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A Faca Entrou: Assassinos reais e a nossa cultura
Quando um escritor que está entre os mais ácidos críticos culturais e os mais elegantes ensaístas de nosso tempo resolve fazer um balanço da experiência profissional a que dedicou a maior parte de sua vida, o resultado só pode ser grandioso. É o caso deste livro, o mais recente de Theodore Dalrymple na Inglaterra, e obra ideal para quem quer ser introduzido ao seu pensamento além de imperdível para quem já acompanha os seus escritos. Agora em plena maturidade, o psiquiatra de prisões aposentado revisita, com humor mas também contundência, os temas que o ocuparam em sua carreira: o valor da responsabilidade individual, sua destruição pelo assistencialismo de Estado e o caráter desumano da burocracia.
272 pages, Paperback
First published August 23, 2017
49 people are currently reading
312 people want to read
About the author
Theodore Dalrymple
99 books624 followersAnthony Malcolm Daniels, who generally uses the pen name Theodore Dalrymple, is an English writer and retired prison doctor and psychiatrist. He worked in a number of Sub-Saharan African countries as well as in the east end of London. Before his retirement in 2005, he worked in City Hospital, Birmingham and Winson Green Prison in inner-city Birmingham, England.
Daniels is a contributing editor to City Journal, published by the Manhattan Institute, where he is the Dietrich Weismann Fellow. In addition to City Journal, his work has appeared in The British Medical Journal, The Times, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Spectator, The Salisbury Review, National Review, and Axess magasin.
In 2011, Dalrymple received the 2011 Freedom Prize from the Flemish think tank Libera!.
Daniels is a contributing editor to City Journal, published by the Manhattan Institute, where he is the Dietrich Weismann Fellow. In addition to City Journal, his work has appeared in The British Medical Journal, The Times, The Observer, The Daily Telegraph, The Spectator, The Salisbury Review, National Review, and Axess magasin.
In 2011, Dalrymple received the 2011 Freedom Prize from the Flemish think tank Libera!.
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January 31, 2022It is never, "I stabbed him," but "the knife went in." Knives do that, right? "The gun went off," not "I shot him". Someone should tell the NRA that murderers do think it is guns that kill people.
January 31, 2021
The book is interesting enough, but the reviews are fascinating. Dalrymple's erudite, elegant, sesquipedalian prose really gets on some people's nerves. If he sounds posh then he must think he's superior, right? For those who have pre-decided that the most violent criminals are actually just helpless victims of the system, Dalrymple seems hard; his detached observations and impartial standards of care appear cold-hearted to those who judge you by how much you emote. He credits his patients with intelligence and reason, and holds them responsible for their actions. With that in mind, he seems very compassionate to me. I don't think I'd be able to be so considerate of the needs of unrepentant murderers.
Responsibility is the key theme in this book. Dalrymple's patients do not hold themselves responsible. It's never, 'I stabbed my wife because I was angry'; it's always, 'She was winding me up, and the knife went in'. The criminals avoid any feeling of guilt or shame by avoiding personal responsibility - but they are encouraged in this by all the professionals who are paid to support them, and the culture around them. Anyone who has read any of Dalrymple's other essays on British culture (or the lack thereof) will have a good idea of where this is going.
Drugs play a large part in the worst crimes. Murders are committed in the pursuit of drugs or under the influence of drugs; and drug culture is a playground for learning to avoid responsibility. Many will blame peer pressure for their first use; Dalrymple wryly observes that many admit to 'falling in with a bad crowd' but no-one ever admits to being the bad crowd. The choice to use drugs, especially hard drugs like heroin, is an active choice. No-one shoots up accidentally. Many of these addicts use drugs on and off for months before becoming regular users. From the Dalrymplian perspective, it's ridiculous to view criminals as the victims of addiction when they've actively and repeatedly chosen to addict themselves.
Likewise, kicking drugs isn't so hard as it's made out to be. Funnily enough, he says the one drug where this isn't true is alcohol. Delirium tremens can do serious harm to a person, but we don't, as a society, have many stories based around the terrible hardship and danger of quitting booze. But something like heroin, which has a huge mythology built up around it's terrible addictiveness (think of the iconic scene in Trainspotting with the ghastly baby), is comparatively easy to quit. Dalrymple sees a vicious circle of enabling here. The alleged difficulty of quitting give the addict an excuse not to try and the therapist and social worker an endless supply of permanent patients. Everyone is well positioned to play a good game of 'I'm Only Trying to Help You'.
When Dalrymple's patients come in complaining of terrible withdrawal cramps and that they need 'Just a little something, Doc' to help with the suffering, he calmly tells them that he does not believe them and will not proscribe anything, at which point they straighten up and laugh, like people do when they're called out in a ruse. Does the myth of implacable addiction come from nothing more than health care professionals who are too gullible to realise that their patients don't want to quit?
I don't know. Speaking as someone who has a hard enough time kicking sugar, I find it hard to believe that hard drugs aren't very addictive. But still, I can see his point. I'm a fat fuck because I eat too many cookies, and that is my choice, as hard as it sometimes seems to me.
The other thing that really struck me was Dalrymple's complaint about pointless procedures and paperwork. This is a complaint I hear from absolutely everyone in public service. The entire job is taken up with box-ticking exercises. Police, NHS, prison workers, social workers: everyone agrees that they spend more time documenting what they've done than doing anything. It's miserable thinking about how much public money is wasted in this way.
