Customer Reviews

Rumpole and the Reign of Terror (Rumpole Novels)

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John Mortimer's "Rumpole and the Reign of Terror" brings back the champion of the underdog, Horace Rumpole, who is the oldest inhabitant of the chambers at 4 Equity Court. With his trademark frayed gown and yellowing wig, Rumpole appears innocuous enough. However, when he stands up in court, he has an arsenal of formidable weapons at his disposal: a stentorian voice, biting wit laced with sarcasm, and devastatingly effective powers of cross-examination. He frequently angers intrusive and overbearing judges, and he specializes in persuading lying witnesses to blurt out the truth.

Refusing to retire from his beloved profession, Rumpole makes most of his living these days defending the Timson clan, whom he considers decent, non-violent criminals. They engage in breaking and entering, burglary, and receipt of stolen property. Unfortunately, Rumpole's relationship with the Timson clan quickly sours when he takes the case of a man accused of consorting with terrorists, Dr. Mahmood Khan. Khan left Pakistan when his anti-government protests made him unwelcome in his native land. He settled in England and married Tiffany Timson, whose family is none too happy with the match. The Timsons reluctantly withdraw their business from Rumpole when he agrees to represent Tiffany's husband.

Khan's case makes Rumpole's blood boil. The new terrorism laws allow the doctor to be imprisoned without knowing the specific charges against him. In addition, Dr. Khan is presumed guilty until proven innocent, which leaves him with little legal recourse. Rumpole defies his long-suffering wife, Hilda (She Who Must Be Obeyed), as well as his obnoxious and condescending Head of Chambers, Soapy Sam Ballard, both of whom urge him to drop the case. On the contrary, Rumpole is determined to fight Dr. Khan's case to the finish, not just on its merits, but also because of its symbolic importance. Rumpole is steadfast in his belief that it is his duty to safeguard "civil rights ... and the basic principles of our criminal law."

"Rumpole and the Reign of Terror" is a small gem. In fewer than two hundred pages, Mortimer writes a tidy mystery, and he also captures the spirit of our times. We live in an age when elderly people like Rumpole are shunted aside as being out of step, when the fear of terrorism leads to abuse of human rights, and when racial prejudice infects cities populated by large numbers of immigrants. Mortimer explores these and other themes with wit and effortless style. In this novel, the irrepressible and cantankerous Rumpole is challenged not only by outrageous decrees that threaten our constitution freedoms, but also by his rebellious wife. She Who Must Be Obeyed has one or two tricks up her sleeve to get back at her exasperating spouse.

For those readers lucky enough to have seen the magnificent Leo McKern play Rumpole of the Bailey on public television, this book will be an even greater treat. It is a pleasure to imagine the great McKern as Rumpole, talking back to judges, spouting Shakespeare, sparring with Hilda, and standing up for the principles of justice. "Rumpole and the Reign of Terror" is charmingly satirical, enormously entertaining, and one of the best mysteries of the year.

Horace Rumpole is mad as heck and he's not going to take it anymore!

John Mortimer's latest offering in his Rumpole of the Bailey series, "Rumpole and the Reign of Terror", finds Rumpole at his grouchy best. His grouchiness is not directed at his usual targets: Hilda (She Who Must be Obeyed) Rumpole or his colleagues at his law chambers. Instead, Rumpole has targeted his verbal slings and arrows at anti-terror legislation passed by Parliament in the aftermath of the September 11th attacks and the terror bombings in London of 7 July, 2005. Rumpole (and presumably Mortimer) believes that elements of these Acts threaten to destroy some of the civil liberties Britons have fought for since Magna Carta. Specifically, and despite his loathing for the bus-bombing terrorists, Rumpole is apoplectic at elements of the legislation that allows Britain's police and security forces to detain suspected (non-citizen) terrorists for an indefinite period without benefit of counsel or a formal presentation of charges. In other words Rumpole see a threat to two legal precepts he holds dearest: the right of any suspect to seek relief from possibly unlawful detention via the use of the "great writ of habeas corpus"; and the presumption that a defendant is innocent until proven guilty.

