Customer Reviews

Reversible Errors

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4 star:		(36)
3 star:		(21)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(11)

 

 

This is Turow's best novel. Turow has taken a genre format, the legal thriller, and attempted to produce a broader psychological novel using the conventions of the genre. The central plot element is the effort of a lawyer to free a semi-retarded prisoner from Death Row. Set in Turow's fictional world of Kindle County, a fictionalized version of Chicago, the book recounts the efforts of the defense counsel, Arthur Raven, to free his client, and the equivalent efforts of the prosecuting team to sustain the conviction. Wrapped around this armature are the primary themes of the book, regret for past choices and failures, and efforts to correct past errors. All the major characters in this book are in some way haunted by prior choices in life. In the course of the story, all of them have some opportunity to revisit and rectify those errors. Some of these errors are crimes, some are ethical lapses, some are professional misconduct, some merely personal failings, and some varying combinations of all these.

Turow is a good writer. His characterizations are excellent and he has a real talent for writing dialogue. The plot of Reversible Errors is constructed well, perhaps a bit too cleverly. His primary protagonist, Arthur Raven, is an extremely sympathetic character; a bit of an everyman who succeeds on the basis of diligence and decency rather than talent.

This is an ambitious book and Turow largely succeeds in his aim of exploring regret and the consequences of unfortunate choices in life. Some parts of the book are affecting. This is probably the first of Turow's books that deserves to be classified with other works that surpass their genre such as the better novels of PD James or John Le Carre.

With his usual flair, Turow tackles the eternally thorny question of the death penalty. One thing I love about Turow is that his novels are always caught in the midst of a larger perspective, and in this case, it's centers on questions of morality, justice, and revenge. The great thing is that this book creatively considers the subject of "reversible error," that is, when the system screws up, how does (or can it) correct itself.

Problem is, it usually doesn't, and that goes especially for cases involving the poor or retarded. If you're not a regular reader of Turow, don't fret; you can read this one as a first book if you want, since the story is intact inside this novel. What you'll find is Turow's knack for creating very vivid characters. For example, there's the tough, smart detective named Larry Staczek and an ambitious (is there any other kind?) young prosecutor Muriel Wynn who work together to get a confession and conviction of the mentally retarded thief (Rommy Gandolf) of a particularly vicious murder at a diner. But just 33 days away from his execution, Gandolf is insisting that he did not commit the murders.

Turow manages to capture the spectrum of damaged souls that inhabit the legal system, as well as interdepartmental rivalries that exist in every organization, but more so in bureaucratic ones: the angry, underappreciated cops on the front lines, the ambitious and politicized prosecutors, the important DNA and ballistics technicians, the remote and egomaniacal judges, and dragged along by the unspoken undertow of race. What we find is that mistakes are sometimes made, and when they are by the legal system, it often ruins not just one, but multiple lives. I think this is one of Turow's best, so of course I heartily recommend it.

Scott Turow's first novel, PRESUMED INNOCENT, was a blockbuster success and while his subsequent novels haven't met with the same critical success, they have been bestsellers. With REVERSIBLE ERRORS, Turow has reclaimed some of the storytelling brio found in PRESUMED INNOCENT. Unlike Grisham, Turow provides a reader with the inner workings of the law, an often bleak view of our ultimate system of judgement. Turow, who has actually practiced law from both sides of the advocate system, knows it intimately and writes about it with passion. With that, he has given the reader one of his best with REVERSIBLE ERRORS.

REVERSIBLE ERRORS begins with about 50 to 75 pages of elaborate Michener-esque scene-setting, a writing tactic that will eliminate a few readers before the story begins. However, once Turow lays the groundwork and character definitions, the plot is moving and exciting. (NOTE: I strongly urge readers to "muddle" through this background overview...you'll not be disappointed.)

The protagonist in REVERSIBLE ERRORS is attorney Arthur Raven. After working for several years as a deputy prosecuting attorney, he joined a prominent firm and has ascended to the partnership level concentrating his practice in corporate civil litigation. Turow describes Arthur as late-30's, divorced, inept with women, prematurely middle-aged, but devoted to the law with ardent passion. Arthur's idealism is severely tested when he is appointed the pro bono case of Rommy "Squirrel" Gandolph. Rommy, truly nothing more than a petty thief, was implicated and convicted a decade ago in a bloody triple murder, a murder to which he ostensibly confessed. Now Rommy is on death row awaiting imminent execution. Arthur's appointment comes as Rommy, with his last appeal gone, is repudiating his confession and insisting on his innocence. Since the appeal process only allows points of law to be the subject of review, Arthur's only hope is to find "reversible error" in Rommy's trial and conviction. Turow defines reversible error for the reader as "error sufficiently egregious as to render capital punishment unjust and excessive."

Arthur knows the battle is virtually impossible until another prisoner, Erno Erdai, writes a letter to the judge who presided over Rommy's original trial. The judge, Gillian Sullivan, has just been released from a federal prison for women after being convicted of 'selling judgement.' After Arthur reluctantly agrees to interview Erdai (with the help of former Judge Sullivan), he realizes that, in fact, Rommy may be innocent.