But Dalrymple, in keeping with the theme, also points out how it diminishes personal responsibility. Prison wardens are only incentivised to fill in forms - not to do what's best for their prisoners. Indeed, if what's best for the prisoner diverges from the procedure detailed on the form, then they may well be punished for it. When it all goes tits up, nobody is at fault because everybody followed procedure (even though the procedure is nonsense and everybody knows it).
This is the sort of book that will come to mind when dwelling morosely on the impending collapse of civilisation. Not just because of all the excellent content about public services and personal ethics - also because it's a good example of the decline of publishing. I expect self-published authors to have this level of poor editing, but it's depressing to see real publishers going the same way.
Responsibility is the key theme in this book. Dalrymple's patients do not hold themselves responsible. It's never, 'I stabbed my wife because I was angry'; it's always, 'She was winding me up, and the knife went in'. The criminals avoid any feeling of guilt or shame by avoiding personal responsibility - but they are encouraged in this by all the professionals who are paid to support them, and the culture around them. Anyone who has read any of Dalrymple's other essays on British culture (or the lack thereof) will have a good idea of where this is going.
Drugs play a large part in the worst crimes. Murders are committed in the pursuit of drugs or under the influence of drugs; and drug culture is a playground for learning to avoid responsibility. Many will blame peer pressure for their first use; Dalrymple wryly observes that many admit to 'falling in with a bad crowd' but no-one ever admits to being the bad crowd. The choice to use drugs, especially hard drugs like heroin, is an active choice. No-one shoots up accidentally. Many of these addicts use drugs on and off for months before becoming regular users. From the Dalrymplian perspective, it's ridiculous to view criminals as the victims of addiction when they've actively and repeatedly chosen to addict themselves.
Likewise, kicking drugs isn't so hard as it's made out to be. Funnily enough, he says the one drug where this isn't true is alcohol. Delirium tremens can do serious harm to a person, but we don't, as a society, have many stories based around the terrible hardship and danger of quitting booze. But something like heroin, which has a huge mythology built up around it's terrible addictiveness (think of the iconic scene in Trainspotting with the ghastly baby), is comparatively easy to quit. Dalrymple sees a vicious circle of enabling here. The alleged difficulty of quitting give the addict an excuse not to try and the therapist and social worker an endless supply of permanent patients. Everyone is well positioned to play a good game of 'I'm Only Trying to Help You'.
When Dalrymple's patients come in complaining of terrible withdrawal cramps and that they need 'Just a little something, Doc' to help with the suffering, he calmly tells them that he does not believe them and will not proscribe anything, at which point they straighten up and laugh, like people do when they're called out in a ruse. Does the myth of implacable addiction come from nothing more than health care professionals who are too gullible to realise that their patients don't want to quit?
I don't know. Speaking as someone who has a hard enough time kicking sugar, I find it hard to believe that hard drugs aren't very addictive. But still, I can see his point. I'm a fat fuck because I eat too many cookies, and that is my choice, as hard as it sometimes seems to me.
The other thing that really struck me was Dalrymple's complaint about pointless procedures and paperwork. This is a complaint I hear from absolutely everyone in public service. The entire job is taken up with box-ticking exercises. Police, NHS, prison workers, social workers: everyone agrees that they spend more time documenting what they've done than doing anything. It's miserable thinking about how much public money is wasted in this way.
But Dalrymple, in keeping with the theme, also points out how it diminishes personal responsibility. Prison wardens are only incentivised to fill in forms - not to do what's best for their prisoners. Indeed, if what's best for the prisoner diverges from the procedure detailed on the form, then they may well be punished for it. When it all goes tits up, nobody is at fault because everybody followed procedure (even though the procedure is nonsense and everybody knows it).
This is the sort of book that will come to mind when dwelling morosely on the impending collapse of civilisation. Not just because of all the excellent content about public services and personal ethics - also because it's a good example of the decline of publishing. I expect self-published authors to have this level of poor editing, but it's depressing to see real publishers going the same way.
October 2, 2025
This is the fourth book by Dalrymple that I have read. The author is a social conservative, UK based commentator psychiatrist who had served in hospitals and prisons in industrial UK. This book is a collection of anecdotes of experiences in both and what he learned about murderers/murders over the years of his work. I almost took a star off because there are a few errors in the ebook. Most of the type where two words are run together without a space. On my to read list is his If Symptoms Persist, a collection of essays published in The Spectator. I recommend his work.
From the book: He was almost certainly what would once have been designated ‘morally insane’; a century later he would have been called a ‘psychopath’ …, then a ‘sociopath’; nowadays he would e called a sufferer from ‘antisocial personality disorder’ – psychiatrists think they are advancing knowledge and understanding when they change terminology. [page 10]
Also: The assumption of modern bureaucracy is that new and expanded procedures are always better than the old; and even if this turns out to be indisputably false at some later stage, well – it is bureaucracy, not love, that means never having to say sorry. [page 23]
From the book: He was almost certainly what would once have been designated ‘morally insane’; a century later he would have been called a ‘psychopath’ …, then a ‘sociopath’; nowadays he would e called a sufferer from ‘antisocial personality disorder’ – psychiatrists think they are advancing knowledge and understanding when they change terminology. [page 10]
Also: The assumption of modern bureaucracy is that new and expanded procedures are always better than the old; and even if this turns out to be indisputably false at some later stage, well – it is bureaucracy, not love, that means never having to say sorry. [page 23]
March 30, 2018
An oddly structured book, this is a compendium of war stories from a prison GP that periodically departs on speculation about the cultural health of current-day Britain, how it has changed since the author's career began in ~1975, and which of that was progress and which merely change.
