Fifty years ago, the Manson Family murders sent shockwaves through Hollywood and beyond, marking a dark end to the idealistic visions of the 1960s. From the ashes of this era emerged the enduring mythology of the “Manson girls,” a term that, even today, reduces a group of complex individuals to mere extensions of Charles Manson himself.
These women, often referred to as “girls” regardless of their age, were followers of Charles Manson, living under his sway on a secluded ranch. It was at his command that they perpetrated brutal and bloody murders, acts that cemented their place in the ongoing cultural fascination with Manson.
Charles Manson, in many ways, was an unremarkable figure. A failed musician of middling talent, he cobbled together a cult using borrowed Scientology principles and a bizarre doctrine of racial apocalypse. Yet, it was the presence of the “Manson girls” that elevated him to a figure of morbid fascination. Initial news coverage of the Manson trial in the early 1970s sensationalized the “Manson girls,” often portraying them as nameless, interchangeable objects of Manson’s supposed charisma. These narratives suggested that Manson possessed an almost supernatural power, capable of bending these beautiful, obedient hippie girls to his will. They were depicted as devoid of individual agency, ready to fulfill Manson’s every whim. This sensationalized depiction, incredibly, has persisted for decades.
Even in contemporary fiction, like Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 novel Inherent Vice, the “Manson girls” are portrayed as “submissive, brainwashed, horny little teeners,” anticipating and fulfilling desires without a word being spoken.
In popular culture, the Manson girls have become synonymous with Manson’s mystique, seen as accessories that amplify his unnerving charisma. Their individual identities were erased, their significance solely derived from their role in illustrating Manson’s power.
However, in recent years, a crucial shift has begun. Our culture is starting to move beyond this simplistic narrative, initiating a conversation about the individual women behind the label “Manson girls.” We are beginning to explore who they were as human beings, and what has become of them. This re-evaluation is part of a broader cultural movement to reassess women’s legacies, though it is still in its nascent stages.
The Manson Girls and the Construction of a Myth in 1969
Manson Family Murder SuspectsAccused Manson Family members Susan Atkins, Leslie Van Houten, and Patricia Krenwinkel being escorted into court for the 1970 trial related to the infamous Manson Family murders.
The world was introduced to the “Manson girls” during the 1970 trial of Charles Manson and three of his female followers for the horrific 1969 murders of eight individuals, including the pregnant actress Sharon Tate. Tate’s fame alone would have drawn significant media attention, but the case became a full-blown media frenzy due to the sheer brutality and seemingly senseless nature of the killings.
Manson had no personal connection to his victims; they were chosen partly to obscure other crimes and partly to instigate a race war he called “Helter Skelter.” The victims were subjected to multiple stabbings, and the chilling detail of the word “pig” scrawled in Tate’s blood on the wall became instantly infamous.
Compounding the media’s fascination was the fact that Manson himself did not commit the murders. He orchestrated them, directing his followers to carry out the gruesome acts. And significantly, several of these followers were young women.
This is where the narrative of the “Manson girls” truly took hold in the public imagination.
The three women on trial alongside Manson – Susan Atkins, Leslie Van Houten, and Patricia Krenwinkel – became central figures in this unfolding drama. As reported by the Associated Press, they arrived at court in “prison uniforms with ribbons in their long hair.” Their act of shaving their heads in solidarity with Manson during the trial, and their unsettling laughter as they entered the courtroom for sentencing, became iconic and disturbing images that captivated the nation.
The stark contrast between their youth and perceived femininity and the monstrous nature of their crimes became a national obsession. One article published at the trial’s outset, under the sensational headline “Hippie Girl to Tell All in Tate Murder,” announced, “The second witness is scheduled to be a soft-spoken, angelic-looking young woman who is accused of being a participant in at least eight brutal and senseless killings.”
Adding to this complex tableau were the women who testified against Manson: Linda Kasabian and Dianne Lake. Reporters described Lake as “the petite auburn‐haired witness” and Kasabian as a “petite blonde,” highlighting Kasabian’s “candid admission of extensive drug taking, stealing money and extramarital relationships with numerous men, including the 35-year-old Manson.”
Finally, there were the ever-present “Manson girls” who maintained a vigil outside the courthouse, described by the AP as “a band of loyal Manson clan women maintained a vigil in the street outside the Hall of Justice, waiting for their ‘father’ to be freed from ‘the tower.’” These women, too, mirrored Manson’s shaved head in a display of unwavering devotion.
As the Charles Manson narrative solidified, the notion of his sinister, almost supernatural influence over these young women became a cornerstone of his myth. The sensationalized idea of life on the Manson ranch as a continuous orgy further fueled public fascination. An anonymous prosecutor in a 1970 Rolling Stone article recounted a divorced biker who frequented the ranch, stating the girls would care for his child and provide “free pussy.”
“He used to admit it,” the prosecutor elaborated. “He’d say, this is the greatest thing next to mother’s milk. They’d bring you food, make love to you any time you could.”
Manson’s record producer, Phil Kaufman, in the same Rolling Stone piece, described Manson’s recruitment method: “There were about 12 girls. Every time Charlie saw a girl he liked, he’d tell someone, ‘Get that girl.’ And when they brought her back, Charlie would take her out in the woods and talk to her for an hour or two. And she would never leave.”
The mythology surrounding the Manson girls tapped into the zeitgeist of 1969: the gruesome murder of a celebrity, seemingly innocent young female perpetrators, the perceived excesses of the counterculture, and a tantalizing hint of free love gone awry. It was a narrative ripe for sensationalism.