The plot and climax of the book are solid and exciting. There is plenty of diverting suspense providing several tense and somewhat anxious moments. With REVERSIBLE ERRORS, Turow proves his understanding of the proper weave of legal jargon and tactics into "lay" jargon. With the exception of the opening descriptive "essay," REVERSIBLE ERRORS is a thoroughly enjoyable read.

Rommy Gandolph is on death row for the murder of three people in a diner when corporate lawyer Arthur Raven is assigned by the court to represent him in his final appeal before execution. Raven resentfully goes through the motions of representation until he receives word that another inmate, now dying from cancer, may have new evidence. Raven takes up the crusade of proving that Gandolph, a small time drug user and thief with a low IQ. was framed for the triple murder that put him on death row.

As the title suggests, the book follows both the errors made when Gandolph was convicted in 1991 and the discovery of new evidence and witnesses. But the story is not really about Gandolph, but about the three of the people who were central to the original story and current defense attorney Raven.

Raven works with the judge at Gandolph's original trial, Gillian Sullivan, in getting the new evidence. Sullivan, recently released from prison for taking bribes and a recovering drug addict is drawn to Raven, a hard working attorney who is unable to sustain personal relationships. The unlikely couple, a beautiful ex judge in her late 40s and an awkward driven attorney in his 30s, develop an unusual kinship. This is one of the two key relationships at the core of this story. The other relationship is that between the prosecuting attorney of Gandolph's case, Muriel Wynn, and Larry Starczek the original detective on the case. Wynn is now married to a wealthy but aloof businessman and running for DA and is put into contact with Starczek with whom she had a long term affair at the time of the Gandolph trial. Both question what happened over the years and whether they made the right choices. Wynn and Starczek have different motives for ensuring that Gandolph is executed for the murders.

The first third of this book alternates between flashbacks to the original events in 1991 to reveal what happened at the arrest and trial and 2001 when the new evidence is presented. This part of the book is somewhat tedious but the pace picks up nicely in the rest of the book. The relationship between Raven and Sullivan becomes central to the story and is as much a part of the redemption theme as is the work to free Gandolph. The final resolution of the story tests that relationship as well as Raven's core beliefs in the legal system.

Be aware that this is not a traditional legal thriller due to the key focus on relationships but it is still a very satisfying story.

In the first chapter of Scott Turow's REVERSIBLE ERRORS, the reader meets Arthur Raven, a typically (for the genre) jaded lawyer assigned to a pro bono capital case. The reader knows at once that Raven will find the spark in this case that forces him to look differently not only at the legal system but at life in general. That's the genre, and that's where Turow leaves predictability behind. Told in vivid scenes from both the past during the original investigation of the brutal triple murder and from the present when the man convicted of committing the crime makes his final legal appeal with the assistance of Raven and his young assistant, Turow takes the reader on an extraordinary and breathtaking ride. The characters and the issues they face are deftly drawn, with ethical and personal ambiguities intact. Well-written and expertly told, this novel shows Turow at his absolute best.

This was a novel I couldn't put down and yet didn't want to finish. I adored the storytelling method of leaping back and forth through time and from character to character. The technique gives REVERSIBLE ERRORS a richness rarely encountered in legal thrillers.

Read this book. You won't regret it. REVERSIBLE ERRORS satisfies from start to finish.

"Reversible Errors," by Scott Turow is a legal thriller concerning a case that begins as a half-hearted pro bono appeal on behalf of a death row innmate. However, the case picks up steam as inconsistencies in the facts emerge. The protagonists include the semi-retarded inmate, his middle-aged sad sack of a defense lawyer, an ex-con judge trying to rebuild her life, the original detective on the case, the Assistant DA who was once the detective's lover, and a dying convict who confesses to the crime to clear his conscience. Turow throws in plot twists aplenty, and what looks at first like a straightforward legal whodunit becomes a convoluted tale of family loyalty, love, and regret. Yes, the legal workings are there, but the interest is as much in the characters as in the justice system in which they're entangled.

Turow's strength as a writer lies in the complexity of his characters. They're not just cardboard figures to be manipulated at the author's whim. Turow gives them a psychological reality that extends beyond the roles they play in the story. The main thrust of the plot is on the legal efforts to save an unjustly convicted man from the death penalty, but, by the end, the fate of the individual characters is almost as important. We care about what happens to them and why they do what they do. In this way, Turow--himself a lawyer involved in death penalty cases--makes it clear that our legal system is made up with individuals, each of whom bring their personal baggage to their cases. Justice may be blind, but as Turow demonstrates in this novel, it's carried out through the efforts of highly flawed individuals.

Legal thrillers are popular these days. Turow's books stand head and shoulders above the rest. "Reversible Errors" is a complex, satisfying, and ultimately thoughtful read. Its characters and their fates will linger in your mind long after the book is finished.