The book is gleefully described by the Telegraph as terribly challenging for young liberals (not PC, apparently, in an "oh no he didn't!" kind of way), but I didn't find he was saying anything particular controversial. In brief, he's complaining about:
* Over-medicalising personality disorders that are more descriptive categories than diseases, and which are indistinguishable from character flaws when it comes to treatment (i.e. they are predilections, but under voluntary control). A fair enough complaint -- categorisation is useful for population studies, but being of a particular category doesn't forgive all sins.
* Class condescension -- that middle-class people often feel it isn't their place to require particular standards of working-class people (a reaction to a past of absolute class hierarchy), and so in systems where middle-class people almost exclusively preside (judiciary, politics, etc), out of anxiety not to impose one's own standards on people with quite different experiences from oneself, we can end up imposing no standard at all. Appropriately enough, almost everybody I know is themselves middle-class, and so I don't have enough experience to judge this one either way, but I would certainly feel apprehensive that I was unknowingly perpetuating some terrible injustice if I was in a position of power of people I frankly know little about, so the abstract concept is at least plausible. A thorny problem I don't have a good answer to.
* Standardisation and overbearing management diminishing trust in individuals, and their capacity to take constructive initiative. For example, he describes how suicidal prisoners used to be managed by initiative (as he would put it, the doctor was trusted to do the right thing, with presumably mixed results), but now a complex and time-consuming algorithm is prescribed from above, but it isn't clear the new way is actually improving outcomes, cf. merely providing ministers with a get-out -- a procedure was devised, that procedure was applied, the ministry was seen to do something, so nobody is individually to blame when somebody tops themselves regardless. This matches the standard complaint of bureaucratic procedure coming out of the NHS, and the appropriate response is surely the same -- (a) even when a particular procedure has been prescribed, the ability to take initiative and deviate without undue risk of prosecution needs to be available, and (b) there absolutely must be evidence to show the procedure is providing something of value, and so is worth the time and effort. In the medical community I expect that evidence would be demanded and provided -- in the prison service, less so, to the point that officers openly described the procedure as foolish and pointless, but executed it regardless, with obviously demotivating results.
TLDR: there are important questions about whether we're doing things the right way; even if his personal anecdotes don't really prop up the case, they're well worth thinking about. So long as you don't mind occasional archaic terminology (people with psychotic delusions are simply 'mad', not an unreasonable shorthand) I think you'll be provoked to think more often than to outrage.
The book is gleefully described by the Telegraph as terribly challenging for young liberals (not PC, apparently, in an "oh no he didn't!" kind of way), but I didn't find he was saying anything particular controversial. In brief, he's complaining about:
* Over-medicalising personality disorders that are more descriptive categories than diseases, and which are indistinguishable from character flaws when it comes to treatment (i.e. they are predilections, but under voluntary control). A fair enough complaint -- categorisation is useful for population studies, but being of a particular category doesn't forgive all sins.
* Class condescension -- that middle-class people often feel it isn't their place to require particular standards of working-class people (a reaction to a past of absolute class hierarchy), and so in systems where middle-class people almost exclusively preside (judiciary, politics, etc), out of anxiety not to impose one's own standards on people with quite different experiences from oneself, we can end up imposing no standard at all. Appropriately enough, almost everybody I know is themselves middle-class, and so I don't have enough experience to judge this one either way, but I would certainly feel apprehensive that I was unknowingly perpetuating some terrible injustice if I was in a position of power of people I frankly know little about, so the abstract concept is at least plausible. A thorny problem I don't have a good answer to.
* Standardisation and overbearing management diminishing trust in individuals, and their capacity to take constructive initiative. For example, he describes how suicidal prisoners used to be managed by initiative (as he would put it, the doctor was trusted to do the right thing, with presumably mixed results), but now a complex and time-consuming algorithm is prescribed from above, but it isn't clear the new way is actually improving outcomes, cf. merely providing ministers with a get-out -- a procedure was devised, that procedure was applied, the ministry was seen to do something, so nobody is individually to blame when somebody tops themselves regardless. This matches the standard complaint of bureaucratic procedure coming out of the NHS, and the appropriate response is surely the same -- (a) even when a particular procedure has been prescribed, the ability to take initiative and deviate without undue risk of prosecution needs to be available, and (b) there absolutely must be evidence to show the procedure is providing something of value, and so is worth the time and effort. In the medical community I expect that evidence would be demanded and provided -- in the prison service, less so, to the point that officers openly described the procedure as foolish and pointless, but executed it regardless, with obviously demotivating results.
TLDR: there are important questions about whether we're doing things the right way; even if his personal anecdotes don't really prop up the case, they're well worth thinking about. So long as you don't mind occasional archaic terminology (people with psychotic delusions are simply 'mad', not an unreasonable shorthand) I think you'll be provoked to think more often than to outrage.
December 27, 2024
Interessant boek over medische verhalen van een gevangenisarts. Vooral zijn getuigenissen in de rechtbank vond ik leuk
April 19, 2018
Para quem já conhece o escritor, o que chama mais a atenção é o quão maturo ele parece neste livro – embora, isto não sugira imprudência nos anteriores -, ele permite que conheçamos mais sua biografia em vez de apenas relatar casos de criminosos.
