True cringe: vintage true crime's biggest dealbreakers
the true crime that's worth your time
Let’s face it: the punchbowl of “heritage” true crime contains many a turd. But I don’t mean the often crappy prose or tawdry cover designs; I mean the moments in a genre narrative that make you mutter aloud, “That’s not how we talk about sex workers,” or grumble about “testilying” taken at face value by an author.
For me, it’s those two things; slut-shaming of victims and alleged perpetrators; and scandalized conflation of “existing as a queer person” with “motive,” to the point where I will quit a book/older docuseries episode because it’s that out of line with current thinking.
I could also give you at least three grafs on the unicorn that is a set of genuinely “shocking photos!” as falsely promised on a book cover but that’s an annoying bingo card for another day; today, let’s talk about this. What’s the most jarring aspect of vintage true crime for you? — SDB
Speaking of off-putting vintage true crime: don’t forget to make me read some! The June bonus-review poll is live all week, so go ahead and