From Publishers Weekly
Crafty counselor that she is, Abramson mentions in the first sentence of this outspoken, self-promoting memoir her greatest claim to fame: she was a defense attorney for one of the Menendez brothers. The shadow of that case stretches over Abramson's entire narrative, even over her childhood memories of growing up Jewish in 1950s Queens, N.Y.: "I can see now how children come to love their mothers automatically. It must take an almost unimaginable degree of pain to ever make a child not love a mother." The book opens with a case Abramson handled between the two Menendez trials. A bouncer emptied 15 rounds into three men, killing two; with Abramson's help, he walked. With this case, Abramson introduces the idea of preemptive self-defense, offering legal insights that are sharp and knowing. When she finally gets to the Menendez case, however, Abramson fails to address adequately several key questions: Why didn't the boys just leave? Why did Lyle finish off his mother with that second gruesome shotgun blast? Why was Abramson pulled from Lyle's defense for the second trial? A conversational style and colorful case histories provide some balance to Abramson's manipulative account of the trial-but not enough, particularly given the accompanying ax-grinding and score-settling. Menendez buffs will want to buy this, but most armchair lawyers will find more edifying fare in the books of Gerry Spence or, looking backward, of Louis Nizer. Photos. 150,000 first printing.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
In her trademark no-holds-barred style, defense attorney Abramson delivers a fascinating, blistering attack on her foes in and out of the courtroom, naming names and blasting the media. Her book covers her 27 years of practice and begins with her childhood in New York, the father who abandoned her, her training in the Los Angeles Public Defender's Office, and her success in high-profile criminal cases, most notably in the first trial of Erik and Lyle Menendez. Abramson provides a sympathetic insider's view of the defense of sordid crimes; her narrative is a pleasure to read but not for the squeamish. She also brushes aside charges of misconduct in the editing of a psychologist's notes in the Menendez case. For another view of one of her famous cases, involving a police office murdered in Chinatown, see Lawrence Taylor's The D.A. (LJ 7/15/96). For popular law collections.?Harry Charles, Attorney-at-Law, St. Louis, Mo.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.