Para a “direita” que encontrava nele uma desculpa para defender “oito ou oitenta”, ele se apresenta como alguém que ainda é capaz de sentir misericórdia. Sendo seus testemunho médico-psiquiátrico, em alguns casos, fator primordial para reduzir penas.
A informação que mais me chamou a atenção foi a de que uma pessoa demora muito mais tempo para tornar-se dependente químico do que os progressistas gostam de sustentar e que os efeitos colaterais de uma abstinência destes são ínfimos comparados com a pausa de um alcoólatra.
Como o título do livro sugere, Dalrymple aponta diversas desculpas esfarrapadas dadas por seus pacientes para justificar seus crimes cada vez mais banais. Eles usam a técnica da voz passiva, assim como nossos jornais o fazem, como se uma linguagem manipulada pudesse transformar o significado prático do fato.
Exemplificando, Dalrymple diz que muitos presos afirmam ter “caído na galera errada”, mas nenhum assume que eles são a própria “galera errada”, ou que se aproximaram dela porque guardam afinidades.
Como já fora apresentado como muita clareza em “A Vida na Sarjeta”, os homens se julgam anjos imaculados cujos crimes cometidos foram motivados por um “desarranjo” ou doença mental, embora possuíssem grande habilidade lógica no momento de suas defesas. E cita, inclusive, um outro psiquiatra que derrubaria várias dessas defesas com o argumento de que as premissas para concluir que alguém tem uma desordem mental pode ser, perfeitamente, aplicado para defender a felicidade como uma patologia.
Por fim, a lição que tiramos é de que mesmo uma infância difícil de abusos e privações não são fatores imprescindíveis para fazer alguém tornar-se um criminoso; eles o fazem porque desejam coisas que não estão dispostos a trabalhar para possuir, ou no caso dos homicídios, porque possuem o direito de cometê-lo. Nas palavras do próprio Dalrymple: “Pobreza não é o mesmo que degradação”. Portanto, mesmo que os esquerdopatas defendam que o “coitadinho” mudou e não vai mais cometer certo crime, eventualmente porque não pode reincidir no crime por algum fator que o impossibilita, ele deve ser punido, visto que ninguém pode acreditar que cada cidadão possue um vale-crime, simplesmente porque ainda não viu “o sol nascer quadrado”. Como Jesus fez diversas vezes, em casos de genuíno arrependimento, o perdão deve ser concedido, mas a pena não pode deixar de ser aplicada.
Para a “direita” que encontrava nele uma desculpa para defender “oito ou oitenta”, ele se apresenta como alguém que ainda é capaz de sentir misericórdia. Sendo seus testemunho médico-psiquiátrico, em alguns casos, fator primordial para reduzir penas.
A informação que mais me chamou a atenção foi a de que uma pessoa demora muito mais tempo para tornar-se dependente químico do que os progressistas gostam de sustentar e que os efeitos colaterais de uma abstinência destes são ínfimos comparados com a pausa de um alcoólatra.
Como o título do livro sugere, Dalrymple aponta diversas desculpas esfarrapadas dadas por seus pacientes para justificar seus crimes cada vez mais banais. Eles usam a técnica da voz passiva, assim como nossos jornais o fazem, como se uma linguagem manipulada pudesse transformar o significado prático do fato.
Exemplificando, Dalrymple diz que muitos presos afirmam ter “caído na galera errada”, mas nenhum assume que eles são a própria “galera errada”, ou que se aproximaram dela porque guardam afinidades.
Como já fora apresentado como muita clareza em “A Vida na Sarjeta”, os homens se julgam anjos imaculados cujos crimes cometidos foram motivados por um “desarranjo” ou doença mental, embora possuíssem grande habilidade lógica no momento de suas defesas. E cita, inclusive, um outro psiquiatra que derrubaria várias dessas defesas com o argumento de que as premissas para concluir que alguém tem uma desordem mental pode ser, perfeitamente, aplicado para defender a felicidade como uma patologia.
Por fim, a lição que tiramos é de que mesmo uma infância difícil de abusos e privações não são fatores imprescindíveis para fazer alguém tornar-se um criminoso; eles o fazem porque desejam coisas que não estão dispostos a trabalhar para possuir, ou no caso dos homicídios, porque possuem o direito de cometê-lo. Nas palavras do próprio Dalrymple: “Pobreza não é o mesmo que degradação”. Portanto, mesmo que os esquerdopatas defendam que o “coitadinho” mudou e não vai mais cometer certo crime, eventualmente porque não pode reincidir no crime por algum fator que o impossibilita, ele deve ser punido, visto que ninguém pode acreditar que cada cidadão possue um vale-crime, simplesmente porque ainda não viu “o sol nascer quadrado”. Como Jesus fez diversas vezes, em casos de genuíno arrependimento, o perdão deve ser concedido, mas a pena não pode deixar de ser aplicada.
