"The best man I've ever known on bloodstains.", 23 Feb 2008
Horace Rumpole is a young "white wig," when he has his first chance to assist C. H. Wystan, his head of chambers, on a murder case. Idealistic and committed to providing an active defense of anyone accused of crime, Rumpole is appalled by Wystan's complete lack of interest in the case and by Wystan's attempts to get his client to plead guilty to a crime he insists he never committed. Rumpole's performance on a day when his superior is out of court inspires his young client to fire C. H. Wystan in favor of Rumpole, a breach of etiquette which could have ended Rumpole's career before it even got started.

The young client, Simon Jerold, is accused of murdering his war hero father and a fellow RAF pilot with a German Luger which his father kept as a war trophy. Witnesses had seen him threaten both men when they, drunk, had taunted Simon about his lack of "heroism" and made moves to "de-pants" him. C. H. Wystan's open-and-shut case becomes far more complicated when Rumpole investigates the circumstances of the murder, the patterns of the blood stains, and the backgrounds of the two victims.

Written as part of Rumpole's memoirs when he was an old man recalling his best cases (and he believes that this one "made" his career), this novel from 2004 includes background information to delight the seasoned Rumpole lover. C. H. Wystan's purposeful daughter, Hilda, watches his performance in court, sets the snares to capture him in marriage, and begins a hilarious "courtship." He first makes the acquaintance of the Timson family of thieves, for whom he continuously performs miracles in court throughout his career. His love of Wordsworth, echoing throughout the novel in his descriptions and asides, is obvious from the outset, and characters who continue throughout the Rumpole series appear here early in his career.

Though the story is well executed and great fun to read for its plot, the satire and wry humor are what make the novel come alive. The do-nothing barristers, their avoidance of work (and controversy!), their love of perks, their belief that they deserve them, and their assumption that they really are superior in every way, are fair game for the more dedicated young Rumpole, whose own arrogance is also part of the satire. Sarcasm is taken to new heights in the continuing dialogues in which Rumpole tells off his superiors, then admits that's what he wanted to say but didn't. A classic Rumpole novel, this one connects the early and later phases of Rumpole's career (and his life with Hilda), filling in some blanks and expanding the Rumpole persona. Mary Whipple


A LA RECHERCHE, 03 Nov 2007
After years of tantalising us with references to early stardom by Rumpole in re the Penge Bungalow Murders, Sir John Mortimer has finally decided to attach a story to the references. As usual, I lapped it up, and I doubt that any aficionado of either Rumpole or his author will feel disappointed with this new offering. It has the usual flavour of a Rumpole story, made up from the usual ingredients. For the benefit of newcomers, Horace Rumpole is a minor London barrister with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue whose stubborn if disillusioned refusal to eliminate the pursuit of justice from the pursuit of the law has been a barrier to greater career progression. Rumpole is married to Hilda, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, and he earns his daily bread mainly from being called on regularly to defend a family of minor non-violent criminals called the Timsons.

This tale, taking us back to the outset of Rumpole's career, has a sense about it of filling in details while there is still time to do that. As well as the Penge events, for instance, we learn how Rumpole gained his entry to his legal chambers, we are given our first introduction to the Timsons, and above all we observe the early wooing, not of Hilda by Rumpole but of Rumpole by Hilda. In case there are no more Rumpole stories, we have now no grounds for complaint that our curiosity has been left unsatisfied in any of these vital respects. However the main character in any Rumpole narrative is none of the foregoing - not even Rumpole - but Mortimer himself. Sir John is a champagne socialist and an intolerant liberal, characteristics that I for one find rather attractive. He parades his own prejudices, dislikes and resentments in this volume as in its predecessors, and we ought to know what to expect by now. At one level the author's detestation of cant and humbug ought, in my own opinion, to raise a favourable reaction in any fair-minded person. At another level responses may legitimately vary to Mortimer's bien-pensant snobbery in regard to such unfashionable suburbs as Penge and to such little-regarded vocations as bank-clerking, insurance sales and patio tiling.

My heart makes me want to award this book the full 5 stars, but it is my head that is telling me not to. Any Rumpole novel is largely satire and it would be ridiculous to demand too much verisimilitude. However there are limits, even here, to what I can swallow as legitimate distortions, and one such that goes over the top so far as I am concerned is the constant pillorying of the future father-in-law for his hypocritical invocations of his beloved `finest traditions of the bar'. Another is the actual denouement of the murder trial itself. Surely a judge so inclined to nitpicking in matters of relevance would hardly have tolerated such a far-fetched line of cross-examination by such a junior counsel? I can't help suspecting a touch of weariness and `let's-get-this-thing-finished' on the part of the elderly author, I must say.

For all that, the actual detective work struck me as quite convincing, and I was left with the right feeling of satisfaction that the mystery had been solved and a fair outcome ensured. As I have said, votaries of Rumpole or of Mortimer or of both are likely to enjoy this book as much as any of its forerunners. In the nature of the case we can't expect many more now, so enjoy.

Impossible to put down!, 12 Mar 2005
Throughout his long and distinguished career, John Mortimer's most famous character, Horace Rumpole, has mentioned his early and crowning victory of "the Penge Bungalow Murders." And now, after all these years, Rumpole has decided to write his memoirs, and tell of his great victory.

When two war heroes are found murdered in their nearby homes, the son of one of them becomes the prime suspect. Everything looks bleak for the young man, until fate decrees that his junior counsel should be a young, untried lawyer, Horace Rumpole. Rumpole's leader, C.H. Wystan, QC, plans to involve himself as little as possible, and lose with dignity. But, if there is one thing that Rumpole is not about to do, it is to lose with dignity. The main question is, if the accused didn't commit the murder, then who did? That is the question that Rumpole must answer if he is going to save the seemingly doomed young man.

My wife and I have been fans of Rumpole of the Bailey for years, both the television shows and the books, and we both greatly enjoyed this book. It is every bit as entertaining and thrilling as the earlier Rumpole stories, and is impossible to put down! Even besides the court case, my wife and I loved the peak into Rumpole's past - his meeting with Hilda (later "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed"), and his first defense of a member of the Timson clan.

Heck, even if you have never heard of Rumpole, if you like a good mystery, then this book is for you. It is very well written, and will keep you on the edge of your seat. My wife and I both love this book, and highly recommend it to you!

You Get Justice In The Next World. In This World You Get, 31 Jan 2005
Horace Rumpole!!!! And it is a good thing for any defendant facing a criminal charge in London to have the rumpled, oft-scorned, and much condescended to Horace Rumpole take up your defense against all comers.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole story, Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders takes us back to the great barrister's first big case. The story is told looking back after a conversation in chambers convinces Rumpole to write his memoirs. The story jumps back and forth between Rumpole's recollections of events interrupted only by the occasional (but highly amusing) bit of conversation with Hilda, she who must be obeyed, and his colleagues in chambers.

It is the early 1950s and Rumpole is young, eager, and ready to begin his career as a barrister He has found himself working for C.J. Wystan, the head of his chambers and the father of an assertive young daughter named Hilda. Simon Jerrold has been arrested and accused of the murder of his father and one of his father's friends. Each of the deceased flew for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and this was of no small consequence for the national press. All the evidence available points to Simon as the murderer. A conviction seems a certainty to all, including Simon's lead defense attorney, Wystan. Wystan has selected Rumpole to act as a silent assistant after Hilda suggests for some unknown reason that Rumpole is a man with a future in the law. It should surprise no one that Rumpole does not bow down to the conventional wisdom concerning his client's guilt. The story takes us through the remarkable series of events through which Rumpole assumes control of the defense and takes the case through trial.

As always, Mortimer writes with wit and verve. Mortimer first describes the appearance of Wystan as one that made him think of a "lobster who had been snatched from a peaceful existence at the bottom of the sea and plunged into boiling water." Followed immediately by a slight retraction, "but I have no wish to be overly critical of my future father-in-law."

By taking us back to his first case as a callow, slender youth Mortimer has invigorated and fleshed out (no pun intended) Rumpole considerably. We first came to know Rumpole as an aging overweight, hen-pecked curmudgeon who adheres to obsolete concepts of justice and the presumption of innocence when all around him expediency and decorum prevails. Mortimer shows us flashes of this in Penge Bungalow. We see the character traits: the wit, sarcasm and sense of fair play in its formative stages. We also find out how the young Ms. Hilda Wystan became the infamous she who must be obeyed. It is clear that once Hilda set her mind on something she is not easily denied.

The beauty of the Penge Bungalow Murders is our glimpse of Rumpole as a young man. His character is immediately recognizable. His body may have changed but his inner-self has remained constant. As one of Rumpole's favorite authors once said in Merchant of Venice, "I never knew so young a body with so old a head."

Rumpole and Penge Bungalow Murders is an excellent book. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Finally, the case that began it all...., 18 Oct 2004
It was with no little trepidation that I bought this book. As a practically lifelong fan of John Mortimer's greatest comic creation, Rumpole of the Bailey, it was no easy thing to open the book that proposed to tell the full story behind what had hitherto been "a name to conjure with", Rumpole's first and ever-after cited greatest triumph, The Penge Bungalow Murders, which Rumpole of course won "alone and without a leader!"

In one sense there was absolutely no way in which this book could fail to be a disappointment. To actually attach facts to this marvellous myth could almost be sacrilege, and there's no doubt that when revisiting passages from the previous stories in which Rumpole mentioned the Penge Bungalow murders, they will no doubt no longer have the same impact.

In a way, Mortimer has saddled himself with a particularly difficult problem. In accordance with reality (after all, nobody's perfect) Rumpole has never, unlike fictional detectives, been guaranteed to win his cases. In this case, however, there can be no surprise to the outcome, since Rumpole has never ceased talking about it in almost 30 years of books and TV series. Mortimer, however, does know what he is doing. Firstly he knows instinctively how to engage sympathy for the alleged perpetrator, and by combining this with the doubts exhibited by the "white wig" Rumpole (seasoned barristers never clean their wigs, so the greyer and more tattered the wig, the more experienced the lawyer) Mortimer successfully manages to introduce the necessary note of doubt and uncertainty for the maintenance of suspense. And secondly, experienced readers of Rumpole know that Mortimer is not averse to rounding off a Rumpolian triumph with a little sting in the tale, so one does stay on tenterhooks while reading.

