The Crime of Sheila McGough

by Janet Malcolm

"No other writer tells better stories about the perpetual, the unwinnable, battle between narrative and truth." --The New York Times Book Review

The Crime of Sheila McGough is Janet Malcolm's brilliant exposé of miscarriage of justice in the case of Sheila McGough, a disbarred lawyer recently released from prison. McGough had served 2 1/2 years for collaborating with a client in his fraud, but insisted that she didn't commit any of the 14 felonies she was convicted.

An astonishingly persuasive condemnation of the cupidity of American law and its preference for convincing narrative rather than the truth, this is also a story with an unconventional heroine. McGough is a zealous defense lawyer duped by a white-collar con man; a woman who lives, at the age of 54, with her parents; a journalistic subject who frustrates her interviewer with her maddening literal-mindedness. Spirited, illuminating, delightfully detailed, The Crime of Sheila McGough is both a dazzling work of journalism and a searching meditation on character and the law.

Genres: True Crime, Nonfiction, Journalism, Law, Crime, Mystery Thriller, American

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1999

About the author

Janet Malcolm was a journalist, biographer, collagist, and staff writer at The New Yorker. She is the author of In the Freud Archives and The Crime of Sheila McGough , as well as biographies of Gertrude Stein, Sylvia Plath, and Anton Chekhov.

The Modern Library chose her controversial book The Journalist and the Murderer — with its infamous first line — as one of the 100 best non-fiction works of the 20th century.

Her most recent book is Forty-one False Starts .

Reviews

[Lobstergirl · Rating 5 out of 5]

The crime of Sheila McGough was being Sheila McGough: an astonishingly naive and pathologically idealistic rookie lawyer who had the misfortune to take on charming, relentless con man Bob Bailes as a client. McGough defended Bailes to the point of ridiculous self-destruction, and ended up being charged and found guilty of federal offenses related to Bailes's own fraudulent cons in northern Virginia. After serving time and being released from prison, she became convinced that the government had wrongly prosecuted her, and contacted Janet Malcolm to write about her story.

It's hard to be completely sympathetic to McGough, even though Malcolm convincingly argues that she was innocent. McGough was constantly getting in her own way, creating enemies, sabotaging her well-being. She would sometimes filibuster before judges, as they tried to get her to put a sock in it. Malcolm's analysis of trial law is on target: it's not about arriving at the truth, but about which side can shape the best narrative.

As usual Malcolm's journalism is impeccable. The portrait of McGough and her elderly parents that emerges is mundane and fascinating at the same time. Whether cooking a meal for Malcolm in the kitchen, or choosing a tote bag for her to take materials back to New York, the McGoughs get full literary treatment. Here's Malcolm as the McGoughs take her to a local breakfast establishment:

Not everyone's pulse quickens at the thought of a plate of scrambled eggs edged with strips of bacon and triangles of toast; there are those who can read the word "waffles" without a stab of delight. But those for whom the first meal of the day is imaginatively fused with the idea of promise and hope and things before they are spoiled will understand the réclame of the Western Sizzlin' restaurant on Lee Highway outside Alexandria. Here the art of the American breakfast is practiced with beautiful attentiveness and utter authority, and here no known American breakfast dish appears to have been overlooked. The first-time visitor can scarcely believe his eyes as he enters and sees the enormous horseshoe-shaped buffet on which every imaginable thing to eat in the morning is arrayed.

Here Malcolm visits the scene of an old con and finds the building blandly reconfigured:

I hurried out of the glaring sunlight into the air-conditioned coolness of the unattended lobby of 300, where Muzak played with a kind of satiric extra-chipperness, as if somehow sensing it had found its true audience: no one.

[Jessica · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't find the subject matter or main character particularly engaging, but Janet Malcolm could make a trip to the tag agency interesting to me. This is the story of defense attorney Sheila McGough, who in the 1980s gets so caught up in rabid defense of her con artist client that she ends up being implicated in one of his schemes, convicted of a felony, going to prison, and being disbarred. Malcolm finds McGough a compelling if offputting figure, but I never did. Sheila is dull and sounds like a person who in today's parlance would be described as "on the spectrum": doggedly miopic, strangely related socially, and devoted to her passion (her defense practice) in a way that's hard for most others to understand. She's more a pathetic and frustrating than sympathetic character, which is sort of the point of the book and that's a hard thing to pull off. Fortunately Malcolm is a fabulous writer, and the book isn't just about McGough but also her infinitely more colorful deceased con man client and the problematic relationship between truth, narrative, and the law. Really this book just made me want to read more Janet Malcolm. I think I'll go try to scrounge up some right now.

