The did it for love or money...or both Some of them fabled femme fatales of yesteryear. some headliners in yesterday's newspapers. Jean Harris, Ruth Snyder, Kate Bender, Belle Starr, Bonnie Parker, Phoolan Devi, Lizzie Borden, Grace Marks, Valerie Solanas, Amy Fisher and more true life who, where, why, when, and howdunnits. Bandit queens, gun molls, mothers, and widows (often selfmade) this array of reallife women who murdered makes for fascinating reading. Thoroughly researched, with archival photos and illustrations.
Trina Robbins is an American comics artist and writer. She was an early and influential participant in the underground comix movement, and one of the few female artists in underground comix when she started. Her first comics were printed in the East Village Other. She later joined the staff of a feminist underground newspaper It Ain't Me, Babe, with whom she produced the first all-woman comic book titled It Ain't Me Babe. She became increasingly involved in creating outlets for and promoting female comics artists, through projects such as the comics anthology Wimmen's Comix. She was also the penciller on Wonder Woman for a time in the '80s.
Trina has worked on an adaptation of Sax Rohmer's Dope for Eclipse Comics and GoGirl with artist Anne Timmons for Image Comics.
Trina designed Vampirella's costume for Forrest Ackerman and Jim Warren.
In addition to her comics work, Robbins is an author of non-fiction books, including several with an emphasis on the history of women in cartooning.
She is the first of the three "Ladies of the Canyon" in Joni Mitchell's classic song from the album of the same name.
Trina Robbins won a Special Achievement Award from the San Diego Comic Con in 1989 for her work on Strip AIDS U.S.A., a benefit book that she co-edited with Bill Sienkiewicz and Robert Triptow.
I like true crime. I find it generally reassuring to read about, when they catch the criminals, and interesting anyway when they don't. Tender Murderers, being a collection of short biographies of female murderers, sounded like fun, the more so because it contained an account of the most famous headmistress in my high school's history (Madeira alums unite!). So I grabbed it, and I read it, and now I regret it.
I do have to say straight up that most of this book is pretty good for what it is. It's occasionally pretty flippant (the author talks about rooting for Jean Harris to shoot her lover, for example), and it has some facts outright wrong (mostly regarding the earlier women such as Belle Starr and Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde), but it's mostly precisely what it's advertised as; a breezy look at famous female murderers. It also shows some pop culture reflections of these women, which I appreciated.
AND THEN we get to the last chapter, women who failed to kill their targets (though not for lack of trying), and all of a sudden things get weird and victim-blamey. To begin with, the chapter is titled "Shoots Like a Girl: Women Who Missed" because... that's funny...? Robbins refers to Valerie Solanas as having "become" a lesbian, because that's totally how it works. THEN. Ahaha. Then the entire chapter on Amy Fisher.
Trina Robbins, can we talk? If a thirty-four-year-old man is having sex with a sixteen-year-old girl, the fault for this relationship is not with the girl. This goes for all the adult men Amy slept with. Amy Fisher was a child when all this went down. She was sixteen to seventeen. SHE WAS A CHILD. A CHILD. It is not her fault that adult men decided she would be fun to bang when she was a fucking child. No, she should not have shot her lover's wife. Yes, she deserved to go to prison. But the mocking and the blaming and referring to her as 'liking older men'? WAY UNCOOL.
So, no. Don't bother with this. The last chapter is such trash it taints the rest of the book. No, nope, no.
This breezy little book put me off at first. In the beginning, its sense of humor seemed forced and inappropriate. It might have been more closely copyedited. However, along about the entry on Aileen Wuornos, I began to fall into the proper frame of mind. Robbins isn’t mocking these women, only the poor choices they’ve made. She’s not holding them up as role models either, but as object lessons: with fewer advantages and less commonsense, any of my sisters—even I myself—might easily slide down this same track. This ought to be required reading for every teenaged girl, not as a primer in how to get away with it but in the sense of a how to recognize dumb mistakes before you make them.
