In the liner notes to the CD release of Johnny Cash’s legendary concert recording at

Folsom Prison, Cash evokes the mortifi cations prison visits on the men he has played to:

All of you have the same things snuffed out of your lives, every thing it seems that makes a man a

man — women, money, a family, a job, the open road, the city, the country, ambition, power, success,

failure — a million things.

After reading Comack’s book, it is clear that of the million things that ‘ make a man a

man’ outside the prison, all too many find a corresponding life inside. This book is a

timely reminder of what Joe Sim pointed to, some years ago now, when he observed that

what was needed was prison research that considered ‘ prisoners as men’ , rather than

more of the conventional ‘ men as prisoners ‘ research ( Sim 1994 : 101). The prison, says

Sim, rather than emasculating men in the fashion referred to in Sykes classic study, is a

perverse ‘ celebration of masculinity ‘ . The obstinate myth of the destruction of manhood

by prison’s ‘ figurative castration ‘ ( Sykes 1958 ) is a persistent feature of what Pat Carlen

(2008) has recently referred to as ‘ imaginary penality’ , a set of convenient delusions.

Though the pains of imprisonment Cash knows well enough are genuine, the

‘ emasculation ‘ myth makes facile but expedient sense of the otherwise unspoken gender

dynamic that Comack explores here in some detail. The toxic connections she traces

between masculinities and violence lead her to coin an apt new verb, ‘ prisoning ‘ , to

refer to its morbid social consequences.

Comack begins with a reflection on how contemporary events, such as George

W. Bush’s declaration of a ‘ War on Terror ‘ , intensifi ed her motivating concerns. In the

immediate aftermath of the destruction of the World Trade Centre, the ubiquity of

men’s violence looms large for Comack. She quickly sketches a line between the stories

of criminal violence in her local Winnipeg newspaper, the onset of bombing raids in

Afghanistan and her imminent arrival at the local prison to talk to the men held there

about violence. She is equally quick, however, to insist she will not be resorting to any

simplistic ‘ men-as-a-group are to blame ‘ analysis.

The first chapter sets out the specific context of the Canadian prison complex,

indicating its high ranking in the incarcerative index headed by the United States, its

similarly neo-liberal tendencies and its particular relationship to Aboriginal peoples. In

her home province of Manitoba, for instance, she cites the fact that while ‘ Aboriginal

peoples made up only 11% of the population ‘ , they constitute ‘ a whopping 70% in

sentenced custody admissions ‘ (p. 12). She also laments, echoing Loic Wacquant’s (2002)

obituary to prison ethnography, the ‘ astounding dearth of empirically grounded,

descriptive material on how prisoners in Canadian penitentiaries actually live, experience,

understand and organize their lives ‘ (p. 13). The chapter continues with a brief evaluative

summary of the ‘ men, masculinity and crime ‘ literature. It is perhaps the duty of professors

to cut a long story short, for their students at least, and Comack achieves this admirably

well. I would happily offer this tidy summary of a complex theoretical debate to new

undergraduate students struggling to appreciate criminology’s persistent diffi culty with

gender. It is helpful in briefl y outlining the psycho-social perspectives exemplified in

Jefferson and Collier’s work, and the contrasting socio-structural themes of Messerschmidt.

The pioneering work of Connell remains, inevitably, pivotal to both. The opening chapter

ends by introducing the theme that gives the book its title and has, for this reviewer, been

the most haunting, evocative and elusive of its ideas. Perhaps because of the immediacy

of my recent research experience, criss-crossing the prison threshold over a protracted

period, talking with men about being in prison, even having been a prisoner myself, and

being a man myself, I felt something original and profound was being raised about the

ontology of men and prison, and was eager to follow its development.

The accounts of some of the 19 men whom Comack interviewed are presented in

alternating Out There/In Here thematic biographical narratives, that begin with ‘ Boys ‘

Lives ‘ . The men are referred to by first names and are allowed extensive quotes to

convey their experiences. Each has painful stories to tell, all marked by violence done to

them and by them. In this respect, the book delivers some thick descriptive data.

