Spectral Evidence

by Moira Johnston

Relates the ordeal of one family torn apart by a daughter's claim of sexual abuse by her father, which she remembered through her therapists' recovered memory techniques

Genres: Nonfiction, True Crime, Psychology, Crime, Law

440 pages, Hardcover

First published May 26, 1997

Reviews

[Tiffany Wright · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Ramona case is fascinating and heartbreaking, particularly if you have an interest in the intersection of psychology and law. It is evident that Johnston did her research. That being said, I’m not convinced this book needed to be 400-some pages long. Johnston is a better reporter than she is a writer. There were quite a few places where I got distracted by typos and redundant phrasing. That isn’t to say the prose isn’t skillful—just that it clearly takes a back seat to the author’s compulsion to list every single fact she learned about the case. Sometimes Johnston will include a humanizing quip or question that reminds us we’re not just reading an expanded Wikipedia article, but more often than not her voice gets buried under all the minute details and technicalities that probably could have been condensed without compromising the subject matter. I didn’t need to know as much about the politics of Napa Valley winemaking as I do now. It’s also obvious which side of the fence the author sits on, so if it’s an unbiased account of the memory debate you seek, look elsewhere (personally, I agree with her conclusion, so I didn’t have a problem with the slant). Even though it took me almost a year to slog through because I kept picking it up and putting it back down, I’m glad to have spotted this title.

[Anna Engel · Rating 3 out of 5]

As fascinating as it is disturbing. Hindsight can be 20/20, but memory itself is fallible and subject to suggestion, manipulation, and informational gaps. I find it very interesting that such a premise could be so contentious. Anyone who has mis-remembered anything should have some understanding of the fundamental idea that memory is utterly subjective.

The story is compelling, but you keep hoping that it's fiction. It hit me recently that it's not fiction, when we went to the liquor store and I saw a display of Mondavi wine.

One very useful addition to the book would be a glossary of names – there are so many lawyers, it's hard to keep them straight sometimes.

Also, I'm not sure a study of the minutiae of the trial is necessary. Far more interesting is the story involved – not the little games lawyer play.

[Diana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Johnston does an impressive job distilling a very complicated serious of events, circumstances, and legal proceedings into a mere 400 pages and also fitting this family’s situation into context inside the larger issue of the memory wars. This book is the product of truly dedicated, extensive research and interviews the likes of which we rarely see.

This book is a very specific kind of law nerd’s wet dream: Those who love the rules of evidence and civil procedure. I am that specific kind of law nerd, and I loved all the portions discussing the judge’s evidentiary decisions in this case. I fully nerded out.

However, I had a couple of issues with the author’s characterizations. At the end of the book she discusses her approach to telling a story viewed wildly differently depending on who is telling it. I think she mostly achieves her aims. But we all have biases, and I think she reveals hers in two areas.

First, her negative characterization of feminism and her perception of the movement’s place in the memory wars probably reflects the era of publication (1997). The author repeatedly references the actions of feminists, at times using the actions of famous women like Gloria Steinem and Gloria Allred to reference a feminist approach to accusations of sex abuse. Neither of these women is in the medical or scientific professions such that she would be in a position to parse the confusing, polarizing information available about the memory wars at that time. Further, feminists on the whole do tend to err on the side of believing accusers. And as a feminist myself, even after reading more extensively about the memory wars, I continue to hold this view. Giving accusers the benefit of the doubt isn’t a problem if the people we trust to hold licensure in healing professions do their jobs appropriately and follow the standard of care required by their professional licenses and if we’re clear that such accusations often exist in an unknowable gray area that is impacted by a system that’s inherently mistrustful of the people most often doing the accusing.

Contrary to popular belief, feminist does not mean misandrist. We simply know that men (most often those accused of sex crimes) hold disproportionate power in our culture and that women (most often accusers) are held to irrational, impossible standards when they seek redress in our legal system for acts of violence committed against them.

Second, framing the memory wars as being primarily a result of “victim culture” is not only off putting, it also lets unprofessional therapists and doctors off the hook for their incompetence. A shift away from victims and toward the accused isn’t what has helped mitigate the devastating consequences of the memory wars, to the extent they have been since the publication of this book in 1997. (After all, the grave miscarriage of justice resulting from the testimony in the Franklin case didn’t even involve a victim claiming she’d been abused.) Instead, accountability for practitioners whose approach to treatment: (1) makes their patients reliant on their therapeutic relationships; and (2) seeks to validate their patients’ thoughts instead of helping them learn tools to help themselves cope is the real shift. This kind of accountability continues to be called for as long as clinical psychotherapists are valuing their patients’ vague impressions to the exclusion of scientific possibility and failing to provide opportunities to develop tools for coping with their issues.

[Sharon · Rating 4 out of 5]

At first glance, I thought this was about ghosts. Surprise! But after reading I was fascinated by the idea of repressed memories. A family member suddenly opened up late in life about being molested, but only after intense therapy. The author was thorough in her research, and sometimes a little repetitious, but fascinating in her presentation. She presents both sides fairly and ends with the impact the trial had on the country and the therapy profession.

[Amanda Montoya · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sad - for every person involved. Interesting legal, medical & ethical quandary.