'The Origin of Satan'
By Mara Leveritt
June 25, 1999
As I write, officials of the Arkansas Department of Correction are considering whether or not to allow Death Row inmate Damien Echols to receive a copy of Elaine Pagels' book, "The Origin of Satan" and her other book, "The Gnostic Gospels."
The ADC doesn't let inmates read just any books. And it's particularly careful about what kind of reading matter it lets into the hands of Echols, who was sentenced to death in 1994 for killing three eight-year-old boys in West Memphis.
You might remember the trial. The prosecution's theory was that Echols and two other teenagers had slaughtered the second-graders as part of a Satanic ritual. The jury agreed, apparently unconcerned by the lack of physical evidence linking the victims to any form of ritual or linking the accused to the crime.
After HBO aired "Paradise Lost," a documentary that let the flimsiness of the state's case emerge through extensive courtroom footage, Echols began receiving mail from viewers around the country. Some of the correspondents sent him books to read. Few probably understood the level of vigilance in Arkansas prisons.
Authorities are allowed to censor mail for the purpose of maintaining security. They can -- and do -- also require that books be shipped only from bookstores or other commercial distributors. But even that precaution is not enough to assure that books will reach their intended recipients.
As many relatives and friends who have ordered books sent to Arkansas inmates know, the effort can be as futile as hurling books into a capricious black hole. Some books get delivered. Others disappear and are never seen again. Once, I ordered a book of Calvin and Hobbes cartoons sent to a prisoner at Tucker. It languished for months before I found out that he had never received it. The book was only "discovered" when I called the director's office, promising that my next phone call would be to postal officials.
Similarly, an inmate's subscription to the Arkansas Times was held up until the Postal Service began monitoring delivery. As a result of my own experiences and the complaints I'd heard from others, I figured I was beyond amazement on the subject of prison mail. But that was before I heard about the recent suspicion of Elaine Pagels.
Lorri Davis, a close friend of Echols', ordered the books for him three weeks ago through Amazon.com. Davis is an avid and educated reader, and Echols has become one. Over the past few years, she has purchased a number of books for him, most of which would rate as quality literature.
Davis estimates that about a fourth of the books she's had sent to Echols have not been delivered. One particularly heart-breaking example of a book that fell into the department's black hole, never to re-emerge, was "The Revolt of the Angels," a novel by Anatole France, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1921. The book is now out of print, and the copy Davis ordered was rare and valuable. Though a humorous book, it dealt with theology, and that apparently was enough to have it cast out of our prison system.
A while ago, Echols asked Davis to send the two works by Pagels. Two weeks after they should have arrived, when Echols still had not received them, Davis called the warden's office to inquire. She was told that the books were being reviewed by a committee of department officials that included the prison chaplain. At this writing, no decision had been made about whether Echols would be allowed to read them.
It's worth noting here the stature of the scholar whose writings these state employees are presuming to scrutinize. Pagels, a professor at Princeton University, is one of America's -- and, indeed, the world's -- most respected historians of religion. Her book, "The Gnostic Gospels," won the National Book Critics Circle Award and the National Book Award. She is, in other words, no intellectual or literary light-weight. Not that it should matter, (though it might, in Arkansas's current religiocratic climate), but Pagels is an eloquent and committed Christian.
God knows what it was about her books, beyond, perhaps, their titles, that should have raised such concern at the prison. The mystery deepens when one ponders some of the unsolicited books that others have sent to Echols, books that have sailed into his cell without a hint of official alarm. The cover of Bryan Lumley's paperback "Necroscope," features a skull with fangs and a red tongue -- naturally -- dripping blood. Equally edifying -- and apparently as acceptable -- was "Drawing Blood" by Poppy Z. Brite.
In light of such literary decisions, wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall for the discussion of Pagels' books? Maybe her next one could explore the origin of ignorance.
By Mara Leveritt
June 25, 1999
As I write, officials of the Arkansas Department of Correction are considering whether or not to allow Death Row inmate Damien Echols to receive a copy of Elaine Pagels' book, "The Origin of Satan" and her other book, "The Gnostic Gospels."
The ADC doesn't let inmates read just any books. And it's particularly careful about what kind of reading matter it lets into the hands of Echols, who was sentenced to death in 1994 for killing three eight-year-old boys in West Memphis.
You might remember the trial. The prosecution's theory was that Echols and two other teenagers had slaughtered the second-graders as part of a Satanic ritual. The jury agreed, apparently unconcerned by the lack of physical evidence linking the victims to any form of ritual or linking the accused to the crime.
After HBO aired "Paradise Lost," a documentary that let the flimsiness of the state's case emerge through extensive courtroom footage, Echols began receiving mail from viewers around the country. Some of the correspondents sent him books to read. Few probably understood the level of vigilance in Arkansas prisons.
Authorities are allowed to censor mail for the purpose of maintaining security. They can -- and do -- also require that books be shipped only from bookstores or other commercial distributors. But even that precaution is not enough to assure that books will reach their intended recipients.
As many relatives and friends who have ordered books sent to Arkansas inmates know, the effort can be as futile as hurling books into a capricious black hole. Some books get delivered. Others disappear and are never seen again. Once, I ordered a book of Calvin and Hobbes cartoons sent to a prisoner at Tucker. It languished for months before I found out that he had never received it. The book was only "discovered" when I called the director's office, promising that my next phone call would be to postal officials.
Similarly, an inmate's subscription to the Arkansas Times was held up until the Postal Service began monitoring delivery. As a result of my own experiences and the complaints I'd heard from others, I figured I was beyond amazement on the subject of prison mail. But that was before I heard about the recent suspicion of Elaine Pagels.
Lorri Davis, a close friend of Echols', ordered the books for him three weeks ago through Amazon.com. Davis is an avid and educated reader, and Echols has become one. Over the past few years, she has purchased a number of books for him, most of which would rate as quality literature.
Davis estimates that about a fourth of the books she's had sent to Echols have not been delivered. One particularly heart-breaking example of a book that fell into the department's black hole, never to re-emerge, was "The Revolt of the Angels," a novel by Anatole France, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1921. The book is now out of print, and the copy Davis ordered was rare and valuable. Though a humorous book, it dealt with theology, and that apparently was enough to have it cast out of our prison system.
A while ago, Echols asked Davis to send the two works by Pagels. Two weeks after they should have arrived, when Echols still had not received them, Davis called the warden's office to inquire. She was told that the books were being reviewed by a committee of department officials that included the prison chaplain. At this writing, no decision had been made about whether Echols would be allowed to read them.
It's worth noting here the stature of the scholar whose writings these state employees are presuming to scrutinize. Pagels, a professor at Princeton University, is one of America's -- and, indeed, the world's -- most respected historians of religion. Her book, "The Gnostic Gospels," won the National Book Critics Circle Award and the National Book Award. She is, in other words, no intellectual or literary light-weight. Not that it should matter, (though it might, in Arkansas's current religiocratic climate), but Pagels is an eloquent and committed Christian.
God knows what it was about her books, beyond, perhaps, their titles, that should have raised such concern at the prison. The mystery deepens when one ponders some of the unsolicited books that others have sent to Echols, books that have sailed into his cell without a hint of official alarm. The cover of Bryan Lumley's paperback "Necroscope," features a skull with fangs and a red tongue -- naturally -- dripping blood. Equally edifying -- and apparently as acceptable -- was "Drawing Blood" by Poppy Z. Brite.
In light of such literary decisions, wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall for the discussion of Pagels' books? Maybe her next one could explore the origin of ignorance.