Comack, as a middle-class, white, ‘ un-prisoned ‘ woman, is careful to qualify her capacity

for rendering an authentic account of prisoners ‘ lives and notes the differences that

might emerge had she shared more of her respondents characteristics. This question of

connection, depth and identifi cation remained slightly problematic and unresolved for

although the account is rich in empathy, detail and insight, I never felt close to or

involved in the lives and times of the men being presented. I no doubt share some of the

distances felt by Comack, in my case exacerbated by virtue of my experiential ignorance

of all things Canadian. The sequence of narratives that moved chronologically and

spatially from ‘ boys ‘ lives ‘ ‘ out there ‘ , through the ‘ care/custody mangle ‘ towards ‘ men’s

lives ‘ ‘ in here ‘ , seldom developed a cohesion or momentum that might have made their

stories more compelling. The men remained disembodied fragments of quotation and

polaroid portraiture without ever securing a life of their own in the text.

The challenge of representation in prison research is intense and perhaps my

difficulties derive more from Comack’s method than her telling of it. Nineteen men

among a population of 459 prisoners elected to be interviewed after responding to

poster requests for participation in the study. In a useful ‘ Afterword ‘ describing the

research process, Comack describes the interviews as averaging ‘ one hour ‘ , the shortest

being 30 minutes, the longest over two hours. Comack does not describe any other

sources of personal insight into the men’s lives in prison, or outside, save to say she

assured her respondents she declined to examine their offi cial files.

Despite the qualifications discussed in the ‘ Afterword ‘ , I have reservations as to

whether an account based on such a research strategy can remedy ‘ the astounding dearth

of empirically grounded, descriptive material on how prisoners in Canadian penitentiaries

actually live, experience and organize their lives ‘ . An ethnographic approach to

researching prisoners ‘ lives is fraught with diffi culty but having recently completed two

eight-month efforts of partial immersion, with a colleague, in two English prisons, I am

probably biased towards an approach that seeks some semblance of ethnographic depth.

I do not mean to diminish her account with a competitive claim to having conducted a

bigger and better study, and I share absolutely Comack’s concerns about the empirical

gaps, but I reluctantly fail to be convinced by this attempt to plug them.

Comack’s ‘ Out There/In Here ‘ motif captures the ironic symmetry of the men’s lives.

She sees the ‘ resources for acquiring the widely circulated symbols of hegemonic

masculinity, such as clothes, cars and the attention of women ‘ (p. 141) being channelled

through violence and crime and the ‘ prisoning ‘ doing nothing to diminish either. Their

masculine identities are bruised but fortifi ed. The potential power of the motif extends,

in my experience, to the way men in prison are also plunged into their own inner world

in the midst of the permanent and ever present throng of fellow prisoners. In such

circumstances, they frequently erect a brittle shell around an otherwise fragile ontological

security. The process throws into sharp relief the way similar pressures outside prison

shape men, society and our ideas about penal security ( Matravers and Maruna 2004 ).

All too often, the result is a kind of crustacean ontology increasingly mirrored in the

formal institutions of the state (cf. Torpey 2000 : 93) of which the prison is simply an

exemplar.

The eight pages of the final chapter, ‘ Resisting and Creating Masculinities’ , hardly

seemed sufficient for the topics that the preceding accounts had opened up. Her book

is a helpful contribution to a thankfully growing critical literature that recognises the

gendering dynamic of prisons and their wider social implications in an insecure world.

In the end, though, it was asking a lot of the 19 men she met to give more than a fleeting

glimpse of ‘ the million things ‘ that make a man a man, what is snuffed out in prison and

what survives.

