Duncan's thesis on the attractions of prison is more psychologically grounded, however. People seek constraints and limits, just as they are imprisoned by societal standards and limits, or Foucault's notion of the Panopticon.
The criminal is also a kind of fantasy-child for society, according to Duncan. Like a child, a criminal dwells in a kind of in-between space, a place where anything is possible, and redemption is possible. The American gospel of self-reinvention, as seen in films like "The Shawshank Redemption," romanticizes prisons as places where people can radically rebuild their lives and characters. This explains why prisons like Alcatraz, rather than being hated or feared are actually viewed with affection. Convicts become romantic outlaws and pioneers in the imagination of the media, the crimes are forgotten when criminals are viewed through...
The prisons that confirmed their deviancy are similarly romanticized as the place where the criminals were reinvented or born. But to criminals themselves, prison is anything but a fantasy world, and this is why Duncan is so insistent that one must listen to the real words and experiences of those actually in prison, rather than people writing about prisoners who use prison as a metaphor rather than take account of its physical reality. Although, ironically, prisoners also 'buy into' the cultural, romantic fantasy out of desperation, Duncan notes (5). Foucault might be encompassed in this criticism, although Duncan uses a great deal of Foucault's analysis in her own work. It is not that prison seems comparatively good as suggested by Rusche and Kirchheimer but that society refuses to see what it truly is in the eyes of prisoners.
