There Are Two Ways to Tell the Story of Sandy Fawkes

April 5, 2019 9:15 AM

The first is how it’s always been told, as a joke, as dark comedy, making her out into a villain, a vixen, a barfly, an object of derision and then, later, pity .... The other way—the way I want, I need, to tell it—is as a story of trauma. Of tragedies never fully recovered from, of terrible decisions leading to other terrible decisions, of alcohol as self-medication, and of some degree of contentment achieved after the largest possible toll. A sensational story, yes, but underneath the sensation was something more complicated, and thus, more interesting. Sandy Fawkes: The Reporter and The Serial Killer by Sarah Weinman [CW: Murder, Rape, Abuse, Suicide, Alcoholism]
posted by chavenet (10 comments total)

Barstools would beckon Sandy for the rest of her adult life, and alcohol offered its temporary soothing balm of obliteration of her pain. But it could never make the sorrow disappear entirely.

This reads as if it were written by a melodramatic teetotaler. 1970s Fleet Street was a hard-drinking place (and I think London journalists still out drink their US counterparts). It could be argued that an entire culture was self-medicating through alcohol, but that's different from trying to turn a real person into the tragic loner of your imagination.
posted by betweenthebars at 9:51 AM on April 5, 2019 [4 favorites]

Yeah, I'm confused by the tone of the article.... she was a successful journalist who yes, slept with a serial killer-- but was astronomically lucky and managed to escape with her life, and who died in her 70s surrounded by grandchildren. Interesting read though.
posted by coffeeand at 10:02 AM on April 5, 2019 [12 favorites]

I read the article earlier this morning, and yeah, the tone is weird -- it feels like there's an undercurrent of slut-shaming to it, even though the author outwardly appears to admire Sandy's free-spiritedness.
posted by sarcasticah at 10:35 AM on April 5, 2019 [6 favorites]

"Sandy’s teenage years coincided with World War II, the Blitz, the whole “keep calm” ethos. The thing to do was to tamp it down, to transcend the trauma, to channel the rage so deep as to hardly feel it at all."

Pardon?
posted by Jody Tresidder at 11:39 AM on April 5, 2019 [2 favorites]

I didn't know of Sandy Fawkes or this case at all. The article was really interesting for me, given that the Fawke's life and experiences during that specific week are fascinating. I'd like to learn more Fawkes, given what I've read here.

I'm also a bit confused about what this article is trying to say. When I read it, I assumed this was because I'm not the article's target audience--it's clearly written for people who have heard about the case before. But now that I'm seeing others are also a bit unsure about the article's message, I'm not sure what to think.

Would it make sense to say that this article (and, more generally, all work on Fawke's week with the serial killer) is an exploration of the seeming contradiction between a woman being able to say, "I spent the last week with a guy, and it wasn't that special" and then learning that, during that same week, the guy was on a murder spree?
posted by meese at 11:57 AM on April 5, 2019 [3 favorites]

The author of this weird piece quotes a couple of dismissive-sounding sentences from an article by the veteran British journalist Janet Street-Porter, remembering the way Sally Fawkes typically dressed at work in Fleet Street in the early 1970s ("black sparkly tight sweaters...black stockings..") - and the quote links back to the full Janet Street-Porter article.

Janet S-P may not be everyone's cup of tea, to put it mildly, but her complete quote about Sally ("Sandy") Fawkes actually brims with intelligent empathy and context.

(Please note well younger mefites - this is about 1971):

"Most weekdays, at 1pm, Sandy and I walked up the road to El Vino's wine bar, in Fleet Street, where women were not allowed to buy drinks or stand at the bar. We sat at a small round table in the back room with the opera critic from The Guardian, Philip Hope-Wallace, the editor of the Daily Express, Derek Marks, and various other middle-aged executives who liked nothing more than to stare at my legs and buy me champagne. Sandy was a complete star in this environment, graciously accepting compliments and downing bucketloads of champers without appearing to get pissed. I was awed by her confidence and ready put-downs. In the office I felt intimidated by unattractive sub-editors who were invariably male, white and middle-aged. Senior executives just slavered over me. Sandy taught me to stand my ground and win..."


posted by Jody Tresidder at 12:54 PM on April 5, 2019 [3 favorites]

The other way—the way I want, I need, to tell it—is as a story of trauma

the sheer gall of saying this about a story that was told at least twice by the woman it happened to

and I don't mean she shouldn't be as critical as she likes of Fawkes' own focus, biases, writing style, and judgement. but jesus
posted by queenofbithynia at 1:30 PM on April 5, 2019 [5 favorites]

Sandy Fawkes' subconscious knew Knowles was big trouble!

She joked with him about it and deflected him at every turn. And I don't think it's any coincidence that he made his fatal misstep mere hours after she left him standing there. I think he was so flummoxed and enraged by the ease with which she dealt with him that he felt compelled to attack another woman without taking his usual precautions just so he could regain the sense of power and dominion over women that was central to his image of himself.

Wow, Alex Honnold's free climb of El Cap is less amazing than what she did.

I've met a few very attractive women who chose to have a lot to do with men who had similar instincts, developed at a similar cost I don't doubt, but Fawkes' performance with Knowles is like a gold medal routine at a secret Dark Olympics.
posted by jamjam at 1:40 PM on April 5, 2019 [3 favorites]

1970s Fleet Street was a hard-drinking place

right, so it means something real when a woman was known as a spectacular drinker in that milieu and by those peers, which she was.

I am not qualified to assess the Telegraph obituary of her, although I do have opinions of it. but from it:

"She reminds me of my mother," one regular, a former guardsman, Bill Moore, remarked one night, "I hate her." He kicked out towards her, but missed.

what a deeply satisfying story to have told about you, among all the less satisfying other ones. I think Weinman missed, too.
posted by queenofbithynia at 2:07 PM on April 5, 2019 [3 favorites]

I knew her a bit in the early eighties and even in the spectacularly drunken milieu of the Coach and Horses in Greek Street she was notable as a really hard core alcoholic: I mean someone whose primary relationship was with the drink in front of her and not with whoever she was talking to. There was a lot of affection for her, but by that stage she seemed a shell of whoever she'd been.
posted by alloneword at 1:53 PM on April 8, 2019