One notable absence from this addition to the canon is the humour which normally characterises the stories of Rumpole (who has been described as one of the greatest comic creations in English Literature). Again, however, there are reasons that Rumpole fans should not be surprised. If there was one subject guaranteed to cause Horace Rumpole to drop his customary flippancy and cynicism, it was the death penalty; and as this story is set in the 1950s, when capital punishment was still the mandatory sentence for murder, the horror of the potential outcome feeds Rumpole's every thought. Mortimer is clearly also expressing long-suppressed feelings about senior defence barristers he encountered in the 1950s, who were rather more concerned with "maintaining the fine traditions of the bar" rather than doing anything substantial to help their clients, even in the event of capital cases. The anger he has felt all these decades is palpable and is certainly one of the reasons that this first ever novel-length Rumpole adventure is worth reading. Other elements of the Rumpole universe given a little more background include the origin of his long-standing relationship with the thieving Timsons of South London, and the precise circumstances of his marriage to the legendary She Who Must Be Obeyed, Hilda Wystan.

For the die-hard fans, I have to report a major omission. In Rumpole and the Expert Witness (included in Rumpole for the Defence, Penguin 1982) Rumpole defends Ned Dacre who is the son of Dr Harry Dacre, whom, in the story, Rumpole remembers as having given evidence in the Penge Bungalow case and having seen "my client's bruises." To save the curiosity of those who may have wondered if consistency would be maintained in the new novel, I'm afraid to have to report that neither Harry Dacre nor Rumpole's client's bruises feature in the case.

"The best man I've ever known on bloodstains.", 23 Feb 2008
Horace Rumpole is a young "white wig," when he has his first chance to assist C. H. Wystan, his head of chambers, on a murder case. Idealistic and committed to providing an active defense of anyone accused of crime, Rumpole is appalled by Wystan's complete lack of interest in the case and by Wystan's attempts to get his client to plead guilty to a crime he insists he never committed. Rumpole's performance on a day when his superior is out of court inspires his young client to fire C. H. Wystan in favor of Rumpole, a breach of etiquette which could have ended Rumpole's career before it even got started.

The young client, Simon Jerold, is accused of murdering his war hero father and a fellow RAF pilot with a German Luger which his father kept as a war trophy. Witnesses had seen him threaten both men when they, drunk, had taunted Simon about his lack of "heroism" and made moves to "de-pants" him. C. H. Wystan's open-and-shut case becomes far more complicated when Rumpole investigates the circumstances of the murder, the patterns of the blood stains, and the backgrounds of the two victims.

Written as part of Rumpole's memoirs when he was an old man recalling his best cases (and he believes that this one "made" his career), this novel from 2004 includes background information to delight the seasoned Rumpole lover. C. H. Wystan's purposeful daughter, Hilda, watches his performance in court, sets the snares to capture him in marriage, and begins a hilarious "courtship." He first makes the acquaintance of the Timson family of thieves, for whom he continuously performs miracles in court throughout his career. His love of Wordsworth, echoing throughout the novel in his descriptions and asides, is obvious from the outset, and characters who continue throughout the Rumpole series appear here early in his career.

Though the story is well executed and great fun to read for its plot, the satire and wry humor are what make the novel come alive. The do-nothing barristers, their avoidance of work (and controversy!), their love of perks, their belief that they deserve them, and their assumption that they really are superior in every way, are fair game for the more dedicated young Rumpole, whose own arrogance is also part of the satire. Sarcasm is taken to new heights in the continuing dialogues in which Rumpole tells off his superiors, then admits that's what he wanted to say but didn't. A classic Rumpole novel, this one connects the early and later phases of Rumpole's career (and his life with Hilda), filling in some blanks and expanding the Rumpole persona. Mary Whipple


A LA RECHERCHE, 03 Nov 2007
After years of tantalising us with references to early stardom by Rumpole in re the Penge Bungalow Murders, Sir John Mortimer has finally decided to attach a story to the references. As usual, I lapped it up, and I doubt that any aficionado of either Rumpole or his author will feel disappointed with this new offering. It has the usual flavour of a Rumpole story, made up from the usual ingredients. For the benefit of newcomers, Horace Rumpole is a minor London barrister with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue whose stubborn if disillusioned refusal to eliminate the pursuit of justice from the pursuit of the law has been a barrier to greater career progression. Rumpole is married to Hilda, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, and he earns his daily bread mainly from being called on regularly to defend a family of minor non-violent criminals called the Timsons.

This tale, taking us back to the outset of Rumpole's career, has a sense about it of filling in details while there is still time to do that. As well as the Penge events, for instance, we learn how Rumpole gained his entry to his legal chambers, we are given our first introduction to the Timsons, and above all we observe the early wooing, not of Hilda by Rumpole but of Rumpole by Hilda. In case there are no more Rumpole stories, we have now no grounds for complaint that our curiosity has been left unsatisfied in any of these vital respects. However the main character in any Rumpole narrative is none of the foregoing - not even Rumpole - but Mortimer himself. Sir John is a champagne socialist and an intolerant liberal, characteristics that I for one find rather attractive. He parades his own prejudices, dislikes and resentments in this volume as in its predecessors, and we ought to know what to expect by now. At one level the author's detestation of cant and humbug ought, in my own opinion, to raise a favourable reaction in any fair-minded person. At another level responses may legitimately vary to Mortimer's bien-pensant snobbery in regard to such unfashionable suburbs as Penge and to such little-regarded vocations as bank-clerking, insurance sales and patio tiling.

My heart makes me want to award this book the full 5 stars, but it is my head that is telling me not to. Any Rumpole novel is largely satire and it would be ridiculous to demand too much verisimilitude. However there are limits, even here, to what I can swallow as legitimate distortions, and one such that goes over the top so far as I am concerned is the constant pillorying of the future father-in-law for his hypocritical invocations of his beloved `finest traditions of the bar'. Another is the actual denouement of the murder trial itself. Surely a judge so inclined to nitpicking in matters of relevance would hardly have tolerated such a far-fetched line of cross-examination by such a junior counsel? I can't help suspecting a touch of weariness and `let's-get-this-thing-finished' on the part of the elderly author, I must say.

For all that, the actual detective work struck me as quite convincing, and I was left with the right feeling of satisfaction that the mystery had been solved and a fair outcome ensured. As I have said, votaries of Rumpole or of Mortimer or of both are likely to enjoy this book as much as any of its forerunners. In the nature of the case we can't expect many more now, so enjoy.

Impossible to put down!, 12 Mar 2005
Throughout his long and distinguished career, John Mortimer's most famous character, Horace Rumpole, has mentioned his early and crowning victory of "the Penge Bungalow Murders." And now, after all these years, Rumpole has decided to write his memoirs, and tell of his great victory.

When two war heroes are found murdered in their nearby homes, the son of one of them becomes the prime suspect. Everything looks bleak for the young man, until fate decrees that his junior counsel should be a young, untried lawyer, Horace Rumpole. Rumpole's leader, C.H. Wystan, QC, plans to involve himself as little as possible, and lose with dignity. But, if there is one thing that Rumpole is not about to do, it is to lose with dignity. The main question is, if the accused didn't commit the murder, then who did? That is the question that Rumpole must answer if he is going to save the seemingly doomed young man.

My wife and I have been fans of Rumpole of the Bailey for years, both the television shows and the books, and we both greatly enjoyed this book. It is every bit as entertaining and thrilling as the earlier Rumpole stories, and is impossible to put down! Even besides the court case, my wife and I loved the peak into Rumpole's past - his meeting with Hilda (later "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed"), and his first defense of a member of the Timson clan.

Heck, even if you have never heard of Rumpole, if you like a good mystery, then this book is for you. It is very well written, and will keep you on the edge of your seat. My wife and I both love this book, and highly recommend it to you!

You Get Justice In The Next World. In This World You Get, 31 Jan 2005
Horace Rumpole!!!! And it is a good thing for any defendant facing a criminal charge in London to have the rumpled, oft-scorned, and much condescended to Horace Rumpole take up your defense against all comers.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole story, Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders takes us back to the great barrister's first big case. The story is told looking back after a conversation in chambers convinces Rumpole to write his memoirs. The story jumps back and forth between Rumpole's recollections of events interrupted only by the occasional (but highly amusing) bit of conversation with Hilda, she who must be obeyed, and his colleagues in chambers.

It is the early 1950s and Rumpole is young, eager, and ready to begin his career as a barrister He has found himself working for C.J. Wystan, the head of his chambers and the father of an assertive young daughter named Hilda. Simon Jerrold has been arrested and accused of the murder of his father and one of his father's friends. Each of the deceased flew for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and this was of no small consequence for the national press. All the evidence available points to Simon as the murderer. A conviction seems a certainty to all, including Simon's lead defense attorney, Wystan. Wystan has selected Rumpole to act as a silent assistant after Hilda suggests for some unknown reason that Rumpole is a man with a future in the law. It should surprise no one that Rumpole does not bow down to the conventional wisdom concerning his client's guilt. The story takes us through the remarkable series of events through which Rumpole assumes control of the defense and takes the case through trial.

As always, Mortimer writes with wit and verve. Mortimer first describes the appearance of Wystan as one that made him think of a "lobster who had been snatched from a peaceful existence at the bottom of the sea and plunged into boiling water." Followed immediately by a slight retraction, "but I have no wish to be overly critical of my future father-in-law."

By taking us back to his first case as a callow, slender youth Mortimer has invigorated and fleshed out (no pun intended) Rumpole considerably. We first came to know Rumpole as an aging overweight, hen-pecked curmudgeon who adheres to obsolete concepts of justice and the presumption of innocence when all around him expediency and decorum prevails. Mortimer shows us flashes of this in Penge Bungalow. We see the character traits: the wit, sarcasm and sense of fair play in its formative stages. We also find out how the young Ms. Hilda Wystan became the infamous she who must be obeyed. It is clear that once Hilda set her mind on something she is not easily denied.

