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- <text id=93TT0892>
- <title>
- Jan. 11, 1993: Reviews:Books
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
- Jan. 11, 1993 Megacities
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- REVIEWS
- BOOKS, Page 51
- Burden of Turow
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>By JOHN SKOW
- </p>
- <qt>
- <l>TITLES: FAMILIAR LEGAL TERMS</l>
- <l>PUBLISHERS: Too Many of Them</l>
- <l>AUTHORS: Lawyers on Their Lunch Hours</l>
- </qt>
- <p> THE BOTTOM LINE: Is your mouthpiece taking notes to keep
- you out of jail or to put you in Chapter 6?
- </p>
- <p> All rise. Let it be stipulated that George V. Higgins
- (Defending Billy Ryan, Kennedy for the Defense) writes about
- rascally lawyers better than any other novelist now at large.
- </p>
- <p> Without objection, so entered. But the matter before the
- court is not the literary standing of the estimable Higgins. It
- is a spreading gray ooze of lesser lawyer novels with
- indistinguishable titles, written perhaps for love, perhaps for
- glory, but probably to capitalize on the dumbfounding popularity
- of lawyer novels by Scott Turow (The Burden of Proof, Presumed
- Innocent) and John Grisham (The Firm, The Pelican Brief).
- </p>
- <p> Why is jurisprudence suddenly the hot new pop read? The
- U.S. does have more lawyers, many no doubt under employed and
- hungry, than anyplace else in the universe. Probably, however,
- we have more accountants and termite exterminators as well, and
- they remain decently silent. Anyway, this year lawyers, next
- year civil engineers or professional bowlers. Or a heartwarming
- resurgence of doctor-nurse romances. In any case, the entire,
- ever wistful publishing industry now chases riches through
- barratry, the offense of excessive litigation. There is a
- cranked-out feel to most legal thrillers. Virtually all are
- blurbed as the work of the next Turow, which may not be an
- endorsement, since Turow's plodding prose can be a way not of
- passing time but doing it. Still, a few lawyer novels pass
- minimal standards as survival gear. For the next time you're
- sentenced to 7 to 10 years between planes at O'Hare, here's a
- sampling of legal thrillers:
- </p>
- <p> Mitigating Circumstances (Dutton; $20), by Nancy Taylor
- Rosenberg, needs some mitigating by an editor. Or maybe not; the
- prose is so purple it's golden. An aerobic love passage ends
- with the heroine, an assistant prosecutor named Lily Forrester,
- hyperventilating as follows: "Her body was screaming at her,
- begging her, demanding more. Perhaps she could actually feed
- this desire, this need." A lawyer's body wouldn't really carry
- on this way, would it?
- </p>
- <p> Forrester has other problems. A career thug attacks her
- and rapes her teenage daughter. Not very believably, she tracks
- him down and shoots him, bang-bang. Melodrama ripens as a
- shrewd cop attached to her department reports his progress in
- tracking down the killer, who of course is Lily herself. Will
- he turn her in? Not before he chews some scenery: "I am the law.
- Not the judges on their high benches too far from it to even
- smell it. I'm the one who gets shot at. The one who has to
- inhale the rotting flesh of the society we live in...There
- is a god, lady, and he lives down here in the gutter with the
- likes of me." Right, Officer.
- </p>
- <p> Regardless of locale, most lawyer novels are easterns, in
- which the court system is a semicorrupt mess but the heroic
- judge/prosecutor/defense attorney finds the loophole that
- achieves justice. This one is a horseless, string-'em-up western
- whose message is that black hats are felonizing homesteaders and
- courts are run by sociobabbling liberals. Come back, Shane.
- </p>
- <p> Death Penalty (HarperCollins; $20), by William J.
- Coughlin, is a wily, likable tale that goes a long way toward
- justifying the genre. Author Coughlin, a judge and former
- courtroom lawyer, gives us that always popular hero, the
- lone-wolf defense attorney with a drinking problem and an
- unbroken record of outsmarting prosecutors. Charley Sloan used
- to be rich, married, drunk and successful, the fastest legal gun
- in Detroit. Then, for awhile, he was just drunk. Now he goes to
- AA meetings, thirsts ruefully and scuffles to rebuild his
- practice. His clients are dodgy and unreliable, which is why
- they are clients. There's a rape victim who, alas, has a record
- of soliciting, a sodden legal colleague who needs help writing
- an appeal, and Dr. Death, an arrogant physician who assists
- suicides. The plots tangle believably to reveal Sloan's edgy,
- honorable character, and he's good company.
- </p>
- <p> Probable Cause (Simon & Schuster; $19), by Grif Stockley,
- is another good-guy defense attorney yarn, set in, of all
- places, Little Rock, Arkansas. (This is pre-Ascension Little
- Rock; there's not a word about Bill Clinton's cat.) Gideon Page
- is a likable lunkhead with a pretty teenage daughter who gives
- him fits and a social worker lady friend afflicted by perplexing
- bouts of chastity. He's a pretty good lawyer but a bad legal
- politician, and he's only a few dollars and a credit card away
- from bankruptcy. By midnovel his only solvent client is a
- brilliant but self-righteous black psychologist who's charged
- with murder because a young woman, his white girlfriend's
- mentally ill daughter, died during a mishandled electroshock
- treatment. Worse, the mother, a mercenary beauty, stands to
- inherit a big chunk of money left in trust to her dead daughter.
- The case has a bad smell to it, Page knows, partly because the
- interracial angle won't please a jury and partly because the
- psychologist may actually be stone-cold guilty. The working out
- of all this is a tough, gritty puzzle, but if author Stockley
- writes another Page whydunit (this is his second), the poor guy
- needs, oh, maybe a Harley chopper or an eight-blade jackknife
- for enhanced machismo. And please, let him find a new female
- main squeeze.
- </p>
- <p> Degree of Guilt (Knopf; $23), by Richard North Patterson,
- is slick, sexy and headed (it says here) for your mega-mall's
- multi-plex. This means it is overblown and underbelievable, but
- who cares? Chris Paget is a high-powered San Francisco lawyer
- with great suits and an important wristwatch. His client, Mary
- Carelli, the nation's most recognizable gorgeous TV journalist,
- is accused of shooting the country's most hairy-chested famous
- male novelist during an interview. She insists that Paget take
- her case. She is, you see, the mother of Paget's 15-year-old son
- Carlo. She and Paget were, years ago, hotshot young Washington
- lawyers on opposite sides of an influence-peddling case that
- brought down a sitting President. We believe this, don't we?
- </p>
- <p> That's the first 25 of 547 pages. For those not put off by
- the sudsy plotting and the PEOPLE magazine cast, the legal
- machinations are satisfactorily intricate. If the novelist tried
- to rape Carelli, as she insists, why does an apparently honest
- psychologist say the writer was impotent? And why did Carelli
- bring a pistol to the interview? There's a lot of grotesque sex
- (Disgusting! Tell us more!) unveiled in the courtroom. As is
- customary in lawyer novels, Paget has a pretty female assistant
- for love interest and a frigid witch of a female prosecutor to
- outwit. Microwave popcorn (Newman's Own, unflavored, add salt
- and real butter) is recommended with this one.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
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