Erwin James: The Man Not The Murderer

In the past week I read two books by Guardian columnist cum prison diarist Erwin James. Through the books I saw the change in James as he matured and prepared for his life outside. He always appeared wise to prison life and the psychological behaviours of prisoners and was a strong advocate for men doing the time but not becoming a miscarriage of justice themselves, publicising any cruel knock-backs of friends who had become forgotten grey matter over the years.

The opportunity to write was a great one for James, it allowed him to become more perceptive of others and gave him a purpose in showing the many Guardian readers a world they would probably never see. His writing was honest, never biassed and humbling in allowing us into his thoughts and feelings of shame for his crimes (which he never told his audience... only that it all started when he was ten). He was open from the start, albeit careful to change names, places and time frames to protect other prisoners, and the ending was jubilant as he left the prison to continue the rest of his life as a free and redeemed man. That is how I felt about Erwin James, until my curiosity got the better of me and I typed his name into Google.

I was shocked to read that Erwin James (real name James Monahan) had gone to jail for the murders of two men with his accomplice William Ross. The two had spent time together boozing it up and boosting each others fractured confidence before stealing cars and robbing from houses. After meeting Greville Hallam in a Soho bar, where Ross and Monahan were trying to sell videos, the three of them went back to Hallam's house in Hampstead where Monahan got his victim in a headlock and strangled him. Hallam was found bound and naked and a television, stereo and video equipment had been stolen. Three months later Ross and Monahan dragged Angus Cochrane into the rose garden's of St. James's park. The two men kicked, punched and beat Cochrane with a brick before taking the little money he had in his wallet and left him to die.

It is hard not to change your opinion of a man you believe to have redeemed himself when you see the severity of his crimes. It was not mere opportunistic behaviour gone wrong. Both times the two men seemed to revel in their power over another person and enjoyed the cruel savagery they forced on their victims. It is hard not to see past this heinous crime when you read about it in the present, but it is important to remember it was over twenty years ago that this happened. That would never make what Ross and Monahan did forgiveable, but it gives us the chance to see how one man can improve himself in prison.

Some prisoners will refuse to take advantage of opportunities offered to them, but James Monahan was not one of them. Having spent his first year on 23 hour-a-day solitary lock up, Monahan realised he had a lot to improve about himself. He had huge issues with self-worth, could barely read or write and cared little about anything but his own survival. It was a meeting with a wing psychologist that made Monahan appreciate prison could be a new beginning. He spent six years reading Plato and Sophocles through the night and the writers made Monahan realise his own life could have been so different. Brought up in a "brutal and rootless environment" Monahan spent time between his family home and being in care. His Mother died when he was seven and his criminal life began at the age of ten. As a boy there was no one to offer support or guidance and from that Monahan created his own destructive path that led him to twenty years in jail and the blood of two men on his hands. After six years of reading the greats and coming to terms with his previous life, Monahan gained a degree from The Open University.

From then on Monahan was known around the prison wings as "the guy who could write a good letter" and he frequently helped out his fellow prisoners. In 1998 his first column appeared in The Guardian and continued up until his release in 2004. It was brave of Monahan to give Guardian readers an insight into his world, particularly when he had to read out the article down the phone in front of other prisoners and guards, while trying to protect his identity. Once he left prison Monahan continued to work for the charity he worked for while in the open prison, but also wrote for The Guardian. In 2009 someone found out who Monahan really was and spread it on the internet. Uproar ensued: a murderer? I was reading some facking murderer's words? What was that fackin' paper thinking?! etc.

It is the shock of the word: Murder.

It is something that is required inside that person for the deed to take place. Something that most of us don't have. Something evil and unknown. The Guardian were brave to choose Monahan, as I am sure they would know that deep down, one day, it would all come out. But is the crime the reason they chose him? Hell no. The Guardian saw something in Monahan that anyone who reads his books will see: his humanity. They chose him for the choices he made in prison; choices that allowed him to be rehabilitated and reformed into a well respected human being. James Monahan could have spent his time in prison battling authority and fighting other prisoners. He could have continued with a life of crime and violence. Instead he transformed over twenty years from an uncaring brute into a confident, eloquent and contrite man who has done his time. James Monahan's story is shocking, but we must remember that the end result gave the world a man, not a murderer.