The beauty of the Penge Bungalow Murders is our glimpse of Rumpole as a young man. His character is immediately recognizable. His body may have changed but his inner-self has remained constant. As one of Rumpole's favorite authors once said in Merchant of Venice, "I never knew so young a body with so old a head."

Rumpole and Penge Bungalow Murders is an excellent book. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Finally, the case that began it all...., 18 Oct 2004
It was with no little trepidation that I bought this book. As a practically lifelong fan of John Mortimer's greatest comic creation, Rumpole of the Bailey, it was no easy thing to open the book that proposed to tell the full story behind what had hitherto been "a name to conjure with", Rumpole's first and ever-after cited greatest triumph, The Penge Bungalow Murders, which Rumpole of course won "alone and without a leader!"

In one sense there was absolutely no way in which this book could fail to be a disappointment. To actually attach facts to this marvellous myth could almost be sacrilege, and there's no doubt that when revisiting passages from the previous stories in which Rumpole mentioned the Penge Bungalow murders, they will no doubt no longer have the same impact.

In a way, Mortimer has saddled himself with a particularly difficult problem. In accordance with reality (after all, nobody's perfect) Rumpole has never, unlike fictional detectives, been guaranteed to win his cases. In this case, however, there can be no surprise to the outcome, since Rumpole has never ceased talking about it in almost 30 years of books and TV series. Mortimer, however, does know what he is doing. Firstly he knows instinctively how to engage sympathy for the alleged perpetrator, and by combining this with the doubts exhibited by the "white wig" Rumpole (seasoned barristers never clean their wigs, so the greyer and more tattered the wig, the more experienced the lawyer) Mortimer successfully manages to introduce the necessary note of doubt and uncertainty for the maintenance of suspense. And secondly, experienced readers of Rumpole know that Mortimer is not averse to rounding off a Rumpolian triumph with a little sting in the tale, so one does stay on tenterhooks while reading.

One notable absence from this addition to the canon is the humour which normally characterises the stories of Rumpole (who has been described as one of the greatest comic creations in English Literature). Again, however, there are reasons that Rumpole fans should not be surprised. If there was one subject guaranteed to cause Horace Rumpole to drop his customary flippancy and cynicism, it was the death penalty; and as this story is set in the 1950s, when capital punishment was still the mandatory sentence for murder, the horror of the potential outcome feeds Rumpole's every thought. Mortimer is clearly also expressing long-suppressed feelings about senior defence barristers he encountered in the 1950s, who were rather more concerned with "maintaining the fine traditions of the bar" rather than doing anything substantial to help their clients, even in the event of capital cases. The anger he has felt all these decades is palpable and is certainly one of the reasons that this first ever novel-length Rumpole adventure is worth reading. Other elements of the Rumpole universe given a little more background include the origin of his long-standing relationship with the thieving Timsons of South London, and the precise circumstances of his marriage to the legendary She Who Must Be Obeyed, Hilda Wystan.

For the die-hard fans, I have to report a major omission. In Rumpole and the Expert Witness (included in Rumpole for the Defence, Penguin 1982) Rumpole defends Ned Dacre who is the son of Dr Harry Dacre, whom, in the story, Rumpole remembers as having given evidence in the Penge Bungalow case and having seen "my client's bruises." To save the curiosity of those who may have wondered if consistency would be maintained in the new novel, I'm afraid to have to report that neither Harry Dacre nor Rumpole's client's bruises feature in the case.

Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!, 31 Jan 2002
I first became a fan of Horace Rumpole courtesy of my countryman Leo McKern's portrayal of him in the television series. Later, another friend gave me a collection of Rumpole's stories, which I could not put down. It was with this in mind that I bought Mortimer's latest Rumpolian offering.
In short, Mortimer ensures that Rumpole's practice is never dull. I loved it.
Rumpy is up to his usual best. He charmingly remembers a former client made good in order to convince that client to donate to a charitable project without hesitation.
He is a friend to Claude Esrkine-Brown QC, after poor Claude is left by the former Portia of No 3 equity Court, and latterly Her Honour, Mrs Phillida Erskine-Brown QC for a romance with Rumpole's right wing politician client.
Horace defends a devout religious man who is alleged to have buried his new age wife under the floorboards some time back in the Age of Aquarius; Fixes on a plan to convince Soapy Sam Ballard, Head of Chambers, that Rumpole's small cigars should be allowed in Chambers; Bears the marital bliss presented to him by She Who Must Be Obeyed and recounts some other Rumpole magic amidst a supporting cast that any Rumpole fan will recall and enjoy.
When Rumpole gives perhaps his final oration to his jury, you might ask yourself: is this Rumpole's farewell?
Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!

A return to form, 19 Nov 2001
Bravo to John Mortimer . Rumpole is back on form bigstyle with a number of new stories with a contemporary edge . This is the best collection of new stories for a long while - although I was surprised to see HHJ Bullingham reappear having been told that he had retired long ago in an earlier collection .

All in all however an absolute treat .

Members of the Jury..., 08 Nov 2001
The most recent entry in John Mortimer's long-running "Rumpole of the Bailey" series features seven short stories. There's a slightly elegiac tone this time around--especially in the title story, which begins with Rumpole suffering a heart attack in court and ends on a note of resigned uncertainty. Indeed, Mortimer uses the running conflicts between youth and age, past and present, as the unifying themes in this collection: older characters conspire against younger ones, long-lost figures from days of youth come back to visit, and buried crimes from decades past return to light. Most amusingly, Samuel "Soapy Sam" Ballard turns out to have had a most unexpected previous life; Rumpole's attempt to blackmail him with it actually winds up liberating him just a wee bit.

As always, the stories take on topical issues: asylum seekers, e-mail stalking, multiculturalism, the hang-'em high crowd, shooting in self-defense ("Rumpole Rests His Case" seems rather indebted to a controversial real-life case), and anti-smoking activists. And as always, Rumpole comes out firmly on the side of the underdog--and on the side of universal justice. ("Rumpole and the Asylum Seekers" takes a good thwack at cultural relativism.)

Mortimer has not varied his formula here. Each story has a criminal case and a "private life" parallel, and the solution to one generally dovetails with the solution to the other. Unfortunately, the collection gets off to a rather bad start with the weak "Rumpole and the Old Familiar Faces," in which the parallels never come together adequately; as a result, the story reads like the equivalent of a run-on sentence. After that, however, things improve markedly, with some bona fide laugh-out-loud moments. This is not the best of the Rumpole collections, but reading it is certainly an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

"The best man I've ever known on bloodstains.", 23 Feb 2008
Horace Rumpole is a young "white wig," when he has his first chance to assist C. H. Wystan, his head of chambers, on a murder case. Idealistic and committed to providing an active defense of anyone accused of crime, Rumpole is appalled by Wystan's complete lack of interest in the case and by Wystan's attempts to get his client to plead guilty to a crime he insists he never committed. Rumpole's performance on a day when his superior is out of court inspires his young client to fire C. H. Wystan in favor of Rumpole, a breach of etiquette which could have ended Rumpole's career before it even got started.

The young client, Simon Jerold, is accused of murdering his war hero father and a fellow RAF pilot with a German Luger which his father kept as a war trophy. Witnesses had seen him threaten both men when they, drunk, had taunted Simon about his lack of "heroism" and made moves to "de-pants" him. C. H. Wystan's open-and-shut case becomes far more complicated when Rumpole investigates the circumstances of the murder, the patterns of the blood stains, and the backgrounds of the two victims.

Written as part of Rumpole's memoirs when he was an old man recalling his best cases (and he believes that this one "made" his career), this novel from 2004 includes background information to delight the seasoned Rumpole lover. C. H. Wystan's purposeful daughter, Hilda, watches his performance in court, sets the snares to capture him in marriage, and begins a hilarious "courtship." He first makes the acquaintance of the Timson family of thieves, for whom he continuously performs miracles in court throughout his career. His love of Wordsworth, echoing throughout the novel in his descriptions and asides, is obvious from the outset, and characters who continue throughout the Rumpole series appear here early in his career.

Though the story is well executed and great fun to read for its plot, the satire and wry humor are what make the novel come alive. The do-nothing barristers, their avoidance of work (and controversy!), their love of perks, their belief that they deserve them, and their assumption that they really are superior in every way, are fair game for the more dedicated young Rumpole, whose own arrogance is also part of the satire. Sarcasm is taken to new heights in the continuing dialogues in which Rumpole tells off his superiors, then admits that's what he wanted to say but didn't. A classic Rumpole novel, this one connects the early and later phases of Rumpole's career (and his life with Hilda), filling in some blanks and expanding the Rumpole persona. Mary Whipple


A LA RECHERCHE, 03 Nov 2007
After years of tantalising us with references to early stardom by Rumpole in re the Penge Bungalow Murders, Sir John Mortimer has finally decided to attach a story to the references. As usual, I lapped it up, and I doubt that any aficionado of either Rumpole or his author will feel disappointed with this new offering. It has the usual flavour of a Rumpole story, made up from the usual ingredients. For the benefit of newcomers, Horace Rumpole is a minor London barrister with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue whose stubborn if disillusioned refusal to eliminate the pursuit of justice from the pursuit of the law has been a barrier to greater career progression. Rumpole is married to Hilda, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, and he earns his daily bread mainly from being called on regularly to defend a family of minor non-violent criminals called the Timsons.

This tale, taking us back to the outset of Rumpole's career, has a sense about it of filling in details while there is still time to do that. As well as the Penge events, for instance, we learn how Rumpole gained his entry to his legal chambers, we are given our first introduction to the Timsons, and above all we observe the early wooing, not of Hilda by Rumpole but of Rumpole by Hilda. In case there are no more Rumpole stories, we have now no grounds for complaint that our curiosity has been left unsatisfied in any of these vital respects. However the main character in any Rumpole narrative is none of the foregoing - not even Rumpole - but Mortimer himself. Sir John is a champagne socialist and an intolerant liberal, characteristics that I for one find rather attractive. He parades his own prejudices, dislikes and resentments in this volume as in its predecessors, and we ought to know what to expect by now. At one level the author's detestation of cant and humbug ought, in my own opinion, to raise a favourable reaction in any fair-minded person. At another level responses may legitimately vary to Mortimer's bien-pensant snobbery in regard to such unfashionable suburbs as Penge and to such little-regarded vocations as bank-clerking, insurance sales and patio tiling.

