Reversible Errors by
Scott Turow
pbk out June 03
(Pan)
at £6.99
A profoundly gifted writer, says the back cover, a quote from the New
York Times. Codswallop, snorted Sam Leith in the Telegraph. Certainly
you might think that Turow’s statement (in a recent Observer interview)
that ‘some people are incorrigibly evil’ perhaps handicaps him in the
profundity stakes. But he does write supremely humane and compassionate
crime novels. And this one is no exception.
“God save me from an innocent client” someone declares in the course
of the book. But diffident lawyer Arthur Raven might just have one –
and Arthur is terrified. The client is Romeo ‘Rommy’ Gandolph, a no-hope
black man of little intelligence ,who, thirty-three days before his
scheduled execution, has reversed his previous confession to ‘the Fourth
of July Massacre’, a nasty affair involving three deaths and a sexual
assault. Gillian Sullivan was the judge who delivered the death
sentence, and she is trying to put her life back together after being
jailed when she took a bribe to support her heroin habit. Gillian has a
lead that might just provide the evidence to claim ‘reversible error’.
Yet to be convinced is prosecuting attorney Muriel Wynn who, ten years
before, was in bed with married police officer Larry Starczek when he
was called to the scene of the Massacre. Since separated, the
investigation will put them back together again.
As will be evident, the reversible errors of the title do not simply
refer to the legal process, or the process of the book, as the ‘facts’ of
the case are steadily and convincingly unravelled. This is a novel about
redemption. Whilst beautiful meticulous plotting and construction are
major features of the book (in the early stages, events both in the
present and those surrounding the Massacre ten years ago, are skilfully
interleaved), the balance between the advancing plot and personal lives
of the characters is also perfectly realised. In particular the
relationship between Arthur and Gillian is tenderly and perceptively
developed. Nor are devotees of legal procedure and/or courtroom drama
neglected, deftly inserted where necessary by the master of the legal
thriller.
That dual structure has other effects too. And it is not simply to
illuminate the events of the past with the perspective of the present,
or to achieve suspense and uncertainty in the mind of the reader as
Arthur gathers seemingly incontrovertible evidence for Rommy’s
innocence, though both are achieved. It serves to broaden our
perspective on the characters, allowing them to grow in our eyes in a
way unusual in crime fiction.
Though perhaps not a ‘profound’ novel, at least in that heavily
literary sense, this is neverthelesss one that shows imperfect humanity
struggling with the cards that life has dealt – and just occasionally
coming up trumps. And that’s fine with me.
