--Jules Feiffer

I have decided that all I really want to do right now is catch up already, so I'll be able to get back to writing an entry a day without this backlog looming over my head. Quality be damned; it's time for quantity!

In that spirit, then, and given that I'm already on the subject of John Grisham, I present a rerun. Or, to be more precise, here's a book review I wrote for the March 16, 1998 issue of college paper, back when I was the Copy Editor there. It's probably the best book review I wrote for them (although, admittedly, I didn't write all that many).

I'm sorry, that was the sound of a book reviewer hastily slamming a door behind him and triple-locking it. You see, I discovered this long-lost file in the Quad archives, and now two Federal agencies and the Mafia are after me. My only hope is to double-cross all of them with the help of my incredibly beautiful and talented assistant, get a whole lot of money, and start a new life in the Bahamas.

The above is a somewhat oversimplified variation of John Grisham's usual formula. While, in the past, he's had a nasty habit of writing himself into a corner and resolving the plot by cheating, his books have never had a dull moment. His greatest strength has been in writing page-turners, in which the stakes are high, and disaster is just a moment away.

Until now.

The Street Lawyer starts off promisingly enough. A street bum with a gun holds nine lawyers hostage in a conference room. He has twelve sticks of dynamite around his body, and he grills the lawyers about how much they make, and how little they give to the poor. Six hours go by, as the bum lectures them on the way they neglect the needy. Then a SWAT team blows the guy's head off. End of Chapter Two, end of the street bum, and end of any suspense in this book.

The book goes on for another 300 pages, but it's hard to care much about the rest of it. Our protagonist, Michael Brock, is one of the lawyers who was taken hostage, and his life is irreversibly changed. He starts helping out at homeless shelters, and, shortly thereafter, he quits his high-paying job to work as a street lawyer, representing the homeless at a minimal salary. We never quite find out why. In fact, we are given surprisingly little insight into Michael's thoughts and actions, especially considering that the book is written in the first person.

Oh, I'm sorry, did I say that most of this book lacked suspense? I forgot the highly-charged plot element that dominates the novel, keeping us readers on the edge of our collective seats! You see, it turns out that the street bum from the first two chapters was on the street because Michael's law firm illegally evicted him and others. So... in a series of incredibly contrived plot twists, Michael steals a file that proves that the law firm acted improperly, but is unable to return it before the theft is discovered. The law firm gets uptight about the whole thing, and, for the rest of the book, Michael is faced with the fearsome spectre of being temporarily disbarred! The horror!

But, then, this book isn't really about the indiscretions of Michael or his firm. This book is John Grisham's position paper on the homeless. Not content to be a mere writer of courtroom dramas, Grisham has once again decided to tackle an issue of importance, after having given his positions on the death penalty and the tobacco industry in previous books.

The Street Lawyer doesn't convey Grisham's views very well, for two reasons. First and foremost, for moralizing to be acceptable in a novel, the plot and characters have to be interesting enough to support it. That is not the case here. The characters are two-dimensional, and the plot is all but non-existent. Second, in order to persuade the reader to accept your position, you need to have a position. At most, Grisham shows that we need to do something about -- or for -- the homeless, but he's pretty vague about just what whould solve the problem.

This is not Grisham's worst book -- that honor is reserved for The Partner -- but it comes close, and it's certainly his least engaging. And, like all of his books, it's an easy read. Still, your best bet is to wait for the inevitable movie, and hope the studio rewrites the whole thing.

By the way, the street bum's dynamite turns out to be painted bits of wood. That could be a symbol for the whole book.