Rumpole falls into his latest case, in this case something akin to a legal crusade, by accident. He is defending one of the Timson clan (the crime family that has provided Rumpole with a reasonable income (a claim disputed by Hilda no doubt) for his entire career on a run of the mill breaking and entering charge. One of the Timson `girls' seeks Rumpole's assistance. Her husband, a Pakistani-born doctor, has been arrested and detained on unspecified terrorism charges. The wife is convinced that her husband is innocent and Rumpole takes the case. To Rumpole's chagrin the Timson clan fires Rumpole because they are patriots and refuse to do business with anyone who helps terrorists. Rumpole is stymied at every turn trying to get a trial for his client in order to determine his guilt or innocence until he finds a bit of information about one of his protagonists that he uses to great, if not ethical advantage. To add to Rumpole's woes, She Who Must Be Obeyed is busy locked up in a room typing her memoirs.

The above description of the plot may make Rumpole and The Reign of Terror sound a bit more depressing and less funny than the typical Rumpole story. Fortunately, this is not the case. Despite the fact that Mortimer has taken on a serious subject, Rumpole, Hilda and the usual suspects retain their usual eccentricities. Mortimer writes with a light touch, even on a subject as serious as terrorism and manages to pull it off even as Rumpole sputters on in a caustic fashion about Tony Blair and his `new Labour' minions. Rumpole remains a delightfully drawn character. Further, Mortimer provides excerpts from Hilda's memoir-in-progress and they serve as a humorous Greek chorus that sets out popular sentiment that runs contrary to Rumpole's ideals.

I very much enjoyed Rumpole and the Reign of Terror. I understand that many readers, even Rumpole fans, will not share Rumpole's view of the sanctity of `the law' in a time of terror. However, Mortimer's writing is first-rate and funny as always and I don't think a divergent viewpoint should keep a potential reader away from another wonderful story of the trials and tribulations of the great Rumpole of the Bailey! Enjoy. L. Fleisig

Since his inaugural case in the 1970's Rumpole has busily defended one or another of the Timson clan (a large and industrious family of South London thieves) on various charges. More than one of the cases Rumpole has previously chronicled involves a Timson unwisely befriending, trusting, and being betrayed by a Molloy (another large and industrious family of South London thieves). Rumpole brilliantly wins each case by convincing the jury that the Timsons and Molloys are like the Hatfields and McCoys, and that the conniving Molloy has framed the hapless Timson.

This case serves up a slight twist on that old plot, with Rumpole defending a Timson who unwisely befriended another Molloy, and at the same time defending a Pakistani doctor who married a Timson and whose affairs also cross paths with the Molloys. Besides bringing Rumpole, the Timsons, and the Molloys into the 21st Century, Mortimer also manages to mix in huge doses of critique of anti-terrorism laws. He's not too heavy-handed with his criticism, and the political commentary does not detract from the story.

The first Rumpole stories were complex pieces of work, with numerous subplots involving Rumpole's colleagues swirling around the main mystery. Mortimer's later efforts have been less complex, with Rumpole's chamber-mates at Number 4 Equity Court receding to the background as Rumpole's relationship with his wife Hilda (She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed) receives more attention. The trend continues in this latest effort, with Soapy Sam Ballard, Phillida Erskine-Brown, Claude Erskine-Brown, Hoskins, and Henry the clerk receding into cardboard figures with little depth. Still, "The Reign of Terror" was so engaging that I read it in one sitting.

RUMPOLE AND THE REIGN OF TERROR is just as as perfect as a novel can be. I feared that Mortimer might make a misstep, given the "timeliness" (actually, timelessness) of his theme (the defense of our hard-won legal rights), but the storytelling is wonderfully sure and subtle. Mortimer never tells when he can show, and he writes volumes between the lines. (What a master of understatement and informing by indirection!) All the various themes and storylines (Hilda's flirtation with divorce, Rumpole's reaction to this, the way Rumpole is viewed by others in the legal system and how he views them, the subject of terror and the law) reflect brilliantly on each other and come together seamlessly at the end. The sum is more than the parts -- a feat of novelistic magic -- and there can be no higher praise than that.