My heart makes me want to award this book the full 5 stars, but it is my head that is telling me not to. Any Rumpole novel is largely satire and it would be ridiculous to demand too much verisimilitude. However there are limits, even here, to what I can swallow as legitimate distortions, and one such that goes over the top so far as I am concerned is the constant pillorying of the future father-in-law for his hypocritical invocations of his beloved `finest traditions of the bar'. Another is the actual denouement of the murder trial itself. Surely a judge so inclined to nitpicking in matters of relevance would hardly have tolerated such a far-fetched line of cross-examination by such a junior counsel? I can't help suspecting a touch of weariness and `let's-get-this-thing-finished' on the part of the elderly author, I must say.

For all that, the actual detective work struck me as quite convincing, and I was left with the right feeling of satisfaction that the mystery had been solved and a fair outcome ensured. As I have said, votaries of Rumpole or of Mortimer or of both are likely to enjoy this book as much as any of its forerunners. In the nature of the case we can't expect many more now, so enjoy.

Impossible to put down!, 12 Mar 2005
Throughout his long and distinguished career, John Mortimer's most famous character, Horace Rumpole, has mentioned his early and crowning victory of "the Penge Bungalow Murders." And now, after all these years, Rumpole has decided to write his memoirs, and tell of his great victory.

When two war heroes are found murdered in their nearby homes, the son of one of them becomes the prime suspect. Everything looks bleak for the young man, until fate decrees that his junior counsel should be a young, untried lawyer, Horace Rumpole. Rumpole's leader, C.H. Wystan, QC, plans to involve himself as little as possible, and lose with dignity. But, if there is one thing that Rumpole is not about to do, it is to lose with dignity. The main question is, if the accused didn't commit the murder, then who did? That is the question that Rumpole must answer if he is going to save the seemingly doomed young man.

My wife and I have been fans of Rumpole of the Bailey for years, both the television shows and the books, and we both greatly enjoyed this book. It is every bit as entertaining and thrilling as the earlier Rumpole stories, and is impossible to put down! Even besides the court case, my wife and I loved the peak into Rumpole's past - his meeting with Hilda (later "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed"), and his first defense of a member of the Timson clan.

Heck, even if you have never heard of Rumpole, if you like a good mystery, then this book is for you. It is very well written, and will keep you on the edge of your seat. My wife and I both love this book, and highly recommend it to you!

You Get Justice In The Next World. In This World You Get, 31 Jan 2005
Horace Rumpole!!!! And it is a good thing for any defendant facing a criminal charge in London to have the rumpled, oft-scorned, and much condescended to Horace Rumpole take up your defense against all comers.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole story, Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders takes us back to the great barrister's first big case. The story is told looking back after a conversation in chambers convinces Rumpole to write his memoirs. The story jumps back and forth between Rumpole's recollections of events interrupted only by the occasional (but highly amusing) bit of conversation with Hilda, she who must be obeyed, and his colleagues in chambers.

It is the early 1950s and Rumpole is young, eager, and ready to begin his career as a barrister He has found himself working for C.J. Wystan, the head of his chambers and the father of an assertive young daughter named Hilda. Simon Jerrold has been arrested and accused of the murder of his father and one of his father's friends. Each of the deceased flew for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and this was of no small consequence for the national press. All the evidence available points to Simon as the murderer. A conviction seems a certainty to all, including Simon's lead defense attorney, Wystan. Wystan has selected Rumpole to act as a silent assistant after Hilda suggests for some unknown reason that Rumpole is a man with a future in the law. It should surprise no one that Rumpole does not bow down to the conventional wisdom concerning his client's guilt. The story takes us through the remarkable series of events through which Rumpole assumes control of the defense and takes the case through trial.

As always, Mortimer writes with wit and verve. Mortimer first describes the appearance of Wystan as one that made him think of a "lobster who had been snatched from a peaceful existence at the bottom of the sea and plunged into boiling water." Followed immediately by a slight retraction, "but I have no wish to be overly critical of my future father-in-law."

By taking us back to his first case as a callow, slender youth Mortimer has invigorated and fleshed out (no pun intended) Rumpole considerably. We first came to know Rumpole as an aging overweight, hen-pecked curmudgeon who adheres to obsolete concepts of justice and the presumption of innocence when all around him expediency and decorum prevails. Mortimer shows us flashes of this in Penge Bungalow. We see the character traits: the wit, sarcasm and sense of fair play in its formative stages. We also find out how the young Ms. Hilda Wystan became the infamous she who must be obeyed. It is clear that once Hilda set her mind on something she is not easily denied.

The beauty of the Penge Bungalow Murders is our glimpse of Rumpole as a young man. His character is immediately recognizable. His body may have changed but his inner-self has remained constant. As one of Rumpole's favorite authors once said in Merchant of Venice, "I never knew so young a body with so old a head."

Rumpole and Penge Bungalow Murders is an excellent book. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Finally, the case that began it all...., 18 Oct 2004
It was with no little trepidation that I bought this book. As a practically lifelong fan of John Mortimer's greatest comic creation, Rumpole of the Bailey, it was no easy thing to open the book that proposed to tell the full story behind what had hitherto been "a name to conjure with", Rumpole's first and ever-after cited greatest triumph, The Penge Bungalow Murders, which Rumpole of course won "alone and without a leader!"

In one sense there was absolutely no way in which this book could fail to be a disappointment. To actually attach facts to this marvellous myth could almost be sacrilege, and there's no doubt that when revisiting passages from the previous stories in which Rumpole mentioned the Penge Bungalow murders, they will no doubt no longer have the same impact.

In a way, Mortimer has saddled himself with a particularly difficult problem. In accordance with reality (after all, nobody's perfect) Rumpole has never, unlike fictional detectives, been guaranteed to win his cases. In this case, however, there can be no surprise to the outcome, since Rumpole has never ceased talking about it in almost 30 years of books and TV series. Mortimer, however, does know what he is doing. Firstly he knows instinctively how to engage sympathy for the alleged perpetrator, and by combining this with the doubts exhibited by the "white wig" Rumpole (seasoned barristers never clean their wigs, so the greyer and more tattered the wig, the more experienced the lawyer) Mortimer successfully manages to introduce the necessary note of doubt and uncertainty for the maintenance of suspense. And secondly, experienced readers of Rumpole know that Mortimer is not averse to rounding off a Rumpolian triumph with a little sting in the tale, so one does stay on tenterhooks while reading.

One notable absence from this addition to the canon is the humour which normally characterises the stories of Rumpole (who has been described as one of the greatest comic creations in English Literature). Again, however, there are reasons that Rumpole fans should not be surprised. If there was one subject guaranteed to cause Horace Rumpole to drop his customary flippancy and cynicism, it was the death penalty; and as this story is set in the 1950s, when capital punishment was still the mandatory sentence for murder, the horror of the potential outcome feeds Rumpole's every thought. Mortimer is clearly also expressing long-suppressed feelings about senior defence barristers he encountered in the 1950s, who were rather more concerned with "maintaining the fine traditions of the bar" rather than doing anything substantial to help their clients, even in the event of capital cases. The anger he has felt all these decades is palpable and is certainly one of the reasons that this first ever novel-length Rumpole adventure is worth reading. Other elements of the Rumpole universe given a little more background include the origin of his long-standing relationship with the thieving Timsons of South London, and the precise circumstances of his marriage to the legendary She Who Must Be Obeyed, Hilda Wystan.

For the die-hard fans, I have to report a major omission. In Rumpole and the Expert Witness (included in Rumpole for the Defence, Penguin 1982) Rumpole defends Ned Dacre who is the son of Dr Harry Dacre, whom, in the story, Rumpole remembers as having given evidence in the Penge Bungalow case and having seen "my client's bruises." To save the curiosity of those who may have wondered if consistency would be maintained in the new novel, I'm afraid to have to report that neither Harry Dacre nor Rumpole's client's bruises feature in the case.

Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!, 31 Jan 2002
I first became a fan of Horace Rumpole courtesy of my countryman Leo McKern's portrayal of him in the television series. Later, another friend gave me a collection of Rumpole's stories, which I could not put down. It was with this in mind that I bought Mortimer's latest Rumpolian offering.
In short, Mortimer ensures that Rumpole's practice is never dull. I loved it.
Rumpy is up to his usual best. He charmingly remembers a former client made good in order to convince that client to donate to a charitable project without hesitation.
He is a friend to Claude Esrkine-Brown QC, after poor Claude is left by the former Portia of No 3 equity Court, and latterly Her Honour, Mrs Phillida Erskine-Brown QC for a romance with Rumpole's right wing politician client.
Horace defends a devout religious man who is alleged to have buried his new age wife under the floorboards some time back in the Age of Aquarius; Fixes on a plan to convince Soapy Sam Ballard, Head of Chambers, that Rumpole's small cigars should be allowed in Chambers; Bears the marital bliss presented to him by She Who Must Be Obeyed and recounts some other Rumpole magic amidst a supporting cast that any Rumpole fan will recall and enjoy.
When Rumpole gives perhaps his final oration to his jury, you might ask yourself: is this Rumpole's farewell?
Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!

A return to form, 19 Nov 2001
Bravo to John Mortimer . Rumpole is back on form bigstyle with a number of new stories with a contemporary edge . This is the best collection of new stories for a long while - although I was surprised to see HHJ Bullingham reappear having been told that he had retired long ago in an earlier collection .

All in all however an absolute treat .

Members of the Jury..., 08 Nov 2001
The most recent entry in John Mortimer's long-running "Rumpole of the Bailey" series features seven short stories. There's a slightly elegiac tone this time around--especially in the title story, which begins with Rumpole suffering a heart attack in court and ends on a note of resigned uncertainty. Indeed, Mortimer uses the running conflicts between youth and age, past and present, as the unifying themes in this collection: older characters conspire against younger ones, long-lost figures from days of youth come back to visit, and buried crimes from decades past return to light. Most amusingly, Samuel "Soapy Sam" Ballard turns out to have had a most unexpected previous life; Rumpole's attempt to blackmail him with it actually winds up liberating him just a wee bit.

