Incorrigible (review)

'My inability to confide my pain to others has added to my isolation. I envy those who are so brave, those with the courage to speak openly.'

—Velma Demerson, Incorrigible

The absence of women's voices is often lamented in histories of the criminal justice system. Velma Demerson's personal account of her entanglement with the criminal law is thus a welcome contribution. Demerson was only eighteen years old when she was arrested for being 'incorrigible' under the Female Refuges Act. Her offence was to be a white woman who loved, and became pregnant by, a Chinese man. Too late she realizes that, to officialdom, there can be nothing worse 'than a white woman willing to challenge government policy designed to "protect" her' (51). Originally sentenced to one year at the Belmont Home for Girls, Demerson was transferred to the Mercer Reformatory when the Belmont Home closed in 1939. Incorrigible tells the story of Demerson's life, from the events leading up to her imprisonment, to her experiences in the reformatory, and to her struggles to resume a meaningful life with her son after her release.

Voicelessness is an evident theme in the book. After a trial that seems to proceed without her, Demerson travels to jail in the 'Black Maria': 'I'm alone, trapped, voiceless.' To emphasize this fact, she screams and throws herself on the floor of the van, only to be told by a jail guard, 'It won't do you any good – you can't get out' (44). At the Mercer, she quickly learns to join 'the voiceless tribe' (6). The prison dress they give her is too big, and her prison cell so small that she can touch both walls by putting her arms out: 'The small cell reinforces my feelings that I'm shrinking' (7).

In contrast to her muted, small self, the overwhelming power of the state is manifest. This power extends into the minutae of everyday life. One clear experience of prison is confusion: Neither Demerson nor her fellow inmates ever clearly know what is happening. 'We live in a "don't know" world and a matron must never divulge information or even speak to an inmate unnecessarily' (93). The regimented routines, the solitariness of confinement, the drudgery of the work, and – perhaps most horrifying – the painful medical experiments conducted on the prisoners by Dr Edna Guest all take their momentous toll: 'My environment has taken over my entire being – there is no spirituality, no romance, only pragmatism' (17).

Importantly, throughout the book, Demerson makes it abundantly clear that the world of the prison is not an exception to the rest of society, but its extension. The eugenic intentions of Dr Guest are celebrated beyond the prison walls, where she enjoys recognition for her role in social hygiene programs. The racism that defines as 'immoral' the relations between white women and Chinese men also haunts her son, whose mixed race heritage becomes a cause for social exclusion. The patriarchal nature of the law is personalized in the controlling, and often violent, impact of men in women's lives. The lack of control Demerson experiences over her body while at the Mercer is a concentrated form of the lack of control she, and the other women who populate the book, experience in their sexual and reproductive relations.

Demerson's biography also offers a glimpse into the lives of many women and men who tend to be silenced by history. Through her, we learn of the experiences of those who must struggle with welfare officials, employment opportunities, abortion, mothering, sex, prostitution, gambling, racism, poverty, and the law. We learn the price of 'respectability' as well as of 'deviance.' But we also learn about resilience, agency, defiance, and resistance. These take shape in the concrete forms of Demerson's life, as she finds that friendships can be forged in places that demand silence, that love and respect can be earned despite official opprobrium, and that resistance is possible despite the overwhelming odds of confronting power. Demerson concludes by saying she 'feels fortunate for having...