A Prison Diary 2.

Fülszöveg

FRIDAY 24 AUGUST 2001
3.00 I'M
Aftertivo weeks of walking round the perimeter of Wayland
prison, I can now spot evil, fear, helplessness and sadness at
thirty paces. But even I am puzzled by a crouching man who
always sits alone in the same place every day, huddled up
against the fence. He can't be much more than thirty, perhaps
thirty-five, and he rarely moves from his solitary position.
I ask Darren about him.
Tragic/ he says. Alistairis one of your lot - public school,
followed by university, where he graduated as a heroin
addict. If he doesn't kick the habit, hell be in prison for the
rest of his life!
'How can that be possible?' I ask "
On 9 August 2001, twenty-two days after Jeffrey Archer
was sentenced to four years in prison for perjury, he was
transferred from HMP Belmarsh, a double-A Category
high-security prison in south London, to HMP Wayland, a
Category C establishment in Norfolk. He served sixty-seven
days in Wayland and during that time, as this... Tovább

Fülszöveg

FRIDAY 24 AUGUST 2001
3.00 I'M
Aftertivo weeks of walking round the perimeter of Wayland
prison, I can now spot evil, fear, helplessness and sadness at
thirty paces. But even I am puzzled by a crouching man who
always sits alone in the same place every day, huddled up
against the fence. He can't be much more than thirty, perhaps
thirty-five, and he rarely moves from his solitary position.
I ask Darren about him.
Tragic/ he says. Alistairis one of your lot - public school,
followed by university, where he graduated as a heroin
addict. If he doesn't kick the habit, hell be in prison for the
rest of his life!
'How can that be possible?' I ask "
On 9 August 2001, twenty-two days after Jeffrey Archer
was sentenced to four years in prison for perjury, he was
transferred from HMP Belmarsh, a double-A Category
high-security prison in south London, to HMP Wayland, a
Category C establishment in Norfolk. He served sixty-seven
days in Wayland and during that time, as this account
testifies, encountered not only the daily degradations of
a dangerously overstretched prison service, but the spirit
and courage of his fellow inmates
'Archer paints a bleak but true picture of life in prison . . .
it is vivid and disturbing, and will reach a vastly wider
audience than any academic treatise or political pamphlet
on the subject' Ann Widdecombe, New Statesman
'A monument to the stiff upper lip' Observer Vissza