READERS BITE BACK

Letters

Ted Bundy

As an attorney who has defended deathrow inmates at the appellate level, I have long been an opponent of the death penalty, not only for the obvious moral and economic reasons but also for the reasons that Myra MacPherson so eloquently enumerates in "The Roots of Evil," her article on Ted Bundy [May]. Since 1978, when Bundy's first murders were publicized, his specter, in MacPherson's apt phrase, "continues to fascinate and repel." Yet throughout the eleven years of trials and appellate review there seems to have been a glaring absence of concern for the possible origin of Bundy's obviously pathological personality, on the part of both law-enforcement officials and prosecution, whose sole aim (however righteous) was to ensure that Bundy did not slip through the loopholes of the legal system, as he had through the ventilation ducts of the Garfield County Jail. MacPherson is on target when she says that with the execution of Ted Bundy "went the opportunity to study America's top serial killer." Psychiatrists and criminologists might have benefited from a chance to observe a living, breathing "embodiment of our worst nightmare."

STACY L. ALLEN

Baltimore, Maryland

In the end, after all the hype, the murderer's rhetoric, and the ghoulish vigil at Florida State Prison, justice was done. I, along with thousands of others, wept with relief at the news of Bundy's execution. It may have cost $5 million, but Ted Bundy will never hurt, mutilate, or kill another young woman.

REBECCA REW HORNBUCKLE

Vero Beach, Florida

I believe that many clinicians, in attempting to understand Bundy, have overemphasized the role of his childhood and misattributed the cause of his sickness. Bundy's madness seems to have been deeply rooted biologically. Dr. Dorothy Lewis is probably most accurate in her impression of Bundy as a manic-depressive. Blaming Bundy's mother or anything else in the environment only serves to distract us from the most important consideration of all. The neglected crime in the whole Bundy case was that our system did not allow us to study him. I suppose this is largely due to our societal tendency toward irrationality. I think that Bundy should have been at least "used" for study in the detection and possible prevention of future serial killers.

JEFFREY T. GUTERMAN Plantation, Florida

I recently completed the first doctoral dissertation ever done on serial killers. Ted Bundy was one of twenty-seven multiple murderers I studied in great detail. In each case, I evaluated the merit of all the so-called causes, such as child abuse, neglect, and brain injuries. I have to report that Myra MacPherson's article was way off track. The attempt to solve the enigma of Bundy by looking for secrets in his childhood and his mother has already been made, many times over. If tests, transcripts, seven books, and all other material consistently showed that Bundy's murders could not be linked to his childhood or his mother, then it's time to look elsewhere for answers.

Most of the serial murderers I studied had relatively uneventful childhoods, and there were few instances of abuse or neglect. As for Bundy, the psychological tests done on him at the Utah State Prison in 1976 found "no severely traumatizing experiences in childhood or adolescence" and "few distortions in relationship with mother and stepfather." MacPherson writes that "something seemed amiss in early tests" of brain function and damage. That's because nothing wrong was found. After three months of tests, the Utah prison found Bundy to be even more intelligent than his I.Q. of 124 indicated. No abnormalities were found from the skull X-rays, the EEG, or the thermographic brain scans, or from clinical interviews.

The article tears at Mrs. Bundy, shedding no significant light, using no caution or care. Her most innocent traits are made to seem sinister, e.g., that she was "a model child." One result of blaming the mother is that it places the killer in the role of a victim. In a society where many children are regularly beaten, verbally assaulted, molested, and even tortured, the term "child abuse" should not be casually tossed around to bolster an ill-conceived theory proclaimed by would-be Sherlock Holmeses.

BARRIE RITTER Sunnyvale, California

MYRA MACPHERSON REPLIES:

I can't imagine which serial murderers Barrie Ritter studied, hut her findings of "uneventful childhoods" and "few instances of abuse or neglect" do not square with the extensive evidence in several serious hooks on serial killers, F.B.I. studies of thirty-six such killers, or Dr. Lewis's respected examinations of Bundy and his family. Furthermore, as Lewis pointed out, many families collude in concealing such experiences. Ritter must have relied on very early psychiatric studies to support her inaccurate thesis that no abnomuilities were found in Ted Bundy's tests. My article included a great deal of new information, and none of the authorities with whom I spoke felt that the early studies were sufficiently in-depth—particularly those based on interviews in which Bundy and his mother refused to discuss the nutterial Dr. Lewis obtained.

Thomas Hoving

After reading Lynn Hirschberg's piece about Thomas Hoving ("Who's Faking Who?"] in the May issue, I am compelled to set the record straight on one long-standing and widespread misconception. As Andrew Wyeth's photographer and friend, I was involved with the "infamous" Helga series well before the existence of that work was made public. Immediately after Leonard E. B. Andrews purchased the collection, he contacted me regarding photography of the series for a book. During our discussion, I agreed with him that the collection and the story behind it would also make a great magazine piece, and I suggested that Connoisseur or Art & Antiques would treat this story well. I mentioned that an editorial team from the latter was scheduled to arrive in Chadds Ford the following day (for an entirely unrelated project with which I was already involved), and that coincidence tipped Mr. Andrews's decision in their favor. Mr. Wyeth played no part in this "launch"; indeed, he deeply regrets that Connoisseur, under the direction of his valued and respected friend Thomas Hoving, did not get the "scoop."

PETER RALSTON Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania

jameswolcott

Wow! James Wolcott—what a writer. Mixed messages mastered in a sophisticated style, almost comprehendible. I think he said everything about thirtysomething (May] except whether he really likes the show or it's O.K. for anyone else to like it. "Our dust"—or, rather, someone's dust—"is on their furniture," and personally I hope it keeps collecting. The witty, wordy Wolcott seems worried, but why? After all, it's only a TV show. Great writing, but what was his point?

KIM HAYES Fort Lee, New Jersey

I work in an advertising agency. 1 own a house and two cars. My kids go to private school. We eat Lu cookies. A cleaning lady comes once a week. I've seen thirtysomething. It's supposed to be a reflection of my life, and in some ways it is, except for the fact that I'm buttugly and short. The popularity of this show mystifies me. My life is not particularly dramatic. We have food, clothing, and shelter, so we really don't have any problems, just inconveniences. 1 suspect people of my generation watch this show for the same reason they videotape the first half of their parties and replay it during the second half. The same reason the guy in the Calvin Klein ad is frozen for eternity staring at himself in a mirror. Through casting, lighting, music, and camera work, an essentially self-absorbed life-style seems to acquire depth and importance where none actually exist, thirtysomething is nothing more than nouvelle vomitus. Those who watch it are sitting in it. Those who critically acclaim it are dining on it.

PAUL MIMIAGA Mill Valley, California

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