Per Jorgen Ystehede

Here be dragons: Lombroso, the gothic, and social control

Purpose – To propose a radically new way to understand the science of Cesare Lombroso, the first scientific criminologist, and thus to broaden understanding of the origins of criminology. n nApproach – Using both comparative and analytical methods, we locate Lombrosos science of criminal anthropology in the context of late nineteenth-century Gothicism. n nFindings – Lombrosos born criminals were Gothic creations, holdovers (like the crumbling castles of Gothic novels) from an earlier, less civilized period, human gargoyles (like the characters of Gothic romances) redolent of death and the uncanny. Moreover, Lombrosos Gothic science, with its depictions of physically and psychologically abnormal criminals, contributed to a transformation in social control by scientifically legitimating the social exclusion and intensified control of those perceived as morally monstrous. n nOriginality and value – This study creates a new framework for understanding Lombrosos contributions to criminological science and social control. Moreover, in a way that is almost unique in criminology, it combines historical research in literature and art with the history of science. n nResearch implications – To a degree not usually recognized, a science and its social control ramifications can be shaped by the artistic sensibilities and cultural traditions of the period in which it develops.

Two Suspicious Persons

In Norway, one of the best examples for examining cultural narratives of murder is what is known as the Lensmannsmordersaken, i.e., ‘the case of the county police officers murder’. After summarising the key events of this sensational 1926 case, this article will consider its presentation in the Norwegian press, the impact of contemporary debates around the death penalty, the influence of scientific understandings of criminality, and the cases subsequent reimagining in literature and film. This article shows how inter-war criminalistic fantasies reflected a broad variety of fears, notably those related to ethnic otherness and anxieties related to Norways then recent achievement of full political independence. A literary version of the case from the 1930s—one of Norways first ‘true-crime’ novels—is also considered, as is a post-war feature film based on the murder that was banned (for privacy reasons) in 1952 and not released again until 2007.