It's no accident that crime gets lots of attention. This speaks for the journalism cliché: If it bleeds, it leads.
When I read the story of the Lockdown Ladies' Burial Club recently, I was technically sympathising with five women who had killed their husbands. The novel The Best Way to Bury Your Husband looks like a black comedy – and it is.
After the five women had been caught on the dilemma of disposing the dead bodies, they put their heads together to make plans and brainstorm for disposal-site ideas. By pure, horrific change, two of them came up with the ingenious idea of pouring cat litter to dry the body out and stop it stinking.
Slushy nonsense? Not a bit of it. All the women had good reason and deserved the option to get rid of the abusive relationship. Their choice seems to be the only one to stop men being violent. Instead of hiding blue-green bruises by ivory makeup, shutting up to avoid burns because of wrong words, wrong tone, or even wrong place to set the cup down, the women killed in self-defense.
The way this novel was set in the lockdown period speaks for the spiking of domestic abuse since 2020. The abuser says, "You can't go out; you're not going anywhere." As the pandemic dragged on, one of the women in the novel paused at the newspaper front page showing volunteer gravediggers hard at work, with the headline "funeral and burial services unable to keep up with demand." Surely, nobody would notice if one more dead husband was filled in.
The sad truth is that far more women were killed by the partners than vice versa. Can anyone notice?