Touched By a Book

This is not the first nor will it be the last time that I write about how a book I've read has affected me. One of the last was A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints by Dito Montiel. Before That I wrote about how Hells Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga by Hunter S. Thompson affected me, I think more how aspects of his writing had made me think because I know I have referenced the Wave Speech from F&L in Las Vegas.

The new book, the new story, is that of one police officer Mr. Frank Serpico. At this time his name is mostly tied to the film where Al Pacino did a fantastic job of dealing with the stress and difficulties that the real man had to deal with only a few years prior. I watched the movie and fell in love. While reading the book, some things were pulled straight from it, and the tapes that the real Serpico made during these trying times, so it was easy to transpose the film into the book. They were one in the same, but they are also wholly separate entities. The book, like any book, was able to cover more details about what Serpico had to deal with and more instances of his altruism were shared with the audience. There were more chances to see how and why he'd become disenfranchised with his job. Reading about is temper, I could only think of Pacino blowing up and just how well the actor fit the part.

There are a few things the book made me consider. First it made me consider what makes a truly good person. I like to think I'm alright, but I have severe doubts that I could do anything that Serpico did. I'd probably turn a blind eye to the corruption in the precincts. I'd probably accept my share; maybe use it, maybe save it up. I'm not sure, but I couldn't deal with the pressure he lived it, and I don't think I could deal with it for as long as he did. He had conviction that what he was doing was right, that it made a difference. It did. More than thirty years after the fact it brought to light what was going on inside precincts and just how corrupt the system is. Every yea we hear about some short comings, but they're never as extensive as what Frank Serpico's story shared with readers and viewers. They're also not as gripping, they weren't as ground breaking. It's interesting to think about just how different things are; it's also a little bit disgusting to see what was going on inside the heads of these people. The police officers, not the people they were booking. How the officers thought, that black people cried rape after it was wanted, shaking down people because of their race. The racism, it's painful to read. I know it still exists, but sometimes I like to stay in my little bubble where those things don't happen, where people look past the color of one's skin and onto the more important parts about them.

Reading the book I wanted to see again just what Frank Serpico had to deal with. His own moralistic hell. People not helping him because he was classified as a hippie. I know people brake off into groups based on their appearance, but it's still a bit bothersome. How many times he was shot at or harassed because he actually looked like he didn't belong to the NYPD, the point since he was undercover. He had to not look like a cop to be a cop. The separation between him and the other officer was insane. I'd say unreal, but it was real. We have the news papers to tell us the truth of what happened, the reporting. A lot of it's there, just waiting to be read.

Something this book did for me was make me consider about my few interactions with people of the Badge or Shield. I have apprehension every time I see a cop that I'm going to get pulled over for something, that I'm doing something wrong. I could be walking down the street to class and I wonder about a cop stopping to ask me a question. I worry about being pulled over again. After first being pulled over last year, that's what I think of. I know he's doing his job, but I was fucking terrified. I then think of when I was out in Wisconsin and I needed some stamps that some officers in the blue and white about to go and police something helped me. I asked them where I could find some stamps, they gave me a name and general direction and I found a grocery store. Something little that helped me out.

That little instance of the cops in Wisconsin helping me makes me think simple of Serpico, or a bit of the other way around. I needed help, sought it in the police, and things were fine. They didn't talk down t me; they expressed confusion, but were willing to help me on my quest for stamps. That makes me think I should be a little less apprehensive the next time I'm outside leaning against my car for a smoke. What I'm saying is that the story of Frank Serpico reminds me that cops are good. They can be trusted, and they accomplish more than pulling people over and arresting criminals. That's important, but giving the public a sense of safety ad well being by helping them on their way can be just as useful It improves the public image, and possible starts competition between the officers to perform more little good deeds.

This story kind of makes me want to try harder as a human to help my fellow person. Should I be able to help someone with a quick phone call-that would be fantastic.

Jasmine P.