In the wake of this tragedy, the community of the small, idyllic liberal arts college struggled to characterize the incident, which was even called "the events of October" in a campus memo. In this engaging and intimate examination of Maggie and Neenef's deaths, author and Kalamazoo College professor Gail Griffin attempts to answer the lingering question of "how could this happen?" to two seemingly normal students on such a close-knit campus. Griffin introduces readers to Maggie and Neenef--a bright and athletic local girl and the quiet Iraqi-American computer student--and retraces their relationship from multiple perspectives, including those of their friends, teachers, and classmates. She examines the tension that built between Maggie and Neenef as his demands for more of her time and emotional support grew, eventually leading to their breakup. After the deaths take place, Griffin presents multiple reactions, including those of Maggie's friends who were waiting for her to return from Neenef's room, the students who heard the shotgun blasts in the hallway of Neenef's dorm, the president who struggled to guide a grieving campus, and the facilities manager in charge of cleaning up the crime scene. Griffin also uses Maggie and Neenef's story to explore larger issues of intimate partner violence, gun accessibility, and depression and suicide on campus as she attempts to understand the lasting importance of their tragic deaths. Griffin's use of source material, including college documents, official police reports, Neenef's suicide note, and an instant message record between perpetrator and victim, puts a very real face on issues of violence against women. Readers interested in true crime, gender studies, and the culture of colleges and universities will appreciate "The Events of October."

    It has long been a taboo subject, with even the tabloid press shying away from publishing precise details of cannibal crimes. When Albert Fish kidnapped, killed, and consumed ten-year-old Grace Budd in New York in 1928, he went to great pains to assure her parents, in a letter he wrote six years later that brought about his arrest, that he had not sexually assaulted her. But at the time, the court portrayed Fish as a sexually motivated criminal rather than as a cannibal. Yet, sexual depravity and cannibalism are far from being mutually exclusive. Andrei Chikatilo, the Butcher of Rostov, is proof of that, having eaten parts of the sexual organs of some of his fifty-six victims. Tsutomu Miyazaki, the Japanese Dracula, murdered little girls, molested their corpses, and drank their blood. These and many other cases, including those of Jeffrey Dahmer, Edmund Kemper, Joachim Kroll (the Duisburg Man Eater), and Daniel Rakowitz—who murdered his roommate and made soup from her brains—are studied in chilling detail.