Once again Mr. Mortimer has graced us with a Rumpole novel, and this one is a bit different. Normally we only get the story from Rumpole's point of view, but this time out there is a counterpoint from the memoirs being written by his long-suffering wife Hilda (or "She Who Must Be Obeyed"). The new angle puts some life into Hilda's character, and also allows us to see the more human side of the judges who are constantly being castigated by Rumpole. The main story itself is quite interesting, although even a moderately discerning reader can solve the question of guilt fairly early on in the story. That's not really the point of these books: rather it is Rumpole's querelous view of the world and just about everybody else in it. May he go on to tackle many more interesting cases.

This is one of the rare authors where I would have to say, even a "bad" Rumpole is a good Rumpole, but I have yet to read a "bad."

What I find the most intriguing about this, and the last, Rumpole novel, is, who has evolved more: Horace, Hilda, or Mortimer himself?

I look forward, with eager anticipation, to more of Hilda's "memoirs," and find it delightful that Bullingham (of all the horrid people!) appreciates her in the way she deserves. (Making Horace, it would seem, appreciate her, too?)

As to the plot itself: DId it sound a bit familiar, as if perhaps Mortimer has used this formula before? Well, maybe it did... but who cares? It is, after all, Rumpole, and Rumpole is Mortimer at his very best.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole novel needs another 5-star review about as much as his crusty, curmudgeonly bard of the Old Bailey needs a leader on a simple breaking and entering trial. But I'll go ahead and give it to him anyway.

Mortimer has bested his most recent Rumpole efforts with this modern case of terrorism and a goverment too eager to overlook longheld beliefs about rights and freedom.

In the hands of many, such a book could be tedious and preachy, but in Mortimer's deft hands, it is, like all Rumpole novels, a rollicking, witty, and light tale of intrique that Mortimer fans will delight in.

Here is another fine novel from John Mortimer chronicling the life and times of Horace Rumpole, London barrister and scourge of tyrants, idiots, sycophants, and incompetents. This time, Rumpole must deal with the aftereffects of the War on Terror, particularly the Blair Government's sorry efforts to limit or efface hundreds of years of British common law safeguards against wrongful arrest and imprisonment. He is the advocate for a Pakistani resident of London who has fallen afoul of anti-terrorism laws and might be deported to his native land, where he will definitely be imprisoned and tortured or executed because he believes in democracy. (Which the anti-terrorist laws being lampooned are supposedly designed to safeguard in the first place!) Its a situation ripe for Rumpole, and he is at his best here, deflating egos and probing weak spots right and left to ultimately triumph, at least partially and only for a moment, but nevertheless triumph.

All of the tried and true Rumpole characters are here: She Who Must Be Obeyed (who gets her own point of view across several times), the-always- on-the-wrong-side-of-the-law Timson clan, the utterly incompetent ninnies Sam Ballard and Claude Erskine-Brown, and all the rest. If one takes Rumpole at his word that he was about 60 when his chronicles began back in the 1970s he must now be a nonagenarian, but he remains as ageless and active as ever. I hope we will see many more of his cases in the future (perhaps he can get a license to practice US law and take on the Bush Administration and the Patriot Act next!)

Rumpole of the Old Bailey is so inseparable from Leo McKern, in my mind, that I hear and see McKern whenever I pick up a Rumpole novel.

This latest novel is every bit as enjoyable as its predecessors. John Mortimer writes so effectively that a series of complex events and relationships can be described, dissected, deliberated and decided in less than 200 pages. Brevity can be a virtue.

Long may Rumpole continue to appear for the defence!

Rumpole fans will enjoy this, and so should other readers of well-written, entertaining fiction.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith

`Let nobody be in any doubt, the rules of the game are changing' quoth Mr T Blair a couple of months ago. I know what I thought about that, I would have expected John Mortimer to think much the same, and thankfully he is still around to put the issue across far better than I could. Readers of his other work, not only the Rumpole stories but also, say, Dunster, will know what world-view to expect from him by now - justice and fairness are very little better than a lottery but the fight for them must and will go on. Mortimer is a novelist of course, not an essayist, but the pamphleteering element is perhaps the most important ingredient in his novels, as it might be thought to be in those of Dickens.