As always, the stories take on topical issues: asylum seekers, e-mail stalking, multiculturalism, the hang-'em high crowd, shooting in self-defense ("Rumpole Rests His Case" seems rather indebted to a controversial real-life case), and anti-smoking activists. And as always, Rumpole comes out firmly on the side of the underdog--and on the side of universal justice. ("Rumpole and the Asylum Seekers" takes a good thwack at cultural relativism.)

Mortimer has not varied his formula here. Each story has a criminal case and a "private life" parallel, and the solution to one generally dovetails with the solution to the other. Unfortunately, the collection gets off to a rather bad start with the weak "Rumpole and the Old Familiar Faces," in which the parallels never come together adequately; as a result, the story reads like the equivalent of a run-on sentence. After that, however, things improve markedly, with some bona fide laugh-out-loud moments. This is not the best of the Rumpole collections, but reading it is certainly an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Interesting read but a bit dated and academic, 12 Dec 2008
I enjoyed reading the Bell. It depicts such a variety of human lives and mentalities it can't be but interesting. It discusses faith, gender relations, love and commitment in mid-20th century England. I will not give a detailed resume of the plot as it can be read above in the book description.

I am writing here to discuss the way the plot was presented by Murdoch. I can't help feeling that her style is clearly academic: thorough, concept-driven, methodical but not (in The Bell at least) innovative. Her prose is well written and well thought but her style in this book is somewhat trite.

Also the way Murdoch sees her characters is a bit too detached and critical for my taste, she feels for her character but she does not allow herself to empathize with them.

Worthy but... not worth it, 17 Mar 2008
I studied this book, not out of choice, so perhaps mine is just the typical resentful schoolboy attitude. As the reviews show, many people seem to have hugely enjoyed this book. I kind of bet that none of them are under 25, though. The overriding feel I got from The Bell was one of coldness - I felt that Murdoch was too busy trying to impress with academic and literary concepts to worry too much about creating likeable characters or rewarding her readers. The plot seemed to revolve around the troubled soul of a closeted gay man, the vague dissatisfaction of a self-centred housewife, and an old church bell that was to be dredged out of a lake. Seeing as I couldn't have cared less about the characters involved (well, maybe young Toby was quite sympathetic) or their setting, the plot was one big yawn to me, punctuated only by groans of frustration. It seemed idea-driven, with the characters dutifully constructed mouthpieces or models in an allegory. The issues it raises about innocence versus experience could surely be explored in a more compelling way or at least in a shorter book. I honestly wish I hadn't spent so many hours of my youth ploughing through it.

Strikes a chord (sorry...), 19 Oct 2007
Here is a book, almost fifty years old, that feels as fresh and urgent as the best contemporary fiction.

It is full of shocks. The first is the care and precision with which it is written; and the second is that it treats seriously - indeed profoundly - issues of faith, something from which recent novels, like society, tend to shy away.

The novel begins as a comedy of manners, centring upon young, flighty Dora Greenslade and her unpropitious marriage to an academic some years her senior. She is a young woman at sea in a society in a state of flux. Another shock of the novel is the perspicacity with which Murdoch locates and pre-empts the social and political changes that the Sixties will bring about. She is at once liberal in her empathy for different people - one hesitates to call them characters, so vividly do they leap from the page - whilst subjecting them to harsh scrutiny. Like those people in life whom we really know, Murdoch's characters are more real, more human and therefore more possible to love for our understanding of their virtues in spite and because of their faults.

Once located to Imber Court, a newly founded lay community that borders upon an abbey of nuns, the plot really begins to take hold. In some senses, Imber is Edenic, an earthly paradise; unfortunately, as we know, Paradise is rent asunder by earthly knowledge, specifically in the form of female sexuality. And thus another shock is how the novel moves from its slightly satirical gothic tone (think Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey) to very 'real' (by which I think I mean contemporary) concerns with love in its erotic and platonic (and competing) forms.

Some of the reviews posted here have taken issue with the book's "old-fashioned" or "outdated" views, particularly with regard to homosexuality. For me, another shock is the generosity and sympathy with which Murdoch draws the character of Michael, a man prematurely middle aged by dint of his thwarted (indeed, illegal) love. Whether she intended it or not, Murdoch's delineation of Michael appears to suggest that suppression of his true self thwarts his becoming a whole person. His erotic impulse is adolescent, and its object boys rather than men (first a 14-year-old, later an 18-year-old). Even today these boundaries are blurred; to be sympathetic to their impulse in 1958 seems to me quite remarkable.

By the close of the novel, erotic attraction has wreaked some devastating ends. And yet it doesn't feel heavy-handed or morally didactic. THE BELL shimmers with vivid pictures and imagery and emotion. I feel almost lost without this parallel world, and certainly less for having relinquished the intelligence, care and humanity with which words on the page conjured it and its inhabitants to life.

Who has all the answers? Whose fault is it?, 17 Mar 2006
I was reading The Bell whilst touring a play to churches around the country...It was a strange coincidence that it was grappling the themes that I was also exploring each night on stage, what is sacrifice? Who has all the answers? Whose fault is it?

Iris Murdoch has a gentle stillness to her pro's that allows you to view the characters in their unguarded, pure moments of non-communication. Her description takes you on a journey within the stream of consciousness of each character, she enables you to inhabit the body, the discomfort, the senuality. The reader experiences the physical and mental struggle of finding an answer, a meaning. Throughout The Bell the drama erupts when characters confront each others painfully constructed and often dysfunctional identities.

The Bell brings together a seemingly random group of people, who are all looking for a meaning in their day to day existence, they struggle with wants and desires, hopes and dreams, leading them all to either hide from or do combat with their demons...Loves enigma is a huge concept and both the innocent and experienced fall deeply into this age old mystery.

A slow start, but worth the read, 23 Aug 2005
Not one of the easiest books to start- it's just a description of Dora Greenfield's main history untill her arrival at Imber. But as the novel progresses, Murdoch slowly but surely develops each of the characters and there is a special magic about the rediscovery of the bell in the lake. I thought that the book would be quite wet, (not a joke, no!). Yet, Murdoch is not wimpy about what happens: a bastard of a husband, fraught hommosexual relationships, suicide, mental instibility- 'The Bell' is not a light read- I took it on holiday with me, and did not read it till I got home as I thought i'd struggle with it, but that was completely wrong. Murdoch's language is so that it carries you along smoothly from one scene to the next. A must read!

"The best man I've ever known on bloodstains.", 23 Feb 2008
Horace Rumpole is a young "white wig," when he has his first chance to assist C. H. Wystan, his head of chambers, on a murder case. Idealistic and committed to providing an active defense of anyone accused of crime, Rumpole is appalled by Wystan's complete lack of interest in the case and by Wystan's attempts to get his client to plead guilty to a crime he insists he never committed. Rumpole's performance on a day when his superior is out of court inspires his young client to fire C. H. Wystan in favor of Rumpole, a breach of etiquette which could have ended Rumpole's career before it even got started.

The young client, Simon Jerold, is accused of murdering his war hero father and a fellow RAF pilot with a German Luger which his father kept as a war trophy. Witnesses had seen him threaten both men when they, drunk, had taunted Simon about his lack of "heroism" and made moves to "de-pants" him. C. H. Wystan's open-and-shut case becomes far more complicated when Rumpole investigates the circumstances of the murder, the patterns of the blood stains, and the backgrounds of the two victims.

Written as part of Rumpole's memoirs when he was an old man recalling his best cases (and he believes that this one "made" his career), this novel from 2004 includes background information to delight the seasoned Rumpole lover. C. H. Wystan's purposeful daughter, Hilda, watches his performance in court, sets the snares to capture him in marriage, and begins a hilarious "courtship." He first makes the acquaintance of the Timson family of thieves, for whom he continuously performs miracles in court throughout his career. His love of Wordsworth, echoing throughout the novel in his descriptions and asides, is obvious from the outset, and characters who continue throughout the Rumpole series appear here early in his career.

Though the story is well executed and great fun to read for its plot, the satire and wry humor are what make the novel come alive. The do-nothing barristers, their avoidance of work (and controversy!), their love of perks, their belief that they deserve them, and their assumption that they really are superior in every way, are fair game for the more dedicated young Rumpole, whose own arrogance is also part of the satire. Sarcasm is taken to new heights in the continuing dialogues in which Rumpole tells off his superiors, then admits that's what he wanted to say but didn't. A classic Rumpole novel, this one connects the early and later phases of Rumpole's career (and his life with Hilda), filling in some blanks and expanding the Rumpole persona. Mary Whipple


A LA RECHERCHE, 03 Nov 2007
After years of tantalising us with references to early stardom by Rumpole in re the Penge Bungalow Murders, Sir John Mortimer has finally decided to attach a story to the references. As usual, I lapped it up, and I doubt that any aficionado of either Rumpole or his author will feel disappointed with this new offering. It has the usual flavour of a Rumpole story, made up from the usual ingredients. For the benefit of newcomers, Horace Rumpole is a minor London barrister with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue whose stubborn if disillusioned refusal to eliminate the pursuit of justice from the pursuit of the law has been a barrier to greater career progression. Rumpole is married to Hilda, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, and he earns his daily bread mainly from being called on regularly to defend a family of minor non-violent criminals called the Timsons.

This tale, taking us back to the outset of Rumpole's career, has a sense about it of filling in details while there is still time to do that. As well as the Penge events, for instance, we learn how Rumpole gained his entry to his legal chambers, we are given our first introduction to the Timsons, and above all we observe the early wooing, not of Hilda by Rumpole but of Rumpole by Hilda. In case there are no more Rumpole stories, we have now no grounds for complaint that our curiosity has been left unsatisfied in any of these vital respects. However the main character in any Rumpole narrative is none of the foregoing - not even Rumpole - but Mortimer himself. Sir John is a champagne socialist and an intolerant liberal, characteristics that I for one find rather attractive. He parades his own prejudices, dislikes and resentments in this volume as in its predecessors, and we ought to know what to expect by now. At one level the author's detestation of cant and humbug ought, in my own opinion, to raise a favourable reaction in any fair-minded person. At another level responses may legitimately vary to Mortimer's bien-pensant snobbery in regard to such unfashionable suburbs as Penge and to such little-regarded vocations as bank-clerking, insurance sales and patio tiling.

