Reversible Errors: A Novel

"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.

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.

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.

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.