March 24, 2018
I would endorse many of the reviews above relating to a less than enticing read, an analysis of the type of character who might be described by the book title as someone who said " the knife just went in!I must admit I was expecting more from the authors apparent long history of being a prison psychiatrist/doctor. His clear intellectual intelligence was somewhat muted by his lack of emotional intelligence, his extensive use of many standard defence mechanisms of someone who works long term with virtually a huge mentally ill population (as many who commit crimes like the ones he described) to offset the stress. Better to stay remote, inaccessible, refuse requests to be seen, make fun of etc.. These are all normal defences, understandable in the authors's case as he appears to have worked alone; there was no "team" that I could detect who would be able to discuss cases eg those prisoners who were at risk of self harm etc. It was a case of "get on with it and dont waste our time". I also felt the vignettes were too short, lacked sufficient detail to be a=in any way interesting, it was like he skimmed over large populations of men who got lumped into categories rather randomly and then some sweeping generalisations were made about them. Such a pity as this could have been a far more worthwhile read. Disappointing.
September 6, 2017
An excellent read! I decided to read this after finding a review in the Daily Mail newspaper.
Theodore Dalrymple informs the reader of his experience as a prison GP, psychiatrist and expert witness using numerous short "essays" on criminals and the criminal justice system. Not "politically correct" in parts and somewhat controversial, this will make uncomfortable reading for the current establishment.
Dalrymple also explores the "magic thinking" behind some of his criminal "clients" actions and gives some very interesting conclusions.
The style of writing is addictive and the essay format means if you do put it down, you can quickly pick it up again.
The e-book is somewhat scarred by the numerous spelling mistakes that appear to be a formatting issue resulting in letters being missed on almost every other page.
Theodore Dalrymple informs the reader of his experience as a prison GP, psychiatrist and expert witness using numerous short "essays" on criminals and the criminal justice system. Not "politically correct" in parts and somewhat controversial, this will make uncomfortable reading for the current establishment.
Dalrymple also explores the "magic thinking" behind some of his criminal "clients" actions and gives some very interesting conclusions.
The style of writing is addictive and the essay format means if you do put it down, you can quickly pick it up again.
The e-book is somewhat scarred by the numerous spelling mistakes that appear to be a formatting issue resulting in letters being missed on almost every other page.
June 12, 2018
Like most of Theodore Dalrymple’s books, entertaining and depressing. Like Christopher Hitchens, he’s an excellent essayist, and his books need to be seen as a series of related papers rather than an integrated volume.
I must say, it’s the worst copy edited book I’ve read in a long time. I felt like asking for a refund, until I saw the phrase “anther burglar”. I love the idea of someone breaking into a house and not stealing the flowers, nor even the stamens, but picking off the anthers and leaving again.
I must say, it’s the worst copy edited book I’ve read in a long time. I felt like asking for a refund, until I saw the phrase “anther burglar”. I love the idea of someone breaking into a house and not stealing the flowers, nor even the stamens, but picking off the anthers and leaving again.
June 11, 2020
I am a big fan of Theodore Dalrymple, but this book only ranks in the middle of the pack of his writings. Unfortunately, the 2020 kindle edition I read is marred by proofreading mistakes on nearly every page. Since Dalrymple’s command of English is outstanding and all the other books by him I have read were nearly flawless, I think publisher Gibson Square and/or ebook producer Booqla must bear the blame. 3.5 stars, rounded down due to the atrocious proofreading.
February 6, 2018
An interesting book delving into the case histories from a prison doctor. The author is extremely articulate and presents many in depth stories. This book would be of interest to anyone who has a criminology background. However, while interesting to read the stories of murderers and rapists, the author presents said stories in a very nonlinear format. In addition it appears as though the author has some very conservative views as it applies to the criminal justice system - i.e. the individuals are criminals first and patients second. While I would recommend this to anyone interested in corrections and/or psychology, it is not a book which is hard to put down and I would not recommend it to everyone.
October 13, 2017
Fascinating read and found it really interesting - probably because it confirmed most of my prejudices and thoughts on the matters😁. Hard to put down once into it. Obviously a man of great common sense. What was disappointing was the shocking editing. Several stories were repeated but worse was the grammar and spelling. Didn't look like hardly been proof - read at all! Words ran together, some letters missed out, etc etc. An insult to the author. Have bought another of this author's to read 😊
October 13, 2017
I found this book to be interesting, but it was more of a memoir than I expected. I gave it 3 stars because it was appallingly written, full of typos and words left in or out that should not have been. It was so bad it made reading it quite difficult at times.
April 2, 2018
Classic Dalrymple.
Read
May 6, 2025O autor se trata de um médico e escritor britânico que trabalhou em uma prisão francesa durante a década de 1980. O livro é uma coletânea de ensaios que abordam questões sociais, políticas e culturais relacionadas à violência e crime. Ao selecionar os melhores trechos, fiquei particularmente interessada em passagens que oferecem insights sobre a natureza do crime, a violência e a sociedade moderna. Aqui estão três trechos destacados:
1. No trecho inicial do capítulo intitulado "O Enigma do Crime", Dalrymple escreve: "O crime é o único assunto em que não há nenhuma controvérsia; todos concordam em considerá-lo mau, e todo mundo gostaria de ver menos dele. Mas, por que ocorre? Por que as pessoas se tornam criminosas? E por que a sociedade permite que isso aconteça?" - Este trecho ilustra como o autor aborda o assunto do crime de forma direta e desafiadora, buscando compreensão e explicações para um fenômeno complexo.