My heart makes me want to award this book the full 5 stars, but it is my head that is telling me not to. Any Rumpole novel is largely satire and it would be ridiculous to demand too much verisimilitude. However there are limits, even here, to what I can swallow as legitimate distortions, and one such that goes over the top so far as I am concerned is the constant pillorying of the future father-in-law for his hypocritical invocations of his beloved `finest traditions of the bar'. Another is the actual denouement of the murder trial itself. Surely a judge so inclined to nitpicking in matters of relevance would hardly have tolerated such a far-fetched line of cross-examination by such a junior counsel? I can't help suspecting a touch of weariness and `let's-get-this-thing-finished' on the part of the elderly author, I must say.

For all that, the actual detective work struck me as quite convincing, and I was left with the right feeling of satisfaction that the mystery had been solved and a fair outcome ensured. As I have said, votaries of Rumpole or of Mortimer or of both are likely to enjoy this book as much as any of its forerunners. In the nature of the case we can't expect many more now, so enjoy.

Impossible to put down!, 12 Mar 2005
Throughout his long and distinguished career, John Mortimer's most famous character, Horace Rumpole, has mentioned his early and crowning victory of "the Penge Bungalow Murders." And now, after all these years, Rumpole has decided to write his memoirs, and tell of his great victory.

When two war heroes are found murdered in their nearby homes, the son of one of them becomes the prime suspect. Everything looks bleak for the young man, until fate decrees that his junior counsel should be a young, untried lawyer, Horace Rumpole. Rumpole's leader, C.H. Wystan, QC, plans to involve himself as little as possible, and lose with dignity. But, if there is one thing that Rumpole is not about to do, it is to lose with dignity. The main question is, if the accused didn't commit the murder, then who did? That is the question that Rumpole must answer if he is going to save the seemingly doomed young man.

My wife and I have been fans of Rumpole of the Bailey for years, both the television shows and the books, and we both greatly enjoyed this book. It is every bit as entertaining and thrilling as the earlier Rumpole stories, and is impossible to put down! Even besides the court case, my wife and I loved the peak into Rumpole's past - his meeting with Hilda (later "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed"), and his first defense of a member of the Timson clan.

Heck, even if you have never heard of Rumpole, if you like a good mystery, then this book is for you. It is very well written, and will keep you on the edge of your seat. My wife and I both love this book, and highly recommend it to you!

You Get Justice In The Next World. In This World You Get, 31 Jan 2005
Horace Rumpole!!!! And it is a good thing for any defendant facing a criminal charge in London to have the rumpled, oft-scorned, and much condescended to Horace Rumpole take up your defense against all comers.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole story, Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders takes us back to the great barrister's first big case. The story is told looking back after a conversation in chambers convinces Rumpole to write his memoirs. The story jumps back and forth between Rumpole's recollections of events interrupted only by the occasional (but highly amusing) bit of conversation with Hilda, she who must be obeyed, and his colleagues in chambers.

It is the early 1950s and Rumpole is young, eager, and ready to begin his career as a barrister He has found himself working for C.J. Wystan, the head of his chambers and the father of an assertive young daughter named Hilda. Simon Jerrold has been arrested and accused of the murder of his father and one of his father's friends. Each of the deceased flew for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and this was of no small consequence for the national press. All the evidence available points to Simon as the murderer. A conviction seems a certainty to all, including Simon's lead defense attorney, Wystan. Wystan has selected Rumpole to act as a silent assistant after Hilda suggests for some unknown reason that Rumpole is a man with a future in the law. It should surprise no one that Rumpole does not bow down to the conventional wisdom concerning his client's guilt. The story takes us through the remarkable series of events through which Rumpole assumes control of the defense and takes the case through trial.

As always, Mortimer writes with wit and verve. Mortimer first describes the appearance of Wystan as one that made him think of a "lobster who had been snatched from a peaceful existence at the bottom of the sea and plunged into boiling water." Followed immediately by a slight retraction, "but I have no wish to be overly critical of my future father-in-law."

By taking us back to his first case as a callow, slender youth Mortimer has invigorated and fleshed out (no pun intended) Rumpole considerably. We first came to know Rumpole as an aging overweight, hen-pecked curmudgeon who adheres to obsolete concepts of justice and the presumption of innocence when all around him expediency and decorum prevails. Mortimer shows us flashes of this in Penge Bungalow. We see the character traits: the wit, sarcasm and sense of fair play in its formative stages. We also find out how the young Ms. Hilda Wystan became the infamous she who must be obeyed. It is clear that once Hilda set her mind on something she is not easily denied.

The beauty of the Penge Bungalow Murders is our glimpse of Rumpole as a young man. His character is immediately recognizable. His body may have changed but his inner-self has remained constant. As one of Rumpole's favorite authors once said in Merchant of Venice, "I never knew so young a body with so old a head."

Rumpole and Penge Bungalow Murders is an excellent book. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Finally, the case that began it all...., 18 Oct 2004
It was with no little trepidation that I bought this book. As a practically lifelong fan of John Mortimer's greatest comic creation, Rumpole of the Bailey, it was no easy thing to open the book that proposed to tell the full story behind what had hitherto been "a name to conjure with", Rumpole's first and ever-after cited greatest triumph, The Penge Bungalow Murders, which Rumpole of course won "alone and without a leader!"

In one sense there was absolutely no way in which this book could fail to be a disappointment. To actually attach facts to this marvellous myth could almost be sacrilege, and there's no doubt that when revisiting passages from the previous stories in which Rumpole mentioned the Penge Bungalow murders, they will no doubt no longer have the same impact.

In a way, Mortimer has saddled himself with a particularly difficult problem. In accordance with reality (after all, nobody's perfect) Rumpole has never, unlike fictional detectives, been guaranteed to win his cases. In this case, however, there can be no surprise to the outcome, since Rumpole has never ceased talking about it in almost 30 years of books and TV series. Mortimer, however, does know what he is doing. Firstly he knows instinctively how to engage sympathy for the alleged perpetrator, and by combining this with the doubts exhibited by the "white wig" Rumpole (seasoned barristers never clean their wigs, so the greyer and more tattered the wig, the more experienced the lawyer) Mortimer successfully manages to introduce the necessary note of doubt and uncertainty for the maintenance of suspense. And secondly, experienced readers of Rumpole know that Mortimer is not averse to rounding off a Rumpolian triumph with a little sting in the tale, so one does stay on tenterhooks while reading.

One notable absence from this addition to the canon is the humour which normally characterises the stories of Rumpole (who has been described as one of the greatest comic creations in English Literature). Again, however, there are reasons that Rumpole fans should not be surprised. If there was one subject guaranteed to cause Horace Rumpole to drop his customary flippancy and cynicism, it was the death penalty; and as this story is set in the 1950s, when capital punishment was still the mandatory sentence for murder, the horror of the potential outcome feeds Rumpole's every thought. Mortimer is clearly also expressing long-suppressed feelings about senior defence barristers he encountered in the 1950s, who were rather more concerned with "maintaining the fine traditions of the bar" rather than doing anything substantial to help their clients, even in the event of capital cases. The anger he has felt all these decades is palpable and is certainly one of the reasons that this first ever novel-length Rumpole adventure is worth reading. Other elements of the Rumpole universe given a little more background include the origin of his long-standing relationship with the thieving Timsons of South London, and the precise circumstances of his marriage to the legendary She Who Must Be Obeyed, Hilda Wystan.

For the die-hard fans, I have to report a major omission. In Rumpole and the Expert Witness (included in Rumpole for the Defence, Penguin 1982) Rumpole defends Ned Dacre who is the son of Dr Harry Dacre, whom, in the story, Rumpole remembers as having given evidence in the Penge Bungalow case and having seen "my client's bruises." To save the curiosity of those who may have wondered if consistency would be maintained in the new novel, I'm afraid to have to report that neither Harry Dacre nor Rumpole's client's bruises feature in the case.

Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!, 31 Jan 2002
I first became a fan of Horace Rumpole courtesy of my countryman Leo McKern's portrayal of him in the television series. Later, another friend gave me a collection of Rumpole's stories, which I could not put down. It was with this in mind that I bought Mortimer's latest Rumpolian offering.
In short, Mortimer ensures that Rumpole's practice is never dull. I loved it.
Rumpy is up to his usual best. He charmingly remembers a former client made good in order to convince that client to donate to a charitable project without hesitation.
He is a friend to Claude Esrkine-Brown QC, after poor Claude is left by the former Portia of No 3 equity Court, and latterly Her Honour, Mrs Phillida Erskine-Brown QC for a romance with Rumpole's right wing politician client.
Horace defends a devout religious man who is alleged to have buried his new age wife under the floorboards some time back in the Age of Aquarius; Fixes on a plan to convince Soapy Sam Ballard, Head of Chambers, that Rumpole's small cigars should be allowed in Chambers; Bears the marital bliss presented to him by She Who Must Be Obeyed and recounts some other Rumpole magic amidst a supporting cast that any Rumpole fan will recall and enjoy.
When Rumpole gives perhaps his final oration to his jury, you might ask yourself: is this Rumpole's farewell?
Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!

A return to form, 19 Nov 2001
Bravo to John Mortimer . Rumpole is back on form bigstyle with a number of new stories with a contemporary edge . This is the best collection of new stories for a long while - although I was surprised to see HHJ Bullingham reappear having been told that he had retired long ago in an earlier collection .

All in all however an absolute treat .