[Steve Kettmann · Rating 3 out of 5]

My San Francisco Chronicle review first published in 1999:

THE CRIME OF SHEILA McGOUGH By Janet Malcolm Alfred A. Knopf; 164 pages; $22
Not many contemporary novelists, let alone nonfiction writers, stamp their work as their own the way Janet Malcolm does, and her latest book is no exception. As always, her fans will be enraptured and the rest of us will be left shaking our heads in quiet amazement. Malcolm could squeeze out a couple of hundred pages on watching paint dry and no doubt make the account absorbing and rich in telling psychological detail. If nothing else, ``The Crime of Sheila McGough'' proves that. Malcolm has a profound ambivalence for her subject, and it shows. Sheila McGough emerges as a kind of hero, Malcolm keeps telling us, because she gave up everything, did jail time and was disbarred, all to help a resourceful con man named Bobby Bailes. Even when he's behind bars and McGough's on trial for having gotten sucked into his scams, she refuses to testify, since inevitably that would lead to more damning disclosures about Bailes. It's an intriguing tale, but it's one whose power to engage drains away, rather than intensifies, as Malcolm plugs away with her awesome gallery of reporter's tricks. This despite Malcolm's well-developed conceits, like the idea that con men are not failed businessmen, as many in the justice system imagine, but artists of a kind. ``That con artists are indeed artists rather than mere journeymen (like burglars) is demonstrated by their love of invention and dislike of repetition,'' Malcolm writes. ``An artist by definition is someone who refuses to repeat himself, and the con artist, accordingly, keeps introducing variations into his scam to prevent it from becoming a piece of stale and mechanical hackwork.'' The truth of this observation rings out sweetly and undeniably, like a hammer pinging as it makes clean contact. But Malcolm doesn't con herself. Much more interesting to her than the con man Bailes is the riddle of how a nice woman like McGough could let her life get so bollixed up. Malcolm dismisses the popular theory that McGough was romantically linked to Bailes, despite a secretary's testimony in court that he sent her flowers. ``Bailes was a sociopath,'` McGough's attorney tells Malcolm. ``But Sheila didn't have the ability to say, `Wait a minute, I'm doing a little bit too much for this character. Maybe I need to look out for Sheila McGough.' It's sad. There's a tragedy here. Obviously, it's still being played out today if she can't see that she did something wrong, that she took no action to protect herself.'' But this is what Malcolm finds so intriguing about McGough. She came to the law as a second career, and lacked experience when she represented Bailes. She tried to make up for it by adopting his interests, badgering various judges on his behalf and, more than anything, believing in him to the end as a wronged party. Only when he dies does she write to Malcolm and offer to tell her story. Malcolm's astonishing skill in making a point and making it well work against her. She gets across the riddle of how McGough could prattle on endlessly without any instinct for how narrative works, and she makes it clear that this quality of hers turned people against her. ``But Sheila, in any case, was not interested in telling a plausible and persuasive story,'' Malcolm writes. ``She was out for the bigger game of imparting a great number of wholly accurate and numbingly boring facts.'' Malcolm chastises herself for getting cross with McGough, often cutting her off and all but screaming at her to get to the point. The emotion of this self-chastisement is honest and even a little touching. But few would begrudge Malcolm her vexation, since most will share it -- and not want to spend too long mulling it over. Once again, Malcolm pries her way unforgettably into the human psyche, but you almost get the feeling that work on this book has given her a massive headache. Her abundant talent, her gift for portraiture (``In her representation of Bailes she was like a trailer jackknifed across a highway''), her moral imagination -- all of it seems to strain toward the open range of fresh material. That might mean new nonfiction subjects, or it might mean silencing her signature ambivalence long enough to write fiction. At one point Malcolm writes, ``The spell of any work of art can be shattered by the sound of the nasty little voice saying, `But this is ridiculous.' '' Quite so. Yet a writer as smart and unstoppable as Malcolm will keep plowing ahead, regardless of what any nasty little voices say. It will be fascinating to see where she winds up.

Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article...

[Ronan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was deeply frustrating, and if Malcolm’s goal was to exonerate McGough, she fell short for me. But! She is such an engaging, thoughtful writer that her take on Sheila is almost secondary to her broader observations on truth and the law. Her books feel like long conversations with a smart friend trying to work out a brain teaser.

