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Missoula came out in 2015, but it’s shocking to no one that the content remains as relevant as ever. The efficacy of Krakauer’s book stems from two things: its focus on the facts and its emphasis on society’s love of hierarchies.
I haven’t read many nonfiction books that delved into acquaintance rape in the way Missoula did. In an effort to avoid undercutting or misrepresenting anyone’s experiences, Krakauer tells the accounts of victims in a clinical manner that reminds the audience that just because the women knew their assailants, the sexual experiences they had were in no way romantic or sensual. The diction choices tear away the audience’s ability to proceed with cognitive dissonance. Readers are asked to take in the accounts of victims with their biases left at the door.
Rather than look at each victim’s experience in a bubble, we are given context. We are given insight into what the victims told the police in the instances where they felt brave enough to come forward. We are given a chance to see what the community expressed in online forums where they could hide behind computer screens and eject their unfiltered thoughts. We are given the opportunity to see how societal expectations of college football players compare to that of young women.
Kirsten Pabst plays a crucial role in symbolizing how our society fails victims of sexual assault. Hellbent on supporting Griz players and protecting her manufactured success rate as an attorney, Pabst played into the myth that the trauma endured by assault victims is trivial compared to a man’s loss of reputation or social status. This is not an uncommon phenomenon.
According to a report by NBC News in January, in Los Angeles, 1.4% of violent sex crimes end in conviction. RAINN’s statistics on the criminal justice system state that “out of every 1,000 sexual assaults, 975 perpetrators will walk free.”
Missoula makes it clear why this happens—and how defense attorneys leave juries with a sense of doubt that shatters the chance of a conviction, even when the evidence is clear that an assault has taken place.
Even with changes put in place over the years and since the publishing of this book, college campuses still pose immense danger when it comes to sexual assault. The psychological damage women walk away from these experiences with shape their lives and distort their world view, especially when so many instances of sexual assault involve a trusted friend or an acquaintance. In Missoula, Krakauer even shows us how a childhood friend who feels like a sibling can become an assailant—something that is often difficult for people to understand or believe.
The book doesn’t stop at providing examples and dismantling rape myths. It makes you endure the heartache of Cecelia Washburn’s trial. It lets the reader understand what a victim of rape must endure in the courtroom, and it highlights the flaws in our justice system.
Missoula accomplishes all it sets out to, and the addition of a personal explanation for what acted as the catalyst for writing the book simply hammers home the need for books like this. If more writers are willing to explore this subject and pull those that lurk in the shadows and perpetuate the problems in our justice system into the light, true change can take shape.