2. Em "A Filosofia do Crime", Dalrymple escreve sobre a relação entre o criminoso e a sociedade: "O criminoso, ao cometer um ato antissocial, não é só um indivíduo isolado, mas sim uma resposta às estruturas sociais e culturais em que vive. A sociedade é parte da causa do crime, não apenas sua vitima." - Aqui, o autor destaca a importância de analisar a relação entre a sociedade e o criminoso, enfatizando que o crime não é apenas uma questão individual, mas também uma questão de contexto social.
3. No capítulo "O Consolo do Crime", Dalrymple escreve sobre a atribuição de motivações complexas para o crime: "O crime é frequentemente visto como um ato de falta de educação, de moral ou de inteligência. Mas, é possível que o criminoso seja uma pessoa comum, com habilidades e talentos, que acabou se envolvendo em uma vida criminosa por falta de alternativas e oportunidades." - Neste trecho, o autor desafia a ideia de que os criminosos são simplesmente indivíduos sem educação, moral ou inteligência. Ele sugere que as pessoas podem ser empurradas para a vida criminosa por circunstâncias além de suas habilidades pessoais.
Estes trechos destacados de A Faca Entrou oferecem uma visão profunda e única do crime e da sociedade, proporcionando insights valiosos para quem busca compreender esses temas complexos. Ao contrário do que alguns possam pensar, Dalrymple mostra ser capaz de sentir misericórdia, o que é evidenciado em seus testemunhos médico-psiquiátricos que, em certos casos, contribuem para a redução de penas. Uma informação interessante destacada no livro é que uma pessoa leva muito mais tempo para se tornar dependente químico do que alguns progressistas afirmam, e que os efeitos colaterais da abstinência dessas substâncias são mínimos em comparação com os de um alcoólatra. Como sugere o título do livro, Dalrymple expõe diversas desculpas esfarrapadas usadas por seus pacientes para justificar seus crimes cada vez mais banais. Eles utilizam a voz passiva para tentar manipular a linguagem e mudar o significado prático dos fatos. Por exemplo, muitos presos afirmam ter "caído na galera errada", mas nenhum assume que eles próprios são a "galera errada", ou que se aproximaram dela por afinidades. Assim como o autor apresentou com clareza em seu livro anterior, "A Vida na Sarjeta", os criminosos se veem como anjos imaculados, cujos crimes foram motivados por um "desarranjo" ou doença mental, mesmo que sejam habilidosos em suas defesas. Dalrymple cita outro psiquiatra que refuta várias dessas alegações, argumentando que os critérios para se concluir que alguém tem uma desordem mental poderiam ser igualmente aplicados para considerar a felicidade como uma patologia. Em suma, o livro nos ensina que até mesmo uma infância difícil, com abusos e privações, não são fatores determinantes para que alguém se torne um criminoso. Eles cometem crimes porque desejam coisas que não estão dispostos a conquistar por meio do trabalho, ou, no caso de homicídios, porque acreditam ter o direito de cometê-los. Como Dalrymple ressalta: "Pobreza não é o mesmo que degradação". Portanto, mesmo que algumas pessoas argumentem que um criminoso mudou e não cometerá mais um determinado crime, na visão de Dalrymple, criminosos devem ser punidos, pois não se pode acreditar que cada cidadão tenha um "vale-crime" e, como Jesus fez várias vezes, em casos de verdadeiro arrependimento, o perdão pode ser concedido, mas a pena não deve deixar de ser aplicada.
1. No trecho inicial do capítulo intitulado "O Enigma do Crime", Dalrymple escreve: "O crime é o único assunto em que não há nenhuma controvérsia; todos concordam em considerá-lo mau, e todo mundo gostaria de ver menos dele. Mas, por que ocorre? Por que as pessoas se tornam criminosas? E por que a sociedade permite que isso aconteça?" - Este trecho ilustra como o autor aborda o assunto do crime de forma direta e desafiadora, buscando compreensão e explicações para um fenômeno complexo.
2. Em "A Filosofia do Crime", Dalrymple escreve sobre a relação entre o criminoso e a sociedade: "O criminoso, ao cometer um ato antissocial, não é só um indivíduo isolado, mas sim uma resposta às estruturas sociais e culturais em que vive. A sociedade é parte da causa do crime, não apenas sua vitima." - Aqui, o autor destaca a importância de analisar a relação entre a sociedade e o criminoso, enfatizando que o crime não é apenas uma questão individual, mas também uma questão de contexto social.
3. No capítulo "O Consolo do Crime", Dalrymple escreve sobre a atribuição de motivações complexas para o crime: "O crime é frequentemente visto como um ato de falta de educação, de moral ou de inteligência. Mas, é possível que o criminoso seja uma pessoa comum, com habilidades e talentos, que acabou se envolvendo em uma vida criminosa por falta de alternativas e oportunidades." - Neste trecho, o autor desafia a ideia de que os criminosos são simplesmente indivíduos sem educação, moral ou inteligência. Ele sugere que as pessoas podem ser empurradas para a vida criminosa por circunstâncias além de suas habilidades pessoais.