In his best work since "Presumed Innocence", Scott Turow weaves a masterpiece of interpersonal relationships and legal suspense in "Reversible Errors". At his best, Turow's legal prose is much more powerful and thoughtful than the more popular John Grisham, and this is an example of the master at the top of his game. The main story line is familiar enough: a condemned man about to be executed for a decade-old triple murder has one last shot at reprieve. But while the tale may be common, the characters are not: deeply developed, multi-faceted, and flawed, absent both super-heroes and arch-villains. The main characters include Arthur Raven, the socially dysfunctional court-appointed defense attorney, and Gillian Sullivan, the judge who presided over the original trial, now an ex-con and ex-junkie. They are joined by the upwardly mobile prosecuting attorney Muriel Wynn, and her once and future affair-mate, Larry Starczek, the detective who gathered the evidence in the murder case of death-row resident Rommy Gandolph, who awaits imminent execution. As the appeal winds through a series of triumphs and disappointments for both sides, the reader is drawn more deeply into the complex characters and the relationships between them. He adroitly interweaves story lines between 1991 and 2001; the non-linearity adding to the interest and intrigue. The author does not try overly hard to build the mystery, putting instead his efforts behind the convoluted relationships of the main characters. "Reversible Errors" is a classic case of the reward being in the journey, rather than the final destination. Always a master of legal details and courtroom drama, Turow introduces a new dimension to his talents. While not much of a "feel-good" book, "Reversible Errors" is definitely one of the more intelligent reads of 2002.

I've been a fan of Scott Turow's writing since his law school memoir, ONE-L, which he published in 1977 -- ten years before his first novel. He has a terrific talent for incrementally developing his characters, slowly introducing the reader into their minds and lives, as he demonstrates again with Muriel Wynn, the driven chief deputy prosecuting attorney, and Larry Starczek, a talented homicide detective. The two of them have been having a largely destructive relationship for many years, and while neither of them is really a "bad guy," they're aren't entirely good guys, either. In other words, they're real people. The same is true of Arthur Raven, the corporate attorney who gets appointed by the federal court to be counsel for Rommy "Squirrel" Gandolph in the last round of appeals on his way to execution. Arthur, who is a bundle of personal problems and contradictions, is nevertheless the closest thing in this story to a wholly innocent person. Then there's Gillian Sullivan, the ex-judge who originally sentenced Gandolph, but who subsequently went down for bribery and is only recently out of prison herself; she is in many ways an admirable person at base, trying hard to rediscover her place in a much more limited world with Arthur's help. As always, Turow also builds a complex but wholly believable mystery plot -- rather slowly at the beginning of the book but gathering speed by page 100 -- doling out reasonable clues but not really giving anything away. (This ain't Agatha Christie.) While the author still indulges in a number of minor but annoying grammatical idiosyncrasies, and often seems to have trouble making his verb tenses agree, I will continue to look forward eagerly to his next novel.

I had high expectations for this one. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. After the first half of the book I skimmed alot of pages. It wasn't that it was too wordy. It was just that I didn't care about most of the characters. The defendant on trial is pretty much just a name - we never really get to know him or care one way or the other if he lives or dies.

The characters that I did like (Arthur and Gillian) were boring and predictable. Their storyline could and SHOULD really have gone a different way.

Susan - why even bring her into the book? Another pity factor for poor, misunderstood Arthur?

Murial & Larry - boring. Their relationship was an unnecessary addition to the novel. It did, however, make up the majority of my skimming.

The only redeeming factor is the mystery behind who killed the 3 innocent people in the diner.

Borrow this book from the library or some poor sap who bought it. It is unworth your hard-earned cash.

Turow's latest book is a classic American tale of obsession, regret and second chances - some taken, some squandered. Reversible Errors is not merely a legal novel, but rather, a broad exploration of the essential character of America, namely, the endless striving for something better and the price we all pay for doing so. In Reversible Errors, the pursuit of worldly success is inevitably burdened - with addictions, sick relatives, criminal pasts, or awkward love. Each of Turow's characters has been confronted with bifurcated paths - one of which furthers his or her career, the other of which does not. As these choices - past, present, and future - are revealed, the reader sees how some people sacrifice their happy careers for empty distractions and how others sacrifice their happy lives for empty careers. Most poignant of these is the prosecutor/politician Muriel: "All her life she'd been so bound up in being in the world, in doing, that she was liable to lose track of herself . . . ." Muriel turns her back on a life of passion with her lover who is "only a cop", and instead opts for a loveless marriage to another man who can further her career. Though she regrets her decision, she repeats her choice ten years later. I read Reversible Errors right after having read Scott Gaille's The Law Review, in which much younger versions of Turow's characters struggle with similar decisions while they are in law school, ultimately participating in the cover-up of a gruesome murder. Both books also reminded me of Turow's autobiographical tale of his own harsh initiation into the legal profession at Harvard Law School in One L. The sort of obsession portrayed in these books is certainly a trait more commonly found in America than elsewhere in the world. It is both what has made this country so powerful and what has alienated others in the world: both the beautiful American and the ugly American. The one lesson all the books yield is that we do lose track of ourselves, and there are serious consequences to doing so, both for ourselves and others.