Members of the Jury..., 08 Nov 2001
The most recent entry in John Mortimer's long-running "Rumpole of the Bailey" series features seven short stories. There's a slightly elegiac tone this time around--especially in the title story, which begins with Rumpole suffering a heart attack in court and ends on a note of resigned uncertainty. Indeed, Mortimer uses the running conflicts between youth and age, past and present, as the unifying themes in this collection: older characters conspire against younger ones, long-lost figures from days of youth come back to visit, and buried crimes from decades past return to light. Most amusingly, Samuel "Soapy Sam" Ballard turns out to have had a most unexpected previous life; Rumpole's attempt to blackmail him with it actually winds up liberating him just a wee bit.

As always, the stories take on topical issues: asylum seekers, e-mail stalking, multiculturalism, the hang-'em high crowd, shooting in self-defense ("Rumpole Rests His Case" seems rather indebted to a controversial real-life case), and anti-smoking activists. And as always, Rumpole comes out firmly on the side of the underdog--and on the side of universal justice. ("Rumpole and the Asylum Seekers" takes a good thwack at cultural relativism.)

Mortimer has not varied his formula here. Each story has a criminal case and a "private life" parallel, and the solution to one generally dovetails with the solution to the other. Unfortunately, the collection gets off to a rather bad start with the weak "Rumpole and the Old Familiar Faces," in which the parallels never come together adequately; as a result, the story reads like the equivalent of a run-on sentence. After that, however, things improve markedly, with some bona fide laugh-out-loud moments. This is not the best of the Rumpole collections, but reading it is certainly an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Interesting read but a bit dated and academic, 12 Dec 2008
I enjoyed reading the Bell. It depicts such a variety of human lives and mentalities it can't be but interesting. It discusses faith, gender relations, love and commitment in mid-20th century England. I will not give a detailed resume of the plot as it can be read above in the book description.

I am writing here to discuss the way the plot was presented by Murdoch. I can't help feeling that her style is clearly academic: thorough, concept-driven, methodical but not (in The Bell at least) innovative. Her prose is well written and well thought but her style in this book is somewhat trite.

Also the way Murdoch sees her characters is a bit too detached and critical for my taste, she feels for her character but she does not allow herself to empathize with them.

Worthy but... not worth it, 17 Mar 2008
I studied this book, not out of choice, so perhaps mine is just the typical resentful schoolboy attitude. As the reviews show, many people seem to have hugely enjoyed this book. I kind of bet that none of them are under 25, though. The overriding feel I got from The Bell was one of coldness - I felt that Murdoch was too busy trying to impress with academic and literary concepts to worry too much about creating likeable characters or rewarding her readers. The plot seemed to revolve around the troubled soul of a closeted gay man, the vague dissatisfaction of a self-centred housewife, and an old church bell that was to be dredged out of a lake. Seeing as I couldn't have cared less about the characters involved (well, maybe young Toby was quite sympathetic) or their setting, the plot was one big yawn to me, punctuated only by groans of frustration. It seemed idea-driven, with the characters dutifully constructed mouthpieces or models in an allegory. The issues it raises about innocence versus experience could surely be explored in a more compelling way or at least in a shorter book. I honestly wish I hadn't spent so many hours of my youth ploughing through it.

Strikes a chord (sorry...), 19 Oct 2007
Here is a book, almost fifty years old, that feels as fresh and urgent as the best contemporary fiction.

It is full of shocks. The first is the care and precision with which it is written; and the second is that it treats seriously - indeed profoundly - issues of faith, something from which recent novels, like society, tend to shy away.

The novel begins as a comedy of manners, centring upon young, flighty Dora Greenslade and her unpropitious marriage to an academic some years her senior. She is a young woman at sea in a society in a state of flux. Another shock of the novel is the perspicacity with which Murdoch locates and pre-empts the social and political changes that the Sixties will bring about. She is at once liberal in her empathy for different people - one hesitates to call them characters, so vividly do they leap from the page - whilst subjecting them to harsh scrutiny. Like those people in life whom we really know, Murdoch's characters are more real, more human and therefore more possible to love for our understanding of their virtues in spite and because of their faults.

Once located to Imber Court, a newly founded lay community that borders upon an abbey of nuns, the plot really begins to take hold. In some senses, Imber is Edenic, an earthly paradise; unfortunately, as we know, Paradise is rent asunder by earthly knowledge, specifically in the form of female sexuality. And thus another shock is how the novel moves from its slightly satirical gothic tone (think Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey) to very 'real' (by which I think I mean contemporary) concerns with love in its erotic and platonic (and competing) forms.

Some of the reviews posted here have taken issue with the book's "old-fashioned" or "outdated" views, particularly with regard to homosexuality. For me, another shock is the generosity and sympathy with which Murdoch draws the character of Michael, a man prematurely middle aged by dint of his thwarted (indeed, illegal) love. Whether she intended it or not, Murdoch's delineation of Michael appears to suggest that suppression of his true self thwarts his becoming a whole person. His erotic impulse is adolescent, and its object boys rather than men (first a 14-year-old, later an 18-year-old). Even today these boundaries are blurred; to be sympathetic to their impulse in 1958 seems to me quite remarkable.

By the close of the novel, erotic attraction has wreaked some devastating ends. And yet it doesn't feel heavy-handed or morally didactic. THE BELL shimmers with vivid pictures and imagery and emotion. I feel almost lost without this parallel world, and certainly less for having relinquished the intelligence, care and humanity with which words on the page conjured it and its inhabitants to life.

Who has all the answers? Whose fault is it?, 17 Mar 2006
I was reading The Bell whilst touring a play to churches around the country...It was a strange coincidence that it was grappling the themes that I was also exploring each night on stage, what is sacrifice? Who has all the answers? Whose fault is it?

Iris Murdoch has a gentle stillness to her pro's that allows you to view the characters in their unguarded, pure moments of non-communication. Her description takes you on a journey within the stream of consciousness of each character, she enables you to inhabit the body, the discomfort, the senuality. The reader experiences the physical and mental struggle of finding an answer, a meaning. Throughout The Bell the drama erupts when characters confront each others painfully constructed and often dysfunctional identities.

The Bell brings together a seemingly random group of people, who are all looking for a meaning in their day to day existence, they struggle with wants and desires, hopes and dreams, leading them all to either hide from or do combat with their demons...Loves enigma is a huge concept and both the innocent and experienced fall deeply into this age old mystery.

A slow start, but worth the read, 23 Aug 2005
Not one of the easiest books to start- it's just a description of Dora Greenfield's main history untill her arrival at Imber. But as the novel progresses, Murdoch slowly but surely develops each of the characters and there is a special magic about the rediscovery of the bell in the lake. I thought that the book would be quite wet, (not a joke, no!). Yet, Murdoch is not wimpy about what happens: a bastard of a husband, fraught hommosexual relationships, suicide, mental instibility- 'The Bell' is not a light read- I took it on holiday with me, and did not read it till I got home as I thought i'd struggle with it, but that was completely wrong. Murdoch's language is so that it carries you along smoothly from one scene to the next. A must read!

Doesn't Disappoint, 05 Nov 2003
I first happened across the Rumpole books a decade or so ago, and each offering has been a gem. John Mortimer, as usual, takes the opportunity to use Rumpole as a vehicle to cast a satirical eye over (relatively) recent political and legal issues. Equally, however, each story stands on its own merits irrespective of whether one recognises the real world events which provide the backdrop.
The usual cast of characters, who will be familiar to readers of previous books, are present together with a new arrival or two.
The only issue I have with this book (and with some of the Rumpole series in general) is the sometimes extraordinary series of co-incidences upon which the plot resolution depends - chance meetings, mutual aquantances etc. Still, providing the reader is sufficiently willing to suspend their disbelief, Rumpole remains a joy to read.

"The best man I've ever known on bloodstains.", 23 Feb 2008
Horace Rumpole is a young "white wig," when he has his first chance to assist C. H. Wystan, his head of chambers, on a murder case. Idealistic and committed to providing an active defense of anyone accused of crime, Rumpole is appalled by Wystan's complete lack of interest in the case and by Wystan's attempts to get his client to plead guilty to a crime he insists he never committed. Rumpole's performance on a day when his superior is out of court inspires his young client to fire C. H. Wystan in favor of Rumpole, a breach of etiquette which could have ended Rumpole's career before it even got started.

The young client, Simon Jerold, is accused of murdering his war hero father and a fellow RAF pilot with a German Luger which his father kept as a war trophy. Witnesses had seen him threaten both men when they, drunk, had taunted Simon about his lack of "heroism" and made moves to "de-pants" him. C. H. Wystan's open-and-shut case becomes far more complicated when Rumpole investigates the circumstances of the murder, the patterns of the blood stains, and the backgrounds of the two victims.

Written as part of Rumpole's memoirs when he was an old man recalling his best cases (and he believes that this one "made" his career), this novel from 2004 includes background information to delight the seasoned Rumpole lover. C. H. Wystan's purposeful daughter, Hilda, watches his performance in court, sets the snares to capture him in marriage, and begins a hilarious "courtship." He first makes the acquaintance of the Timson family of thieves, for whom he continuously performs miracles in court throughout his career. His love of Wordsworth, echoing throughout the novel in his descriptions and asides, is obvious from the outset, and characters who continue throughout the Rumpole series appear here early in his career.

Though the story is well executed and great fun to read for its plot, the satire and wry humor are what make the novel come alive. The do-nothing barristers, their avoidance of work (and controversy!), their love of perks, their belief that they deserve them, and their assumption that they really are superior in every way, are fair game for the more dedicated young Rumpole, whose own arrogance is also part of the satire. Sarcasm is taken to new heights in the continuing dialogues in which Rumpole tells off his superiors, then admits that's what he wanted to say but didn't. A classic Rumpole novel, this one connects the early and later phases of Rumpole's career (and his life with Hilda), filling in some blanks and expanding the Rumpole persona. Mary Whipple


A LA RECHERCHE, 03 Nov 2007
After years of tantalising us with references to early stardom by Rumpole in re the Penge Bungalow Murders, Sir John Mortimer has finally decided to attach a story to the references. As usual, I lapped it up, and I doubt that any aficionado of either Rumpole or his author will feel disappointed with this new offering. It has the usual flavour of a Rumpole story, made up from the usual ingredients. For the benefit of newcomers, Horace Rumpole is a minor London barrister with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue whose stubborn if disillusioned refusal to eliminate the pursuit of justice from the pursuit of the law has been a barrier to greater career progression. Rumpole is married to Hilda, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, and he earns his daily bread mainly from being called on regularly to defend a family of minor non-violent criminals called the Timsons.