Estes trechos destacados de A Faca Entrou oferecem uma visão profunda e única do crime e da sociedade, proporcionando insights valiosos para quem busca compreender esses temas complexos. Ao contrário do que alguns possam pensar, Dalrymple mostra ser capaz de sentir misericórdia, o que é evidenciado em seus testemunhos médico-psiquiátricos que, em certos casos, contribuem para a redução de penas. Uma informação interessante destacada no livro é que uma pessoa leva muito mais tempo para se tornar dependente químico do que alguns progressistas afirmam, e que os efeitos colaterais da abstinência dessas substâncias são mínimos em comparação com os de um alcoólatra. Como sugere o título do livro, Dalrymple expõe diversas desculpas esfarrapadas usadas por seus pacientes para justificar seus crimes cada vez mais banais. Eles utilizam a voz passiva para tentar manipular a linguagem e mudar o significado prático dos fatos. Por exemplo, muitos presos afirmam ter "caído na galera errada", mas nenhum assume que eles próprios são a "galera errada", ou que se aproximaram dela por afinidades. Assim como o autor apresentou com clareza em seu livro anterior, "A Vida na Sarjeta", os criminosos se veem como anjos imaculados, cujos crimes foram motivados por um "desarranjo" ou doença mental, mesmo que sejam habilidosos em suas defesas. Dalrymple cita outro psiquiatra que refuta várias dessas alegações, argumentando que os critérios para se concluir que alguém tem uma desordem mental poderiam ser igualmente aplicados para considerar a felicidade como uma patologia. Em suma, o livro nos ensina que até mesmo uma infância difícil, com abusos e privações, não são fatores determinantes para que alguém se torne um criminoso. Eles cometem crimes porque desejam coisas que não estão dispostos a conquistar por meio do trabalho, ou, no caso de homicídios, porque acreditam ter o direito de cometê-los. Como Dalrymple ressalta: "Pobreza não é o mesmo que degradação". Portanto, mesmo que algumas pessoas argumentem que um criminoso mudou e não cometerá mais um determinado crime, na visão de Dalrymple, criminosos devem ser punidos, pois não se pode acreditar que cada cidadão tenha um "vale-crime" e, como Jesus fez várias vezes, em casos de verdadeiro arrependimento, o perdão pode ser concedido, mas a pena não deve deixar de ser aplicada.
October 17, 2025
Conservative critics are at their most interesting before they become established "culture warriors" in which a combination of audience capture and filing deadlines degenerates their thought into barely literate rants about the "woke".
Although this was published after Dalrymple was a well established writer, it reads a lot like his early essays in the 1990s, most likely because it draws on his experiences prior to retirement working as a prison physician and psychiatrist.
Thankfully, this isn't some typical right-wing call for greater 'law and order'. Dalrymple is very well acquainted with both the criminal justice systems' benefits and flaws. What's captured instead is a criminologically sound critique of how we speak of criminals and how we allow criminals to speak of themselves.
"The knife went in" captures a certain way of thinking amongst criminals, re-valuing their choices as forced outcomes, as if some evil entity was puppeting their hands. Dalrymple rightly points out the ways in which criminologists, clinicians and - in some cases - the courts play into this fantasy under the guises of "social determinants" of anti-social behaviour or the, now very trendy, appeal to "trauma".
However rarely are criminals truly incapable of controlling their actions in the way that they describe. In fact underlying this "the knife went in" mindset, is a broader pathological psychology - one that is manifested in and reinforced by certain subcultural norms amongst British underclass - allowing criminality to become entrenched.
This critique is a welcome one, but not an issue Dalrymple seems to be able to offer viable solutions for. He seems unmoved by arguments that socio-economic deprivation may play a role in cultural degeneracy, nor does he seem optimistic about tailored programs to tackle criminogenic risk factors.
As such, this book is best seen as exposing a social wound rather than proscribing a cure.
Yet I still think it is a diagnosis worth listening to.
Although this was published after Dalrymple was a well established writer, it reads a lot like his early essays in the 1990s, most likely because it draws on his experiences prior to retirement working as a prison physician and psychiatrist.
Thankfully, this isn't some typical right-wing call for greater 'law and order'. Dalrymple is very well acquainted with both the criminal justice systems' benefits and flaws. What's captured instead is a criminologically sound critique of how we speak of criminals and how we allow criminals to speak of themselves.
"The knife went in" captures a certain way of thinking amongst criminals, re-valuing their choices as forced outcomes, as if some evil entity was puppeting their hands. Dalrymple rightly points out the ways in which criminologists, clinicians and - in some cases - the courts play into this fantasy under the guises of "social determinants" of anti-social behaviour or the, now very trendy, appeal to "trauma".
However rarely are criminals truly incapable of controlling their actions in the way that they describe. In fact underlying this "the knife went in" mindset, is a broader pathological psychology - one that is manifested in and reinforced by certain subcultural norms amongst British underclass - allowing criminality to become entrenched.
This critique is a welcome one, but not an issue Dalrymple seems to be able to offer viable solutions for. He seems unmoved by arguments that socio-economic deprivation may play a role in cultural degeneracy, nor does he seem optimistic about tailored programs to tackle criminogenic risk factors.
As such, this book is best seen as exposing a social wound rather than proscribing a cure.
Yet I still think it is a diagnosis worth listening to.
December 9, 2017
Als voormalig gevangenisarts heeft Theodore Dalrymple een op zijn minst boeiend beroepsleven achter de rug. Bovendien heeft hij een duidelijke mening, die hij koppelt aan een vlotte pen en die klassiek-Britse humor en manier om losjes nagels met koppen te slaan. Zijn eerste boeken 'Leven aan de onderkant' en 'Beschaving of wat er van over is' (met die schitterende provocatieve tuinkabouter op de cover) zijn intussen gemeengoed geworden. De grote verdienste was dat de auteur daarbij de crimineel de verantwoordelijkheid van zijn daden niet liet afschuiven op de maatschappij. Meer inkeer, oproep tot boete en vooral een halt aan de politiek-correcte manier waarop pedagogen en politici zonder kennis van zaken ieder tot slachtoffer maken... tenzij het slachtoffer van het misdrijf zelf.