Mortimer's much-loved anti-hero Horace Rumpole, an undistinguished but astute and sharp-tongued lawyer, is here again, this time to take part in Mr Blair's game whose rules are changing. Blair (himself a lawyer and whose wife is an advocate of the greatest distinction in the field of - human rights, wouldn't you believe) never tackles the issue head-on, and small wonder. We can follow the changes he is making (or trying to make) but we get only evasions from him when we try to ascertain just how these changes impinge on the fundamental rights enshrined in the Magna Charta, particularly of course the entitlement of Habeas Corpus. We all know that we face a new type of threat, we all know that national security is paramount, we all have a general idea of the particular culture the threat comes from, we all know that detection and obtaining evidence are vital to thwarting terrorist outrages, we all know that secrecy is vital to the security services, but these generalities - disputed by nobody - are all that Tony will tell us. When misgivings are expressed about extending the period over which suspects can be detained without being charged, when clarification is sought of such a novel legal concept as `glorifying' terrorism, when it is proposed to withdraw the right of trial in open court, when the fundamental entitlement to a presumption of innocence until proved otherwise looks itself to be under attack from new legislation, he just reiterates that we face a new type of threat, that national security is paramount and so on and so on. What exactly the `game' is I'm not fully clear, but the rules of the debate seem to involve going round in circles while the general direction of travel ought to give rise to general alarm.

Hang the issue around Rumpole and we have a very entertaining narrative as usual, given a new spice from the contributions of She, who is writing Her memoirs too. She still doesn't purport to be much more than a caricature, and it's probably fair to say the same of the other participants in the story except of course Rumpole. I'm sure a certain amount of drawing from life has gone on, but I can only partly appreciate it. I'm in no doubt that the name Lamorna Cove refers to a certain famous advocate, but I'm missing the point of the allusion through not being myself a lawyer. Again, there have been four Home Secretaries in Blair's government, I'd be surprised if the fictional Home Secretary here is not modelled to some extent on these but I'm not sure what parallels Mortimer is really drawing. And of course I cannot even imagine which Lord Chancellor he had in mind when he makes one of his characters say `The Lord Chancellor doesn't get drunk.' I like to think, or at least to hope, that there is an element of exaggeration in this tale of ego-trippers, placemen, amorous judges, conservative prejudices, playing to the gallery, second-guessing public reactions, political pressures and improper influence masquerading as the administration of English justice. I take some comfort from the thought that there is a strong parodistic strain in the narrative, and that some of the main turns of events, such as the Perry-Mason-style denouement in court are pantomime scenarios rather than real life. However even if so I'm uncomfortably aware that it's only exaggeration, not outright invention. In the last resort Mortimer knows the courts and I don't.

We all love Rumpole, and I'm sure it gave his creator pleasure to trundle him out again on his Rosinante of stubborn and cynical opposition to the forces of sheer irrationality that seem to be inherent in the culture of all large organisations and of the law in particular. However at age 83 and in frail health Sir John is not likely to have written this novel just as a labour of love. This book is a pamphlet in narrative garb, created out of an urgent sense of alarm. I quite concede that Mortimer's advocacy is one-sided, but that's advocacy. After all, there are real problems for the police in obtaining evidence within the timeframe permitted under the current law. There are issues outside of Britain's control in obtaining international co-operation from states whose libertarian characteristics leave something to be desired and there are pressures on Britain from quarters which claim to be libertarian by some species of definition, appearances often strongly to the contrary. It will undoubtedly make life easier in Britain to return certain foreign residents to countries of origin where their likely treatment does not bear much imagining. All this is true, but the question does not end there, and although the challenge is enormous it will not do to pretend, as Blair seems to pretend, that it does end there or that the perceptions of totalitarian drift are unreal or unimportant. Taking the line of least resistance and relying on public apathy and prejudice may end with the hard-won achievements of 1215 rendered null by 2015, we can't blame it on the politicians if we sit idly by, and it needs to bring out the Rumpole that is hopefully latent in each of us.