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

Janet Malcolm's slim but dense volumes feel like continuing installments about one grand project, the elusive nature of truth in various fields where finding truth is the objective. With The Crime of Sheila McGough, one would assume that Malcolm would do to the field of law what she did so memorably to the fields of psychology, journalism, biography, and photography before it: dissect it one withering observation at a time, up-ending all your preconceptions and literally changing your outlook; I know I haven't approached a biography the same way since reading The Silent Woman.

Indeed, within 10 pages here she's already offered eminently highlighter-worthy riffs on the fruitless pursuit of truth in a courtroom ("The law's demand that witnesses speak 'nothing but the truth' is a demand no witness can fulfill, of course, even with God's help."), the artistry of con men, and that stalwart theme, the freighted journalist-subject relationship ("The journalistic subject is normally someone with a story to tell...with Sheila, the task...was to try to coax a story from the morass of her guileless and incontinent speech.")

The Crime of Sheila McGough, despite Malcolm writing in peak form, feels like a minor work. Her problem this time is that Sheila McGough is just not as compelling a central figure as Jeffrey Masson, Joe McGinniss, Jeffrey MacDonald, or the biographers of Sylvia Plath. Malcolm does her level best to persuade us that McGough is probably innocent of the crimes she was convicted for (her best defense is she's much too naive to have actually defrauded anyone), but her case doesn't seem to have much consequence for us; she's just a hapless lawyer with a weird fixation on a professional liar who got her tangled up in a legal mess. There's nothing we can really extrapolate from this other than Sheila McGough was poorly advised, to the extent she was advised at all.

[Hank Stuever · Rating 4 out of 5]

Next to "The Journalist and the Murderer," I think this is one of Janet Malcolm's finest works. An exasperating person wrapped up in an exasperating subject, rendered with beautiful precision.

[Tracey · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The law's demand that witnesses speak "nothing but the truth" is a demand no witness can fulfill, of course, even with God's help."

In 1996 Malcolm receives a letter from Shelia McGough, a lawyer who has been disbarred and claims the crime she was convicted of were bogus. That she was the victim of a campaign to oust her from the legal profession due to her zealous approach to representing her client. Malcolm is naturally intrigued and begins an investigation into not finding the truth per say, but understanding the people, the system and how the truth is derived in the legal system.

Malcolm examines how the law is not about the truth but whether the defense or prosecution can weave the better narrative. It is how the jury can be persuaded that the version of events presented is the correct one, which will lead to acquittal or conviction. Malcolm could become bogged down in arguing or defending but her gift, to me, is how she allows the characters to present the differing views.

Shelia McGough, is central and her actions, her determination to stay the course for her client are commendable but expose her weakness. For, Bob Bailes is the other main player in this book. The death of Bob Bailes is a double edged sword, for McGough was willing to pursue her own personal justice as client confidentiality was no longer relevant but Malcolm is not able to interview Bailes. It is the big 'what if' as what information would Malcolm have been able to illicit, what observations would she have made of his character? While Malcolm attempts to get a sense of the man by visiting locations she knew he frequented, it does not give her any insights.

McGough, on the other hand is a woman that could not be fictionally dreamt up. She is complex, linear, devoted, black and white and sheltered. I can understand Malcolm's frustration and admiration in interviewing and engaging with McGough. McGough's unwavering commitment and belief that Bailes was honest and deserving of her full support is hard to comprehend. Even when Malcolm presents to McGough example after example of Bailes indiscretions, she refuses to budge.

Malcolm stumbled onto and documented the beginnings of the movement in the US at the moment where distrust of the government and religion above law is prominent. At one stage McGough's mother laments "When you're just an older, middle-class taxpayer, forget it." and how "the Justice Department is an American KGB". Further in the book Malcolm interviews S. Strother Smith, a lawyer Bailes previously employed who refuses to use as social security number as a form of identification as it is against his religious beliefs. For in the Bible 'every time God blessed someone, He named him and every time He cursed someone, He numbered him."

Even as Malcolm unravels this tale for you, there are moments when her descriptive writing allows you to physically be in that place and time:
"Here things were allowed to turn up, to pile up, to be pressed into service, to not match, to not impress anyone. The conference table was an old rather beat up, glass top model, with an agreeable mess of papers and objects on it. There was a bookcase of lawbooks some with very old leather covers, a serviceable blue carpet; a TV set and a video camera' and orange crates filled with papers, pitched into a corner."

