Can Death be Courteous?

The Discourtesy of Death is an apt title for Father Anselm’s investigation into the death of dancer Jenny Henderson, paralyzed in a fall and suffering from terminal bowel cancer. The death certificate lists bowel cancer as the cause.

The Google definition of discourtesy is “rude and inconsiderate behavior”. Death is normally discourteous. Can death be courteous?

Within the book there are hard discussions between Anselm and Jenny’s family about her life and impending death.

Much of the conversation is about the value of her life as a paralyzed person and the suffering before death it was anticipated she would endure.

For several, including Jenny, it appeared life has meaning so long as a person is physically and mentally whole. A young woman in a wheelchair with terminal cancer does not fit that image.

Her mother, Emma, the veterinarian says:

‘Her life is over. What has she got to live for now? If she was an animal, I’d gently put her down. It would be the right thing to do.”

Her dancer friend, Vincent Cooper, makes an exit mask that can fit on her head to end her life at a time of her choice.

I thought of Louise Penny’s book, The Madness of Crowds, in which Abigail Robinson, a statistician, advocates for the state to kill those who are a burden upon society. She considers “mercy killing” of, in the words of one of my posts upon the book, “ailing aged or deformed unborn”, to be appropriate, even necessary.

Armand Gamache abhors her philosophy. In his personal life he loves and adores his granddaughter, Idola, who has Down Syndrome.

Later Jenny changes her mind. She tells Father Anselm in a powerful passage:

‘Now? she replied. ‘I want my life. I was ready to die before but now I want my life. I know that in one way it’s broken, disappointing, limited, worthless, empty and insignificant … but it’s mine. It’s all I’ve got. I’m still me. And I know it will soon become messy and painful and frightening, but I still want it. I want to live what I’ve got … do you understand? It’s as valuable to me now as it ever was. I’m still … full of something … and it can exhilarating, despairing, violent and peaceful - every state you can think of - and I just want to keep hold of it … for as long as possible.’

Jenny’s life is an illustration of  the principles of Viktor Frankl, the Viennese psychiatrist who was a Nazi concentration camp surivivor. I first learned of his philosophy 50 years ago in second year university in a class called The Philosophy of Religion.

Some years ago I read his great book, Man’s Search for Meaning which discusses what sustained those who survived the camps.

In my review of the book I said:

Frankl said it “does not matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us”. If suffering is your task in life it is necessary to face it with dignity. All life has meaning. He said those with religious faith understood their sacrifice.

I continued in my review:

A dying inmate cheerfully faced her death saying she was grateful that the brutal camp life had forced her spoiled pre-camp self to “take spiritual accomplishments seriously”.

Anselm, following the principles of Catholic faith, recognizes all lives as meaningful. 

Jenny’s husband Peter says:

… I wondered if you’d ever considered that certain … intricate situations … require neither mercy nor justice. Just a blind eye. Not because it’s expedient. But because neither mercy nor justice can reach the true depths of what actually happened. When all we can do is turn away and look in the other direction.’

Anselm replies:

‘And I’m inclined to think that turning away is the first step towards barbarism. Because it would be the ultimate concession that we cannot regulate human affairs.

….

‘Because the most intricate situation of them all is protecting the weak against the strong. We can’t give up on that one. It’s what makes us civilised.’

Anselm will not accept there can be mercy killing. 

Were all the family and friends around Jenny to have considered her life meaningful there would have been less drama to the plot but an affirmation of life for all.

I say death cannot be courteous.

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Brodrick, William - (2023) - The Discourtesy of Death