We try to keep it light here at the Deconstruction. Matters of child murder, and capital trials, are generally beyond our purview.
But we were born unto a society that delves into such things, that anachronistically holds one or two “trials of the century” every decade. Such trials, like or not, become integral to American culture. Thus, like it or not, they become fodder for our deconstruction.
I’ll start by admitting that I’m utterly unqualified to comment on any aspect of the case or trial. Cases like this make me queasy; I don’t follow them and don’t (usually) write about them. I didn’t intend to write about this one until shortly after 2:15 pm EST on Tuesday, July 5.
Those among us who did follow the trial will recognize the significance of that date and time. That was the verdict announcement, which was conveniently scheduled and publicized some hours beforehand – in a thoroughly undignified, unseemly way. At least that’s how it seemed to me.
I’d heard that announcement was coming. I went out of my way to avoid hearing it, viewing it or reading about it…knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to hide from it for long.
Sure enough, within minutes of Casey Anthony being found Not Guilty of murder, I was informed of such by a friend.
The informant was, again, a friend, so I’ll try to be gentle here. But those fascinating few moments of our conversation was when I recognized this for the cultural phenomenon that it is, and when I knew I’d be writing about it – so I feel compelled to describe the scene in detail.
She was grinning. I’m certain she was completely unaware of it, but she was grinning from ear to ear. She professed shock and disgust at the verdict, and made it clear that she thought Casey Anthony is as guilty as the day is long. She sounded somber – or rather, she sounded like she wanted to be somber.
But she was grinning that way you do when you get to be the one to pass on the latest gossip. Or when you have divined the plot twist that no one else saw coming.
I don’t think she has forgotten that this is indeed real life – that some years ago a toddler died horribly, and that ever since the child’s mother has stood accused of murder. I don’t think any of us has forgotten that. But events and our culture, and the twisted spectacle of cameras in the courtroom, have conspired to make us want to forget that. The spectacle and the sideshow barkers of cable “news” have endeavored to make us seek entertainment in tragedy.
Soon thereafter the drumbeat was picked up via social media, where it continues to beat strong. “No Justice for Caylee” is tweeted. “Porch-lights on for Caylee” says Facebook. Was there grinning there too, when those words were typed? I don’t know. But it seems to me that “porch-lights on for Caylee” is just as self-serving, just as mindlessly self-involving, as the delight one feels when one is the first to share some wonderful, terrible news.
Or maybe it’s just helplessness, and lashing out, and remembering a child who died and who died badly.
I don’t know because I’m not one who takes to the social-media pulpit over my rage about a verdict. I can’t put myself in the place of such a person, and therefore I will try my best not to judge such a person.
But likewise, I can’t put myself in the place of the Anthony trial jury. I can’t put myself in the place of Casey Anthony. I wasn’t there, at the trial, nor at the scene of Caylee’s death. I don’t know, can’t know, what happened.
So I can’t second guess the verdict. I must accept that it’s over. I have to hope that justice has been done.
And I have to hope that the rest of us can do the same.
