Like Lying a Child Down to Rest: An Essay On Mercy in Of Mice and Men
Author's note: this essay was written for a school assignment. It also contains some quite heavy novel/film spoilers for Of Mice and Men as well (obviously), so... take that as you will.
Manslaughter is a tricky thing: oftentimes, the victim is unable to properly explain what they themselves want the outcome to be, with only careful examination reaping the answers, however inconclusive they may be. John Steinbeck’s masterpiece of literature Of Mice and Men exemplifies this philosophy, with an execution being the final event taking place in its hundred page length. The book’s cold open focuses on two men, the leader being a small, scruffy man named George, and his trailer as Lennie, a gentle, mentally-handicapped giant. Throughout the rest of its story, the two men share both similar and vastly different experiences: they find a migrant worker job, recite their dream of owning a homey plot of land, and eat canned food roasting on a campfire. Only one thing could have driven them apart: death, and its tragic toll on both of the lead characters. Its final scene is like a painting… the leaves rustled tirelessly. Two men are situated next to a river, one standing, one kneeling. The standing figure, George, lifts a gun to the back of the resting Lennie, who knows nothing of the repercussions of his accidental murder of a woman who is no more than a stranger to the both of them. George holds still for a moment, recites their now impossible dream one last time, and then pulls the trigger. A shot rings out, and the colossus softly falls to the ground. The dead man’s final thoughts were of a hope, of an aspiration; he did not know what he had done, for the killing of an innocent woman did not faze him as much as a pup feinting death. The scene lacks a surprising amount of detail: it is almost as if the two characters involved resemble little more than humanity itself. Raw, unadulterated pain and capital punishment would have surely befallen Lennie if he had not been remorsefully, mercifully slain by his very best friend, a friend who will never get over what he has done.
One of the most important factors when deciding between a murder versus an act of manslaughter would be the explicit feelings and thoughts the convicted would express after taking another human life, which should innately show George's innocent intentions of the killing. Right after Lennie’s death, “Slim twitched George’s elbow. ‘Come on, George. Me an’ you’ll go in an’ get a drink.’ George let himself be helped to his feet. ‘Yeah, a drink,’” strongly implies George’s numbness following his recent actions, signaling a depressed, hollow character not seen before (Steinbeck 107). If he were truly a murderer, George would not mind what he had committed; instead, he lets himself be limply stood up and succumbs to an inevitable barrage of thought-locking liquor. Even before then, George is stated to have, “...looked steadily at his right hand that had held the gun,” further pushing the idea that the only person left of the duo is utterly scarred by what he has done (Steinbeck 107). A murderer would think nothing of it, perhaps even bragging about what they did: George is now silent and numb, a broken, guilty man who will never be the same. The answers are still not completely clear, but a conclusion can be made that George has been affected by his act more so than any murderer could have possibly been.
Some living fates can have even more devastating consequences than death itself. This idea is not more apparent than in the real case of Gigi Jordan, a woman who killed her young autistic son Jude in an alleged mercy killing: Jordan’s eight year old boy was at the hands of several disturbing instances of fatherly abuse, including, but not limited to, “...shoved feces in his mouth, stuck needles under his fingernails, and stabbed him in the hand repeatedly in addition to sexual abuse,” among other methods of inane torture (Rosenberg). Upon realizing what her son had been a repeated victim of, Jordan administered a lethal dose of drugs to both herself and Jude, hoping to kill the both of them: while the mother succeeded in freeing the one most in pain, she failed on her own suicide and was awaiting trial at the time of the article’s release. No matter if she is guilty or not, her case paints a picture: this mother was so desperate to free her son from his alleged suffering that she went to the extent of killing him at such a tragically young age. Yet another trial includes that of John Wise’s killing of his comatose wife, where his defense lawyer spoke, “She hadn’t verbalized anything… and what he saw was agony, desperation, and pain,” (Qtd. in Rivera). Sometimes, a person in distress is unable to properly express their feelings of pain, leading to loved ones conflicted as to what would be best to do: in this case, Mr. Wise, a married man for 45 years, believed he knew keeping his wife on live support would be the furthest from what the both of them would have wanted. Although it depends on the circumstances, it is possible to have death be the only possible escape from what would otherwise become a horrible, painful existence.
Yet, there are still questionable aspects as to when a mercy killing should be excused, specifically in how far in advance the execution should be planned for. However, despite the seemingly rushed final actions of George, it is most likely that this main character had realized this outcome as soon as the outward appearance of their dreams had been shattered for good. Lance Anderson, a once innocent man, is now living out the rest of his life in prison for murdering both his former sister and sickly wife; Julie Kramer, a key investigator put on this crime scene, quipped, “[Anderson] tried to control both women, and in an ultimate form of control, killed them both,” (Qtd. in Serna). If Anderson had truly wanted to end his wife’s suffering, he would have simply shot her and turned himself in, but instead murdered his sister in the same house just hours later, presumably to clumsily rid the crime of a key witness. George, on the other hand, was extremely hesitant to pull the trigger, the trigger deciding the single bullet separating Lennie from peace or unspeakable agony.
Combining all of these statements into one final truth, it is clear to see that George’s innocence will always ring true, no matter what would become of him after the novel closes. He was hesitant, and rightfully so, but ultimately chose to spare his morality for Lennie’s ultimate benefit. If not for this final action, it is in no question that the soft-spoken, gentle man readers love so would be ridiculed, scorned, and, quite possibly, even tortured. From the great words of Frederick Forsyth, a writer who once witnessed soldiers die in the heat of battle, “If it’s done in a hospital by a man in a white coat, it’s fine. But on a battlefield apparently it’s murder. There are times when it is bloody obvious that a man cannot survive,” (Qtd. in Foster). In putting his best friend down to rest, George’s final words reciting their dream, akin to a bedtime story spoken to a child, he sacrificed everything that could, and would, had ever come true.
Works Cited
Foster, Patrick. "'Serious public debate' needed on soldier mercy killings, Frederick Forsyth
says." The Telegraph. Telegraph Media Group, 27 Jan. 2017. Web. 12 Feb. 2017.
Rivera, Ray. "Ohio Man’s Shooting of Ailing Wife Raises Questions About ‘Mercy Killings’."
The New York Times. The New York Times, 23 Aug. 2012. Web. 02 Feb. 2017.
Rosenberg, Rebecca. "Millionaire admits to 'mercy killing' of autistic son." New York Post. NYP
Holdings, Inc., 08 Oct. 2014. Web. 30 Jan. 2017.
Serna, Joseph. "Man who shot his wife and sister in alleged 'mercy killings' sentenced to 100
years to life." Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles Times, 10 Aug. 2016. Web. 30 Jan. 2017.
Steinbeck, John. Of Mice and Men. New York: Penguin , 1993. Print.