On death row

Interview, Jan, 1996 by Tim Robbins

TR: When was the last time you were personally reprimanded by a church superior?

SHP: I never have been.

TR: Never?

SHP: Well, there was this archbishop in New Orleans.

TR: I'll bet there were some cocktail parties you weren't invited to.

SHP. [laughs] The archbishop and I got into it here in New Orleans. He supported the death penalty and I wrote about him in my book, but he didn't reprimand me.

TR: I remember having a conversation with you where I was venting some of my anger and frustration at the nuns that used to hit us as children, and you talked at one point about what you called the "Angry Nun syndrome." Could you explain that a little more?

SHP: Well, I think celibacy is very tricky. You hear all these things about tunnels between convents and rectories, so that nuns and priests can have sex in secret. That's not what happens. What celibacy can do to you is shrivel you up inside. To me, the Angry Nun syndrome reveals itself in rules and notes put up around convents that read PUT YOUR DISHES HERE, or PUT YOUR LAUNDRY THERE. This fixation on neatness shows the rigidity that can creep in when vulnerability and openness to love dies. You get these people who can't bend or cry or get involved with others.

TR: Do you know of nuns who sneak off and have affairs?

SHP: The people I know who have had affairs have left the community. One of the things that came out of Vatican II was the question, "What's holding you?" As a result, there was greater freedom to leave religious life.

TR: What did you think of the movie we made of your book, Dead Man Walking?

SHP: You definitely caught the tensions and the spirit of the book. Human life is complex, and I think you've captured how a person could get sucked into working with death-row inmates. The movie also understands the suffering on the part of the victims' families and those of the death-row inmates. There is a scene in the movie between Matthew Poncelet [Sean Penn] and his folks, who have come to visit him before his execution. As his little brother walks back and forth across the floor, his shoes squeak. That moment really brought me back to things I remember. Families would fall into silence one minute, then the next they'd be joking and trying to make light talk as they're saying good-bye for the last time. I also think the film has captured the essence of the debate about the death penalty. Beyond the rhetoric of all the legislators who score their political points for being tough on crime, what it all boils down to is that a handful of people are hired to kill a guy in the middle of the night. This movie shows the process of execution, and I think you were smart to use [the example of] a lethal injection instead of the electric chair, because it raises the question, "Is there a humane way to kill a human being?" Execution is, by design, a secret ritual, and a movie like this can open a door and bring people inside.

TR: Did you have any misgivings about the film?

SHP: My worst fear was that if the movie had been made by someone I didn't trust, for sure they would've thrown in a romantic thing between me and a death-row inmate. Or maybe they'd stick in something sensational, like me slipping a cyanide pill into my bra and bringing it to the death house. But none of my worst fears happened. What's funny is that I didn't know who you were or what you looked like, so I rented Bull Durham. A good friend saw it with me and said, "That [baseball] pitcher with the garter belt is going to be the director of this film?"