they are about crime and violence. Within the rhythm of their own
language, perception, and experience, Gabori’s participants highlight
transformations from “murderers” to “normal citizens” through
acknowledgment of their actions. Remarkably, prison life is seen here as
a catalyst to such a journey. As one participant remarks, “Strange to
say, prison freed me.”

While each narrative is unfiltered—allowing for vivid images of each
participant’s story to emerge—they are left standing alone without
any analysis by the author. We are presented with eight stories of
diverse individuals (vis-а-vis age, gender, sexual orientation, and
ethnicity) who share remarkably common histories. As such, many
questions remain unexplored. For example, what are some of the
overarching narratives that can explain these life events? How can we
understand poverty, abuse, and anger within these contexts? How much of
their self-identification has been shaped by their prison/correctional
surroundings? Gabori’s book is a richly detailed exploration—the
only missing piece is the author’s insight.