This tale, taking us back to the outset of Rumpole's career, has a sense about it of filling in details while there is still time to do that. As well as the Penge events, for instance, we learn how Rumpole gained his entry to his legal chambers, we are given our first introduction to the Timsons, and above all we observe the early wooing, not of Hilda by Rumpole but of Rumpole by Hilda. In case there are no more Rumpole stories, we have now no grounds for complaint that our curiosity has been left unsatisfied in any of these vital respects. However the main character in any Rumpole narrative is none of the foregoing - not even Rumpole - but Mortimer himself. Sir John is a champagne socialist and an intolerant liberal, characteristics that I for one find rather attractive. He parades his own prejudices, dislikes and resentments in this volume as in its predecessors, and we ought to know what to expect by now. At one level the author's detestation of cant and humbug ought, in my own opinion, to raise a favourable reaction in any fair-minded person. At another level responses may legitimately vary to Mortimer's bien-pensant snobbery in regard to such unfashionable suburbs as Penge and to such little-regarded vocations as bank-clerking, insurance sales and patio tiling.

My heart makes me want to award this book the full 5 stars, but it is my head that is telling me not to. Any Rumpole novel is largely satire and it would be ridiculous to demand too much verisimilitude. However there are limits, even here, to what I can swallow as legitimate distortions, and one such that goes over the top so far as I am concerned is the constant pillorying of the future father-in-law for his hypocritical invocations of his beloved `finest traditions of the bar'. Another is the actual denouement of the murder trial itself. Surely a judge so inclined to nitpicking in matters of relevance would hardly have tolerated such a far-fetched line of cross-examination by such a junior counsel? I can't help suspecting a touch of weariness and `let's-get-this-thing-finished' on the part of the elderly author, I must say.

For all that, the actual detective work struck me as quite convincing, and I was left with the right feeling of satisfaction that the mystery had been solved and a fair outcome ensured. As I have said, votaries of Rumpole or of Mortimer or of both are likely to enjoy this book as much as any of its forerunners. In the nature of the case we can't expect many more now, so enjoy.

Impossible to put down!, 12 Mar 2005
Throughout his long and distinguished career, John Mortimer's most famous character, Horace Rumpole, has mentioned his early and crowning victory of "the Penge Bungalow Murders." And now, after all these years, Rumpole has decided to write his memoirs, and tell of his great victory.

When two war heroes are found murdered in their nearby homes, the son of one of them becomes the prime suspect. Everything looks bleak for the young man, until fate decrees that his junior counsel should be a young, untried lawyer, Horace Rumpole. Rumpole's leader, C.H. Wystan, QC, plans to involve himself as little as possible, and lose with dignity. But, if there is one thing that Rumpole is not about to do, it is to lose with dignity. The main question is, if the accused didn't commit the murder, then who did? That is the question that Rumpole must answer if he is going to save the seemingly doomed young man.

My wife and I have been fans of Rumpole of the Bailey for years, both the television shows and the books, and we both greatly enjoyed this book. It is every bit as entertaining and thrilling as the earlier Rumpole stories, and is impossible to put down! Even besides the court case, my wife and I loved the peak into Rumpole's past - his meeting with Hilda (later "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed"), and his first defense of a member of the Timson clan.

Heck, even if you have never heard of Rumpole, if you like a good mystery, then this book is for you. It is very well written, and will keep you on the edge of your seat. My wife and I both love this book, and highly recommend it to you!

You Get Justice In The Next World. In This World You Get, 31 Jan 2005
Horace Rumpole!!!! And it is a good thing for any defendant facing a criminal charge in London to have the rumpled, oft-scorned, and much condescended to Horace Rumpole take up your defense against all comers.

John Mortimer's latest Rumpole story, Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders takes us back to the great barrister's first big case. The story is told looking back after a conversation in chambers convinces Rumpole to write his memoirs. The story jumps back and forth between Rumpole's recollections of events interrupted only by the occasional (but highly amusing) bit of conversation with Hilda, she who must be obeyed, and his colleagues in chambers.

It is the early 1950s and Rumpole is young, eager, and ready to begin his career as a barrister He has found himself working for C.J. Wystan, the head of his chambers and the father of an assertive young daughter named Hilda. Simon Jerrold has been arrested and accused of the murder of his father and one of his father's friends. Each of the deceased flew for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and this was of no small consequence for the national press. All the evidence available points to Simon as the murderer. A conviction seems a certainty to all, including Simon's lead defense attorney, Wystan. Wystan has selected Rumpole to act as a silent assistant after Hilda suggests for some unknown reason that Rumpole is a man with a future in the law. It should surprise no one that Rumpole does not bow down to the conventional wisdom concerning his client's guilt. The story takes us through the remarkable series of events through which Rumpole assumes control of the defense and takes the case through trial.

As always, Mortimer writes with wit and verve. Mortimer first describes the appearance of Wystan as one that made him think of a "lobster who had been snatched from a peaceful existence at the bottom of the sea and plunged into boiling water." Followed immediately by a slight retraction, "but I have no wish to be overly critical of my future father-in-law."

By taking us back to his first case as a callow, slender youth Mortimer has invigorated and fleshed out (no pun intended) Rumpole considerably. We first came to know Rumpole as an aging overweight, hen-pecked curmudgeon who adheres to obsolete concepts of justice and the presumption of innocence when all around him expediency and decorum prevails. Mortimer shows us flashes of this in Penge Bungalow. We see the character traits: the wit, sarcasm and sense of fair play in its formative stages. We also find out how the young Ms. Hilda Wystan became the infamous she who must be obeyed. It is clear that once Hilda set her mind on something she is not easily denied.

The beauty of the Penge Bungalow Murders is our glimpse of Rumpole as a young man. His character is immediately recognizable. His body may have changed but his inner-self has remained constant. As one of Rumpole's favorite authors once said in Merchant of Venice, "I never knew so young a body with so old a head."

Rumpole and Penge Bungalow Murders is an excellent book. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Finally, the case that began it all...., 18 Oct 2004
It was with no little trepidation that I bought this book. As a practically lifelong fan of John Mortimer's greatest comic creation, Rumpole of the Bailey, it was no easy thing to open the book that proposed to tell the full story behind what had hitherto been "a name to conjure with", Rumpole's first and ever-after cited greatest triumph, The Penge Bungalow Murders, which Rumpole of course won "alone and without a leader!"

In one sense there was absolutely no way in which this book could fail to be a disappointment. To actually attach facts to this marvellous myth could almost be sacrilege, and there's no doubt that when revisiting passages from the previous stories in which Rumpole mentioned the Penge Bungalow murders, they will no doubt no longer have the same impact.

In a way, Mortimer has saddled himself with a particularly difficult problem. In accordance with reality (after all, nobody's perfect) Rumpole has never, unlike fictional detectives, been guaranteed to win his cases. In this case, however, there can be no surprise to the outcome, since Rumpole has never ceased talking about it in almost 30 years of books and TV series. Mortimer, however, does know what he is doing. Firstly he knows instinctively how to engage sympathy for the alleged perpetrator, and by combining this with the doubts exhibited by the "white wig" Rumpole (seasoned barristers never clean their wigs, so the greyer and more tattered the wig, the more experienced the lawyer) Mortimer successfully manages to introduce the necessary note of doubt and uncertainty for the maintenance of suspense. And secondly, experienced readers of Rumpole know that Mortimer is not averse to rounding off a Rumpolian triumph with a little sting in the tale, so one does stay on tenterhooks while reading.

One notable absence from this addition to the canon is the humour which normally characterises the stories of Rumpole (who has been described as one of the greatest comic creations in English Literature). Again, however, there are reasons that Rumpole fans should not be surprised. If there was one subject guaranteed to cause Horace Rumpole to drop his customary flippancy and cynicism, it was the death penalty; and as this story is set in the 1950s, when capital punishment was still the mandatory sentence for murder, the horror of the potential outcome feeds Rumpole's every thought. Mortimer is clearly also expressing long-suppressed feelings about senior defence barristers he encountered in the 1950s, who were rather more concerned with "maintaining the fine traditions of the bar" rather than doing anything substantial to help their clients, even in the event of capital cases. The anger he has felt all these decades is palpable and is certainly one of the reasons that this first ever novel-length Rumpole adventure is worth reading. Other elements of the Rumpole universe given a little more background include the origin of his long-standing relationship with the thieving Timsons of South London, and the precise circumstances of his marriage to the legendary She Who Must Be Obeyed, Hilda Wystan.

For the die-hard fans, I have to report a major omission. In Rumpole and the Expert Witness (included in Rumpole for the Defence, Penguin 1982) Rumpole defends Ned Dacre who is the son of Dr Harry Dacre, whom, in the story, Rumpole remembers as having given evidence in the Penge Bungalow case and having seen "my client's bruises." To save the curiosity of those who may have wondered if consistency would be maintained in the new novel, I'm afraid to have to report that neither Harry Dacre nor Rumpole's client's bruises feature in the case.

Please No, Not Yet Mr Rumpole!, 31 Jan 2002
I first became a fan of Horace Rumpole courtesy of my countryman Leo McKern's portrayal of him in the television series. Later, another friend gave me a collection of Rumpole's stories, which I could not put down. It was with this in mind that I bought Mortimer's latest Rumpolian offering.
In short, Mortimer ensures that Rumpole's practice is never dull. I loved it.
Rumpy is up to his usual best. He charmingly remembers a former client made good in order to convince that client to donate to a charitable project without hesitation.
He is a friend to Claude Esrkine-Brown QC, after poor Claude is left by the former Portia of No 3 equity Court, and latterly Her Honour, Mrs Phillida Erskine-Brown QC for a romance with Rumpole's right wing politician client.
Horace defends a devout religious man who is