Robbins has done her research, quoting from Bonnie Parker’s diary and screening the movie versions of Belle Starr’s life. The bibliography spans two and a half pages, complete with the encouragement, “And if you can find a copy of The Bonnie and Clyde Scrapbook, consider yourself the luckiest person on Earth.” The timing of this book’s publication seems lucky. I received it for review the same weekend that Chicago (the musical based on the lives of murderesses Beulah May Annan and Belva Gaertner, profiled in chapter 1) opened in movie theaters across the country.
Some of my favorite elements of the book are the illustrations. From the clandestinely shot photograph of Ruth Snyder in the electric chair to the Pre-Raphaelite portrait of Squeaky Fromme, from the Valerie Solanas paper doll to the newspaper illustration of Lizzie Borden fainting in court, it’s clear that the public has always hungered for images and information about tender murderers. Obviously, there’s a fascination with dangerous dames to which I’ve previously been oblivious. Not any longer, thanks to Robbins.
This review originally appeared in Morbid Curiosity #7.
As a historian studying Depression Era criminals such as Bonnie and Clyde, and drawn to the sensationalized Belle Starr, I thought I would pick this up as a fun, condensed read of other female outlaws. To my surprise, Robbins account of many things Bonnie and the Barrow Gang done are completely wrong. Such as the in the Joplin, Missouri shootout that Blanche Barrow put her white dog in her pocket, when in fact Snowball was never found. She also accuses Bonnie of murder, when in fact it has never been proven that she killed anyone. If Robbins cannot get the chapter on Bonnie Parker right, I wonder how the other ladies featured fare. Her writing style also comes off as haughty and snotty. I would skip this one, unless you enjoy reading more fiction than fact.
True crime with a big ol' side of feminist commentary. Trina Robbins, one of my favorite culture experts, neither applauds nor condemns women like Lizzie Borden and Phoolan Devi. Rather, she gives a brief cultural and timely context that sheds light on why these women murdered, and it makes all the difference. This book may look like a quick flip-through, but it's actually fun and thought-provoking.
If I could give this book zero stars I would. I got through the chapter on Kate Bender before I had to stop. At the end of the chapter, Robbins refers to Sweeny Todd as being a possible inspiration for the Benders. Robbins phrased it as if Todd was 100% a real person, but there is no evidence that Todd ever actually existed. Sweeney Todd was a character in a Penny Dreadful, which is a FICTIONAL story that was popular in England. It is disingenuous of Robbins to phrase her writing in such a way that leads the reader to believe that Sweeney Todd was a real person who lived and breathed. If Robbins got this wrong and gave misleading facts, what else about the book has misleading facts and straight up lies?
I picked this up at a library sale as I was intrigued by the idea of seeing what insight a female writer might have on the subject matter. Sometimes, the humor seemed odd (comedic relief can be helpful, but sometimes, it was oddly placed in the prose). Because the chapters were short and focused on different “women who kill” from throughout history, I read this inbetween reading several longer books.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Another very entertaining and intriguing read. Women who killed for love, for money, Kate Bender who was inspired by Sweeney Todd, bandid queens and gun molls, fabled femmes fatales, women who missed... everything inside with many black and white photos and illustrations. I also liked the references to movies made about those women. Highly recommended!
The front cover artwork sets the tone for this compilation of stories about notorious female murderers, which seem to fall into two main categories - those who kill in self-defense or because they've been pushed to the edge by abuse, and those who are just nuts or evil. Robbins inserts her sardonic humor into the accounts, which sometimes seems out of place for the grisly subject matter. I got the book for the chapter on Lizzie Borden and read the rest as it was relatively short, but the stories quickly began to run together in my mind. All in all, I wish I'd spent my time with something more uplifting and positive.
A quick overview of some notorious women killers over the years. Author opinions on certain facts and disputable things about the cases and whys sometimes clutters the story and taking away from the story.
Slight recaps of famous female killers, mostly in the last century, such as Bonnie Parker and Lizzie Borden. Nothing to go out of your way to find, but a casually interesting way to waste a couple of hours of time.
Interesting true crime stories but the book was marred by the author's pervasive commentary woven throughout. A more objective writing style would have enhanced the book.