Dit boek brengt nieuwe anekdotes, maar ik mist vooral het heldere en gestructureerde verhaal. Het werd een aaneenrijging van verhalen, die vaak werden doorkruist door bedenkingen of uitweidingen. Ook hier en daar een spellingsfout. Het is waarschijnlijk dat Dalrymple wat nuance wilde brengen in het harde imago dat hij doorheen de jaren bestempeld kreeg. Zo spreekt hij begrip uit voor bepaalde misdaden en schaaft hier en daar wat scherpere stellingen bij. Kortom, niet het niveau van zijn eerste werken.
Dit boek brengt nieuwe anekdotes, maar ik mist vooral het heldere en gestructureerde verhaal. Het werd een aaneenrijging van verhalen, die vaak werden doorkruist door bedenkingen of uitweidingen. Ook hier en daar een spellingsfout. Het is waarschijnlijk dat Dalrymple wat nuance wilde brengen in het harde imago dat hij doorheen de jaren bestempeld kreeg. Zo spreekt hij begrip uit voor bepaalde misdaden en schaaft hier en daar wat scherpere stellingen bij. Kortom, niet het niveau van zijn eerste werken.
December 16, 2017
Dalrymple worked in the prison service helping those with mental health issues. He discusses some of the cases and gives his opinions on society, the government and the health and prison services. I thought this was going to be an interesting study of the criminal psyche but instead all I got was an author with a smug tone holding court about why he is so superior to many others. There was a lot of stuff to do with class as well. The book also needed a better editor as it had errors on practically every page.
November 2, 2017
Written by a doctor about his experiences of working in a prison and with criminals, this book reads like it was published 30 years ago instead of this year. I found the author came across as pompous and sanctimonious, his experience of working with prisoners seemed very different to mine and he seemed to use very dated terminology. People with personality disorders were declared 'of bad character', the common classes judged and I ended up feeling glad he has probably retired
October 12, 2022
Dr. Dalrymple for president! Although the U.S. Constitution makes him ineligible for the presidency, Dr. Dalrymple would make a great one. With his usual humor and erudition, Dr. Dalrymple exposes the flaws and follies of modern society and shows us what a world governed by common sense would look like. The main problem he would have would be convincing others of the right way to do things in the face of their persistence in doing them the wrong way. If anyone could do it, he surely could.
January 17, 2023
Great but sometimes repeats itself, I think that’s because it’s compiled from various essays.
The style of “Life at the bottom” where he just keeps them as shorter essays suits him a lot better. Though this was written in a more mature style, clearly a way more experienced Dalrymple at work.
Love his observations and cutting criticism. Adore the way he regards academics and criminals. He rejects conventional societal hierarchies through his own no bullshit lens.
The style of “Life at the bottom” where he just keeps them as shorter essays suits him a lot better. Though this was written in a more mature style, clearly a way more experienced Dalrymple at work.
Love his observations and cutting criticism. Adore the way he regards academics and criminals. He rejects conventional societal hierarchies through his own no bullshit lens.
November 3, 2025
I found the author to be boorish and altogether very unkind. I thought the author’s tone was that of an unfeeling observer, tutting at the state of the “specimen” in front of them. I’ve no doubt that working as a prison doctor is gruelling at the best of times, but I get the sense that the author felt the role was beneath someone of their *obvious* great wit and intelligence.
“Hm. Pity.”
Did not finish.
“Hm. Pity.”
Did not finish.
January 21, 2018
I partly liked the book because it presented a lot of interesting cases. Still, it had a lot of spelling errors and the editing was poor. The writer was really convinced of himself and tried to veil it behind poorly hidden modesty. The book also lacked a bit of structure.
March 27, 2019
Indispensável obra de Theodore Dalrymple sobre o contexto penal e o aspecto psicológico de presidiários que o autor teve contato. Essa obra tem muito a ensinar, com as devidas considerações contextuais, para os que se interessam sobre o debate punitivo da esfera penal.
October 24, 2021
Pithy, as alwsys
Dr. Daniels is always a pleasure to read, whether in a column in the weekly or fortnightly press or in his books. He is a man who clearly found satisfaction in his work however fleeting it could sometimes be.
Dr. Daniels is always a pleasure to read, whether in a column in the weekly or fortnightly press or in his books. He is a man who clearly found satisfaction in his work however fleeting it could sometimes be.
March 25, 2022
The relatives of the victim were on the outside steps of the courts as I left. One of them murmured ‘Brilliant!’ as I went by, and I confess I hugged myself in triumph.
And then the whole class stood up and started to cheer. My name? Albert Einstein.
October 11, 2019
Tom Wolf and Florence King have both passed on, but don't despair, we have Theodore Dalrymple to make sense of all this craziness.
January 31, 2021
So boring!
September 30, 2021
Great book by a prison doctor about his work and what he noticed while he was there - namely a drop in responsibility taking (hence the title).
February 10, 2025
Not the most interesting reading if you you are not obsessed by all prison cases, explains some behaviours of prisoners and is interesting to follow but I expected something different from the ads.
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