One L by Scott Turow

As part of a "reading list" somebody posted online, I picked up this book and read it on my recent weekend away. This is another "inside" law school expose. What makes it notable is the age of the book, it was published in 1977 and is supposedly to be about the 1L class at Harvard University in 1975.

And "Harvard University in 1975" says it all. As you can guess it is filled with the self-aggrandizing righteousness of the hippy-skippy late 60s, the decade most of the law school class went to undergrad in, plus with the ivy league setting we get a good dollop of that elite smug martyrdom we see so well in the era of "carbon offsets". The author seems to revel in this righteousness, however one wonders if that was a function of him or his youth (the opening gives a slight ray of self-realization into this, but the sun never rises).

In a particular telling incident, the author signs a group letter to the school protesting the teaching style of a particular teacher. Nothing wrong with that in my opinion. Then the letter becomes public, and the author hems-and-haws about how scandalous it would be if the teacher in question just may hold him to his views. He even goes so far as to apologize to the teacher.

What a sickening display of cowardice. He commits to a protest and then weasels away when he realizes that commitment may have a cost, and then even apologizes, betraying the cause he found so holy.

The end somewhat rambles on about how the author would "change" laws school education for the better. One might ask why, but I remind you he is a product of Amherst, taught at Stanford, and studied at Harvard Law. Isn't it clear knows much more than anybody else!?! We also have to factor in his pure heart and righteousness of his cause. Doesn't that proves he is the warm little center of the universe that must be heeded!?! (If it was not for the fact he attended Boston College, I would swear Scott Turow is the nom de plume of Sen. John Kerry)

Somewhere in this ending display of claptrap he discusses the trend of "diversity" from his perspective 30 years ago. While this could prove interesting, like the rest of the book it is wrapped up in that 60's drivel that placed emphasis on the superficial over the substance.

For example, one of his classmates, Susan Sondergard, is constantly referred to as crying. She cries during orientation. She cries when she meets her professors. She cries when a class is difficult for her. She cries as stress gets to her. She cries before she cries and then she cries some more. OK, I made that last one up, but save for literally one mention Susan is referred to as crying about something. The one place where she is not referred to as crying is here:

"Karen Sondergard said she quit one study group because she felt her opinions were ignored solely because she was a woman"

No dummy, your opinions were ignored because you cried at the fucking drop of a hat. How dense can you get? Speaking of dense, in another hilarious account by a female student, named "Gina":

"When I get called on [in class] I really think about rape. It's sudden. You're exposed. You can't move. You can't say no. And there's this man who's in control telling you what to do. Maybe that's melodramatic."

Maybe? MAYBE? Then, predictably, she wonders why she is not taken seriously. (Incidentally, the drama queen may now be teaching law according to Turow)

Despite the execrable cast of characters, there are a few nuggets that might help me. It is the first book to discuss the competitive pressures of law school. Sure it treats them as only negatives (actually the author characterizes them as inhuman), but its nice to get the other end of the spectrum since what I have read previously characterizes law school culture from positive to neutral. It is also the first book to better describe the daily grind and the battering of the Socratic method (of which the author has nothing go to say about). Still, I do not know if that was worth the psychedelic time-warp.