An east wind blowing through Mortimer Mansions
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Fact - there is no bigger Rumpole fan than me. So I have to report with considerable sadness that the latest Rumpole is IMHO the work of a tired and/or ill old man.
Agree with other reviewers who comment on the extremely large text, the only method of adding substance to an otherwise flimsy, lightweight novella - and I'm being kind here.
But it's not that which upsets me - it's the weakness of the plot, and the characterisation. Our favourite denizens of Equity Court appear - without development or follow-through - say little, and for little apparent reason, fall in lust with each other. The plot - such as it is - fizzles rather than sizzles. Such a shame. This bottle of Pommeroys Very Ordinary is well past its drink-by date, and is a pale, ghostly simulacrum of the noble vintage which has gone before.
Buy it - secondhand - because you can't not read a new Rumpole. But don't spend much and be prepared for disappointment. In the words of his beloved Keats - "...the sedge is wither'd from the lake. And no birds sing."
It really pains me to write this.
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Rumpole lives on
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I am a criminal lawyer and mourn the fact that we don't have many characters in the legal profession these days. Oh for a Horace Rumpole at my local Magistrates' Court rather than anxious young pin-stripes regurgitating their Sentencing Guidelines to a bored bunch of JP's. I've read all the Rumpole adventures and whilst there is often a convenient last-minute witness to save the day (it doesn't happen in real life!) I agree with another reviewer that Mortimer's writings often induce embarrassing snorts of laughter in the most public of places. I like the fact that Rumpole wrestles with modern day crime and sentences without compromising his principles. I was pleased he didn't take silk as he would have lost that charm of the oldest junior hack on the circuit. I've no idea how old Rumpole is but he must be in his eighties and yet he still scratches around chambers for a brief and preferably one which will allow him to show off his knowledge of blood stains. The story is largely predictable and a little short but great fun.
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"I'm afraid what we have here is a case of premature adjudication."
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The irascible Horace Rumpole is definitely not mellowing with age. Concerned with what he sees as a country-wide erosion of civil liberties, Rumpole is representing Peter Timson, a twelve-year-old member of the criminal clan of Timsons, which has provided Rumpole with a steady court income over the years. Peter has been served with an ASBO, an Anti-Social Behavior Order, because he has been playing ball in the street and has had to enter an exclusive neighborhood in order to retrieve his ball. If there is any repetition of this, he will go to court. As Rumpole is grumbling about the absurdity of this order, he is served with his own ASBO--secured by his fellow barristers and staff--because he eats lunch, drinks Chateau Thames Embankment, and smokes cigarillos in chambers, behavior the rest of the group abhors.
Rumpole's biggest legal commitment, at this point, is the case of Graham Wetherby, charged with the murder of a prostitute, a Russian immigrant, during his lunch hour. Wetherby, a mild young man with a severe birthmark on his face, has few friends and no girlfriends, and despite Rumpole's dedication to his case, Wetherby feels a bit cheated because Rumpole is not a QC, as are the attorneys who defend the worst criminals in the jail where he is being held.
The tongue-in-cheek humor, the ironies, and Rumpole's own sardonic wit and asides are delightful, and when Hilda (She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed) decides to become a barrister so that she can take over the kinds of cases that Rumpole will be too busy to accept, once he becomes a QC (a project she encourages), the hilarity continues. Hilda is the current muse of "Mad Bull" Bullingham, a judge with whom she plays cards but who has caused more problems for Rumpole than any other. Bullingham, however, adores Hilda, and agrees to sponsor Rumpole for his "silks." As the machinations involved in the process of becoming a QC play out, Rumpole tries to stay on the right side of the establishment and to keep up Wetherby's hopes that the QC title will arrive before his case comes to trial.
All the plots and subplots overlap, the continuing cast of characters continues to provide amusements. Their long-running history involving past cases keeps the reader constantly thinking of other wonderful Rumpole stories, and the reader's appreciation of author John Mortimer's cleverness in his plots and characterizations continues to grow. As always, the focus here is clearly on Rumpole--unregenerate, unapologetic, and unwilling to compromise. Mary Whipple
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White space and more white space.....
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John Mortimer's Rumpole books are never less than an enjoyable read, but this one is over so quickly you wonder it qualifies for full book status at all!
The 'plot' is pretty thin and, surprisingly for this fine writer, the evidence is inconsistent. On page 25 the key witness is quoted as saying she heard the 'young lady' (the murder victim) screaming. On page 174 we are helpfully 'reminded' of the evidence, but with the witness being quoted as saying it was the accused who called out.
Good fun, but not a patch on the earlier Rumpole stories.
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This book deserves an ASBO
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I agree completely with reviewers who have complained of the price of this very short novel. The price for a book of less than 200 pages OF VERY LARGE TYPE, is daylight robbery. I have been a Rumpole devotee for years - but to quote a previous reviewer - never again. Can't Mr. Mortimer find another vehicle for his political polemics??
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