The Victim Narrative Emerges: Yet the Manson Mythology Persists
Scene From ‘Helter Skelter’A scene from the 1976 TV movie ‘Helter Skelter,’ depicting actors portraying Charles Manson and his followers, contributing to the enduring cultural image of the Manson Family.
Over time, a more nuanced understanding of the “Manson girls” began to emerge. They were not simply remorseless killers blindly devoted to Manson; they were also victims themselves. This perspective, however, also became integrated into the broader Manson mythology.
Vincent Bugliosi, the lead prosecutor in the Manson case, solidified this narrative with his bestselling true crime book, Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders. This book became the definitive account of the Manson Family, shaping public perception for decades. Bugliosi detailed how Manson essentially pimped out the girls to the ranch owner to pay rent and recounted the disturbing anecdote of Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme’s nickname originating from the ranch owner pinching her thigh.
Helter Skelter painted a picture of life on the ranch not as consensual free love, but as a system of coerced sexual exploitation orchestrated by Manson. He had, according to this narrative, brainwashed the women into complete submission.
While Bugliosi’s account has since been critiqued for inaccuracies and omissions, his portrayal of the Manson girls as submissive, manipulated figures became the dominant cultural understanding.
As The New Republic noted in a 1975 review of Helter Skelter, “Manson had an old con’s skill … at picking the members of his band. The girls were young, homeless, fanciful, at war with their parents — the boys were kept in line by being given the girls.” However, this victim narrative paradoxically amplified Manson’s mystique, framing his influence not merely as abuse, but as something almost supernatural. The review continued, “There was something else in Manson that could turn them [the Manson girls] from borderline psychotics into psychopathic killers of unparalleled cruelty. I don’t think there’s any possible doubt that Manson was a demon — not possessed by one, was one.”
Even with this shift towards acknowledging the women as victims, the focus remained on Manson’s power. The “Manson girls,” even as victims of brainwashing, remained primarily props in the ongoing drama of Charles Manson, serving to further illustrate his supposed demonic influence. The individual humanity of these women remained largely unexplored.
The Counter-Narrative: Reclaiming the Stories of the Manson Women
Sheron Lawin (L), a member of the Board of Prison
Leslie Van Houten attending a parole hearing in 2002. Despite demonstrating rehabilitation and receiving recommendations for parole, her requests were repeatedly denied.
Of the three “Manson girls” convicted of murder, Leslie Van Houten and Patricia Krenwinkel remain incarcerated today; Susan Atkins died in prison in 2009. Throughout their sentences, Van Houten and Krenwinkel have repeatedly been denied parole, despite demonstrating significant rehabilitation.
In 1972, Atkins, Van Houten, and Krenwinkel participated in a unique program run by radical feminist criminologist Karlene Faith at the Santa Cruz Women’s Prison Project. As detailed in Jeffrey Melnick’s book, Creepy Crawling: Charles Manson and the Many Lives of America’s Most Infamous Family, Faith and her feminist collective dedicated themselves to the rehabilitation of these women. Melnick writes that they “treated the women of the Manson family like active subjects — as people who could liberate themselves.”
Faith and her colleagues implemented a “consciousness-raising” program rooted in feminist principles, educating the women on law, gender studies, ethnic studies, psychology, as well as poetry, music, and politics.
Atkins, Van Houten, and Krenwinkel reportedly responded positively to the program, becoming exemplary inmates. They pursued advanced degrees, received commendations for assisting fellow prisoners, and earned strong endorsements from prison staff during parole hearings. Leslie Van Houten, in particular, has been recommended for parole multiple times since 2016, only to be repeatedly overruled by California’s governors. Patricia Krenwinkel is now California’s longest-serving female inmate.
Other women associated with the Manson Family, who were not imprisoned for murder, have also begun to speak out, reclaiming their narratives and emphasizing their own experiences of manipulation and abuse. Dianne Lake, who joined Manson’s group at just 14 years old, has publicly shared her story of sexual assault by Manson. “I feel very strongly,” she stated in a 2019 interview with ABC, “that it’s only by the grace of God that I was protected throughout this, and I was a victim. You know, I was abused, I was neglected, I was abandoned. … I hope that my story will help tell a cautionary tale.”
As these women assert their identities as individuals and victims, rather than simply “Manson girls,” popular culture is starting to take notice. Emma Cline’s acclaimed 2016 novel, The Girls, explored a Manson-like cult, but centered the narrative on the experiences of the young women within the group, marginalizing the Manson figure. Mary Harron’s 2019 film Charlie Says focuses on the rehabilitation of Atkins, Van Houten, and Krenwinkel in prison, highlighting their individual journeys.
However, these counter-narratives remain just that – alternative perspectives challenging the dominant and deeply ingrained mythology of the Manson Family. Films like Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood perpetuate the older trope of the “sexy murderous hippies called the Manson girls,” echoing Pynchon’s description of “submissive, brainwashed, horny little teeners.”
This pushback and re-examination of the Manson girls’ stories is part of a larger cultural reckoning, gaining momentum with the #MeToo movement in 2017. We are beginning to re-evaluate the legacies of women previously dismissed and ridiculed – figures like Lorena Bobbitt and Monica Lewinsky. We are starting to ask if these women were deeply wronged by both societal structures and the narratives constructed around them, and whether their individual stories deserve a more thoughtful and compassionate consideration.
But this cultural shift is just beginning. The enduring, almost iconic trope of the “Manson girls” demonstrates that there is still a considerable distance to travel before these new narratives fully replace the old, deeply entrenched myths.