Rod Earle

The Open University doi:10.1093/bjc/azp052

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In this book, Elizabeth Comack examines the lives of nineteen male offenders residing at a correctional facility in Canada. The author worked closely with the Corrections Division of Manitoba Justice in order to obtain her subjects. Comack gathered the data during the fall of 2001. This is significant because it was in the wake of 9/11 and the “War on Terror.” While it is possible that this may have affected the study’s internal validity, the author nevertheless did an excellent job in conducting her research. It is important to note that all of the author’s subjects were in a provincial jail. This means that they all had sentences of less than two years. Nevertheless, many of the respondents in this project were hardened criminals. Some were incarcerated for theft, while others were there for drug dealing. Still, other inmates were serving time for assault or sexual violence. In fact, one interviewee had been in and out of prison eleven times over the previous twenty-one years.
    One of the major premises of this book is that the subjects were concerned with constructing masculine identities. Comack contends that custodial institutions encourage male inmates to engage in masculine behaviour whenever possible. This can include partaking in violent acts against other offenders. Given this contention, it is no wonder that there is an enormous amount of violence in correctional facilities in both the United States and in Canada. This book also provides insights into the perspectives of offenders. In the book, Comack cites numerous studies that identify the overrepresentation of this special population in penal institutions. For example, she points to one study which claims that Aboriginal peoples comprise only 3 percent of the Canadian populations, yet they make p between 17 to 22 percent of the total adult inmate population.  Clearly, this is disturbing to say the least. I consider myself to be a prison researcher; however, I was completely taken aback by Comack’s discussion of the Aboriginal inmates. Before reading Comack’s book, I thought that the overrepresentation of minority inmates was mainly an American phenomenon. Clearly, I was very mistaken. I am very grateful to have read this book because it certainly opened my mind and forced me to examine issues in another country besides the United States.
Another interesting feature of this book is that Comack explored the childhood experiences of her subjects. This makes for very interesting reading and is alone worth the price of the book. Though all of the respondents had very interesting stories to tell, I was particularly interested in the narratives that related to juvenile gangs. For example, one respondent (who Comack refers to as “George”) joined a gang during his teenage years. He speaks candidly about fighting with rival gang members and harassing civilians. When asked why he robbed innocent victims as a juvenile, “George” replied that he wanted to degrade people in order to demonstrate his toughness as a person. After a bit of probing, however, “George” admits to Comack that he did not feel good about attacking civilians. He even admits that he may have been jealous. There is no doubt that scholars who are interested in juvenile gangs will enjoy reading this book. It provides the reader with amazing insights into gangs and delinquency in urban areas.
In addition to discussing the problems related to gangs, Comack also explores the role of Child and Family Services (CFS) in Canada. In one case, a thirty-four year-old Aboriginal respondent claimed to have been shuffled from place to place by the above agency when he was a juvenile. His early child years consisted of numerous foster homes. It seems apparent from reading this book the Aboriginal inmates were institutionalized at an early age, and this may have eventually led to their incarceration. Comack raises the question as to whether or not this state intervention is in the “best interests of the child.” After reading this section of the book, I was convinced that the CFS did a disservice to at least one of the respondents. I can only imagine how many other cases like this might exist. Though this was a very disturbing section of the book, it was extremely interesting and thought provoking. In fact, it would be very likely to lead to a lively discussion in virtually any upper-level undergraduate or graduate class related to prisons or juvenile delinquency.
While Comack writes extensively about the respondent’ recollections of their childhoods and teenage years, the author also discusses what she refers to as the “prisoning” of her subjects. According to Comack, this refers to the manner in which offenders attempt to construct masculine identities in spite of living in controlled and monotonous environments. Interestingly, and perhaps not surprisingly, the author found that sex offenders had the most difficult in trying to establish masculine identities. For example, one respondent, referred to as “Rudy”, was cast at the bottom of the prison hierarchy for raping a woman he had met at a bar. In his narrative, the respondent attempts to justify this act by claiming that society encourages men to be sexually assertive towards women. He shows little remorse for his victim, he even describes her as a “waste of skin.” Another example involves a pedophile who is referred to as “Stan.” This respondent sexually molested his daughter. He attempts to construct his masculine identify by stating that there were medical issues which caused him to offend. Still, he acknowledges later that “any man should know better.”
I highly recommend this book. It was very enjoyable to read and very informative. It also tells us much about the manner by which inmates attempt to achieve masculine identities. For this reason, the book would be very appropriate for a gender studies class. As mentioned earlier, it would also make excellent supplemental reading material for a class related to prisons or social control. Finally, it would behove American scholars to examine this book. There is no doubt that they will learn quite a bit about Canadian prisons. I learned a lot, and will definitely adopt this book the next time I teach a comparative criminal justice class.

Robert M. Worley
    Penn State Altoona
 
 

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