For a book under 200 pages, it is dense with characters, studies and ruminations on the legal system. It is maddening and engaging.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

A strange and interesting book. I read it because someone online said it was a good companion to the "Bad Art Friend" article recently in the NY Times Magazine.
It's the twisting tale of how Sheila McGough got involved with a serial con man as his lawyer and then due to a strange series of events ended up serving time in jail. Was it unjust that she was put in jail? Sure seems like it, but Malcolm is interested in more than just that. She wants to explore what every person involved in the incident was really thinking, their motivations, and the way the justice system focuses and refracts those intentions.
Some reviews I saw said the book is boring and I see how that could be your reaction. The scam (about strange, mythical "unregulated" insurance companies and 35 semi-related permutations as con artists try to out-twist each other in the search for easy money) is convoluted and confusing, and the long explanations from McGough of her thinking can be wearying. But I found the whole exploration really engaging and appreciated the way Malcolm explored her reactions to McGough and her other subjects.

[Alexandra · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hasta ahora mi libro menos favorito de Janet Malcolm. Igual, su talento siempre se hace notar, independientemente del tema que aborde.
Definitivamente el derecho no era la profesión ideal para Sheila. Espero que esté bien, donde sea que esté.

[Henry · Rating 4 out of 5]

very readable bc everything that Janet Malcolm writes is, but a minor work. or is it? maybe i am just starved of the narrative closure that malcolm herself often tells the reader she is seeking but eventually admits is unlikely to arrive.

[Nora · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 // Not nearly as compelling as The Journalist and the Murderer. The subject, Sheila McGough, wasn’t too likable—none of the interviewees really were.

[Portia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very maddening! The protagonist is so unlikable. Then I realized the issue: Is she actually breaking the law? Can we put somebody behind bars because she is so unlikable?

[Peter Raffel · Rating 4 out of 5]

nothing funnier than janet malcolm getting actively irritated and bored while interviewing someone

[Cjkemp · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect

Janet Malcolm is the master. Every sentence has to be savored. So glad I read it. Four more words required.

[Tyler J Hinds · Rating 3 out of 5]

5.2

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read like an extended longform article. Great insight into trials and trial strategy, interesting cast of characters, self-reflective writing.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Janet Malcolm is a Didion-esque journalist of the first order; her dropping the pretext of objectivity and inserting herself into the narrative gives her story of a too-literal lawyer the sheen of greater objectivity than would be gotten from a conventional piece of reportage. Altogether a fine book, well-written and disruptive, in its non-linear way. One comes away feeling as though Malcolm has conveyed something closer to the truth than the courtroom fictions of her protagonists -- including the putative heroine, who turns out to be rather unattractive, if not a bore. It would make a bracing read whilst sitting in a jury assembly room waiting to be called. Justice is what it is, a fiction.

[Joseph · Rating 4 out of 5]

Janet Malcolm writes about a woman who was convicted of fraud though apparently innocent, and Malcolm tracks down and talks to every person connected to the original crimes and trial. But if you know Janet Malcolm's work, you'll know that this isn't a thrilling tale that rips down the facade of our justice system. It's Malcolm's beautifully-written investigation into the difference between truth and stories, between facts and the truth, between those who lie for profit and those who tell the truth to be punished. Honestly, if Malcolm were not such an incredibly talented writer, the stories of McGough and her prosecutors (or persecutors) would not have held my interest. But Malcolm's eye finds the deeply revealing detail in the most mundane of events.

[Zach · Rating 2 out of 5]

There's an interesting story buried in here, but Janet Malcolm does her self-aggrandizing best to get in the way of it. In the process she ends up making herself look like kind of a fool and accomplishes something other than what she thinks she's accomplishing. The book ends up working as a meta-narrative about obnoxious, shallow journalists and their subjects.

Recommended for lawyers, law students, and people who want to have a laugh at the expense of a narcissist author; not for anyone else.

[Darcy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting book. I don't think that Sheila was cut out to be an attorney. She really needed a better perspective on her clients. And maybe a life outside of her profession.
I found Janet Malcolm's writing easy to read, and her thoughts on Sheila were interesting. My favorite quote from the book is at the end when she says " I have mastered the incoherent and senseless story of her ruin." As an author she was able to wade through all the muck, and emerge with a coherent account of what happened.

[Sue · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sheila McGough was apparently a lawyer who was so principled that she didn't know when to quit. She angered enough other lawyers & judges that she ended up going to prison. Janet Malcolm (of New Yorker fame) decided to investigate the case. I read about half the book & got the idea.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incomparable. Not trial lawyer should neglect to read this book about how cases are about narratives, not facts.

[Cathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty interesting -- a great read for anyone considering a career in the law!

[Patricia L. · Rating 4 out of 5]

A silly little book but Janet Malcolm could write the telephone book and I'd love it.

[Diana]

was a bit disapointed in this, not her usual depth