Reviewed by Ambrea
According to Lady
Killers, a FBI profiler infamously declared, “There are no female serial
killers.” Tori Telfer, in her book, sets out to prove him wrong with
fourteen examples of creepy, cruel, cunning, and horrific killers—all female,
all as violent and as destructive as their male counterparts. In Lady
Killers, Telfer explores the likes of Erzebet (aka Elizabeth) Bathory, Nannie Doss, Mary
Ann Cotton, and Darya Nikolayevna, diving deep into the complex realities of
female aggression—and predation.
I picked up Lady
Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History when I was putting it
on the shelf. I suppose I had a morbid curiosity about serial killers,
plus I found the bright pink lettering and creepy imprints on the cover oddly
appealing. I picked it up, checked it out, and proceeded to enjoy it far
more than I probably should have.
I had a handful of
chapters that I really enjoyed: “The Sorceress of Kilkenny,” which
featured Alice Kyteler, who was accused of being a witch and killing four
husbands; “Vipers,” featuring Raya and Sakina, prostitutes who owned a brothel
and murdered several young women (and possible others) in Egypt after World War
I; “Wretched Woman,” which focused on Mary Ann Cotton, who killed several of her
own children, several of her husbands’ children, several husbands (in fact, she
killed all but one) and lovers and, quite probably, many more; and, finally,
“The Tormentor,” a chapter about Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova, a Russian
noblewoman and genocidal maniac.
These were just a few of
the more fascinating chapters in my opinion; however, every chapter was
thought-provoking and captivating in its own right. Tori Telfer does a
fantastic job as an author, creating a thoroughly researched and interesting book
on an increasingly morbid topic. She writes with a sense of humor, but
also a deep appreciation of forgotten and/or misinterpreted history.
In particular, I
appreciated Telfer’s dedication to telling the truth or, at the very least,
getting all her facts straight. Telfer cuts through the terrible rumors
and unfounded accusations that surround many of these women, dismissing what
she cannot prove, and creates a believable portrait of each individual.
Elizabeth Bathory, for
instance, is surrounded by a dark mythos of blood, terror, and sex. She
has become, on numerous occasions, a scandalous icon for debauchery and murder,
a female counterpart to the wildly popular story of Dracula. So much of
what I knew of her was unreal; however, Telfer makes an effort to humanize her,
to reveal her as a real person. Yes, she committed heinous crimes and,
yes, she was no doubt a murderess, but Telfer tells the story of a
woman—albeit, a deeply disturbed woman—rather than a vampire or a dark
temptress as she’s sometimes portrayed.
Overall, I think Lady
Killers is an interesting book, but I realize it’s not for
everyone. It’s a book about serial killers, which means it’s invariably
going to border on being gruesome, macabre, and downright bloody. The
ladies in Telfer’s book are unequivocally terrifying, just as much as any male
serial killer. Many of them, like the murderous women of Nagyrev and
Nannie Doss, got away with killing for years; others, such as Alice Kyteler and
Kate Bender, escaped justice altogether. They’re all killers, plain and
simple, and they’re frightening in their own right.
Perhaps one of the most
frightening, in my opinion, was Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova. Darya was a
Russian noblewoman who lived during the reign of Catherine the Great and she
killed, at the very least, 138 people (mostly women) during her lifetime.
She was inventive in her murders and, at times, she would kill someone with her
bare hands if she didn’t think anyone else would or could do it. And, as
the author points out, she showed zero remorse:
“So Darya killed and killed again, confident in
her impregnability and furious at her serfs for each petty mistake, for getting
in her way, for being her responsibility, for existing. If she was a god,
then her serfs were her pitiful playthings. She could make them clean;
she could make them cook; she could make them scream and bleed and beg.
[…] ‘I am my own mistress,’ she cried. ‘I am not afraid of
anyone.’ This belief that she was superior, unassailable, and even consecrated
by the law was integral to her sense of self. Perhaps she killed to prove
one simple point: that she could.”
To me, Darya is
petrifying, right up there with Charles Manson or Jeffrey Dahmer.
