A Victorian Hangman Tells His Love

I don't often feel proud to be Australian.  But this week I have had reason to.  

The last time the Australian state sanctioned the killing of one of it's citizens was in 1967*.  Sure our human rights record is pretty atrocious in so many other areas, but at least we have this one sorted.  Not so America, as we have unfortunately witnessed this week.  

Image copied from here.

It feels like "unfortunately" is far too soft and common a word to describe the murder of Troy Davis by the State of Georgia.

As I have been thinking about this issue I remembered this poem by Bruce Dawe.  I remember how it chilled me when I first read it as a naive 16 year old.  And it still chills me now.

A Victorian Hangman Tells His Love**

Dear one, forgive my appearing before you like this,
in a two-piece tracksuit, welder’s goggles
and a green cloth cap like some gross bee – this is the State’s idea…
I would have come
arrayed like a bridegroom for these nuptials
knowing how often you have dreamed about this
moment of consummation in your cell.
If I must bind your arms now to your sides
with a leather strap and ask if you have anything to say
– these too are formalities I would dispense with:
I know your heart is too full at this moment
to say much and that the tranquilliser which I trust
you did not reject out of a stubborn pride
should by this have eased your ache for speech, breath
and the other incidentals which distract us from our end.
Let us now walk a step. This noose
with which we’re wed is something of an heirloom, the last three
members of our holy family were wed with it, the softwood beam
it hangs from like a lover’s tree notched with their weight.
See now I slip it over your neck, the knot
under the left jaw, with a slip ring
to hold the knot in place… There. Perfect.
Allow me to adjust the canvas hood
which will enable you to anticipate the officially prescribed darkness
by some seconds.
The journalists are ready with the flash-bulbs of their eyes
raised to the simple altar, the doctor twitches like a stethoscope
– you have been given a clean bill of health, like any
modern bride.
With this spring of mine
from the trap, hitting the door lever, you will go forth
into a new life which I, alas, am not yet fit to share.
Be assured, you will sink into the generous pool of public feeling
as gently as a leaf – accept your rôle, feel chosen.
You are this evening’s headlines. Come, my love.

The poem is about the hanging of Ronald Ryan.  He was the last victim of capital punishment in Australia.   I have lifted the poem from here .  It is a lecture given by Bruce Dawe.  In discussing his poem he says:

"Manners, conventions, customs are means by which the state seeks, at times, to legitimize the illegitimate."

The lecture was given in  2008 but these words apply perfectly to the State of Georgia.  They have tried to legitimize the illegitimate.  Moral discussions about capital punishment cannot center around issues of innocence and guilt.  If the taking of a life is unlawful for the citizens, how can it not be unlawful for the state?

 *Capital punishment was not abolished in Australia until many years later but no death sentences were carried out after 1967. 

** I have reproduced the poem in a font called "Georgia".