In the Shadow of the Law

As a Harvard Law graduate (who practiced for over 20 years before deciding to become an editor and writer) and an avid reader of fiction about lawyers, I found this book so true-to-life as to be astounding. Again and again I came across scenes that seemed taken from my own experiences as the author so accurately and vividly portrays his characters, be it the associate who bills eight hours by midday while working only a few due to the magic of the "minimum" time charge, the senior partner on early morning patrol in the hallways ruing the billable hours being forever lost by those not there, or the mid-level partners using artificial deadlines to "motivate" those unfortunate to be on their team. In particular the discussion on how to get double billable hours while traveling reminded me of my first trip where I was advised I must count my time "portal to portal" no matter what I was doing. In addition, while the book would have worked wonderfully as simply a satiric skewering of the not-so-wonderful practices in which attorneys engage, it somehow also manages to show the good those caught up in the law firm system can do if given the opportunity. By doing so it creates a uniquely balanced as well as highly readable perspective of the legal system. In short, this book should be a must read for everyone in law school, everyone practicing in a firm, and everyone who remembers what it was like to be driven by the mighty billable hour.

I loved this book. I've read a lot of legal thrillers, and in the past few years there have been a lot of academic types churning out their first novels (for example, The Rule of Four, Emperor of Ocean Park, The Dante Club), so I thought I had a pretty good sense of what to expect from this book. But it far exceeded my expectations. First of all, it did not read like a first novel. With some of the recent first-novel-thrillers, I got the sense that the authors thought, hey, I'm smart, I'm erudite, I can write a trashy book--how hard can it be? It's trash, after all. But writing a book is hard, and takes practice, and so there are good bad books (The Da Vinci Code) and bad bad books. And, predictably, those first novels read like the work of tyros. In contrast, it's clear that Roosevelt has written fiction before. He knows his way around a sentence, and a plot. I couldn't hear the gears turning when I read Roosevelt's book. Second, it wasn't trashy. (I mean that in a good way.) There were actual characters, who actually, you know, developed. Even though they were all "types," they also came alive as people for me. In fact, the plot of the book seemed secondary to Roosevelt's observations and skillful but understated writing. Finally, Roosevelt has ideas about the law that go beyond the standard "class actions can punish big companies" or "big firms are sleazy" themes of other legal thrillers. He seems to have complicated, ambivalent views of legal ethics, for example. In short, this book is definitely worth reading.

Entertainment Weekly put this book on its "Must List," praising its "complex and believable characters." The plot is interesting, but what's distinctive is the characters and the different views they have of the law. Well worth reading.

Like LeCarre, Roosevelt willfully adopts all the conventions of his genre--the young associate at the powerful corporate law firm who comes to suspect his employer's complicity in a deadly crime--but subverts them by stripping away their sensationalism. You don't expect to see George Smiley parachute onto a ski slope in a tuxedo with his submachine gun blazing, and, while there's menace aplenty and even some violence in In the Shadow of the Law, neither do you expect to see Roosevelt's protagonist escape gun-toting thugs by executing an uneven-bar routine on the plumbing in The Firm's basement. (Indeed, Roosevelt's Mark Clayton doesn't even seem to be a very good lawyer.) Paradoxically, however, in In the Shadow of the Law, as in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, the unimistakable air of authenticity makes an intricate plot much more riveting than it would be if it were tarted up with implausible cliches. But Roosevelt also has qualities that LeCarre didn't develop until later--if ever. One is a graceful, evocative, expressive writing style. The other is the intellectual maturity to tackle a big theme. LeCarre's big theme was uncertainty and moral compromise in the Great Game. Roosevelt's is the law: how it works, what it means, and how it can be used to both just and unjust ends. And while there is some cynicism in his treatment of the mercenary motives of corporate attorneys, his novel is also animated by a deep understanding of and respect for the law, and the conviction that it can be a means to a greater good. A brilliant debut.

Though it is an intricately plotted and very exciting story (I repeatedly found myself paging ahead to find out what happened next), what really struck me about this novel is how beautifully written it is. Roosevelt describes the emotional life of his characters almost in negative space, creating the contours of their thoughts and lives by what is going on around them. He uses a light brush, never maudlin, and yet the novel is deeply touching. It's also quite funny in places, and I found myself laughing out loud several times. Though I'm not a lawyer, I also found the concepts of the law as it is practiced and how it is imagined by its practitioners to be very insightful and absorbing. Roosevelt seems to both love the law and despair of it, as he does with the people he has created. I thought this was a wonderful book.