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Justice: Crimes, Trials, and Punishments
For more than two decades, Vanity Fair has published Dominick Dunne's brilliant, revelatory chronicles of the most famous crimes, trials, and punishments of our time. The pursuit of justice has become his passion — a passion that began during the trial of the man who murdered Dunne's daughter and who was sentenced to six and a half years and released in less than three. Dunne's account of that trial and its shocking result became the first of his many classic essays on justice.
Dominick Dunne's essays do much more than simply describe; his investigations have shed new light on those crimes and their perpetrators — and demonstrated how it is possible for some to skirt, even flout, the law. His persistence and personal involvement in the matter of Martha Moxley's murder was an important catalyst in bringing a dormant case back to life.
Here in one volume are Dominick Dunne's mesmerizing tales of justice denied and justice affirmed. Whether writing of Vicki Morgan's hideous death; Claus von Bülow's romp through two trials; the media frenzy of Los Angeles in the age of O.J. Simpson; the death by fire of multibillionaire banker Edmund Safra in Monaco; or the ominous silence surrounding the death of Martha Moxley in Greenwich, Connecticut, and the indictment — decades later — of Michael Skakel, Dominick Dunne tells it honestly and tells it from his unique perspective. His search for the truth is relentless. His courage and his storytelling skills shine from every page.
Dominick Dunne's essays do much more than simply describe; his investigations have shed new light on those crimes and their perpetrators — and demonstrated how it is possible for some to skirt, even flout, the law. His persistence and personal involvement in the matter of Martha Moxley's murder was an important catalyst in bringing a dormant case back to life.
Here in one volume are Dominick Dunne's mesmerizing tales of justice denied and justice affirmed. Whether writing of Vicki Morgan's hideous death; Claus von Bülow's romp through two trials; the media frenzy of Los Angeles in the age of O.J. Simpson; the death by fire of multibillionaire banker Edmund Safra in Monaco; or the ominous silence surrounding the death of Martha Moxley in Greenwich, Connecticut, and the indictment — decades later — of Michael Skakel, Dominick Dunne tells it honestly and tells it from his unique perspective. His search for the truth is relentless. His courage and his storytelling skills shine from every page.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2001
283 people are currently reading
1720 people want to read
About the author
Dominick Dunne
48 books343 followersDominick Dunne was an American writer and investigative journalist whose subjects frequently hinged on the ways high society interacts with the judiciary system. He was a producer in Hollywood and is also known from his frequent appearances on television.
After his studies at Williams College and service in World War II, Dunne moved to New York, then to Hollywood, where he directed Playhouse 90 and became vice president of Four Star Pictures. He hobnobbed with the rich and the famous of those days. In 1979, he left Hollywood, moved to Oregon, and wrote his first book, The Winners. In November 1982, his actress daughter, Dominique Dunne, was murdered. Dunne attended the trial of her murderer (John Thomas Sweeney) and subsequently wrote Justice: A Father's Account of the Trial of his Daughter's Killer.
After his studies at Williams College and service in World War II, Dunne moved to New York, then to Hollywood, where he directed Playhouse 90 and became vice president of Four Star Pictures. He hobnobbed with the rich and the famous of those days. In 1979, he left Hollywood, moved to Oregon, and wrote his first book, The Winners. In November 1982, his actress daughter, Dominique Dunne, was murdered. Dunne attended the trial of her murderer (John Thomas Sweeney) and subsequently wrote Justice: A Father's Account of the Trial of his Daughter's Killer.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 174 reviews
April 15, 2013
Or subtitled, "Rich People Behaving Horribly." Dunne is not a great writer, and even if Vanity Fair published these essays previously, they are nonetheless little more than gossipy accounts of sensational crimes and trials that attracted the magazine's core readership and let them feel as if they were sitting with the author at some upscale cafe, chatting away about the dirt he had picked up. Yes, some of it is interesting and sordid, but Dunne does not come close to true crime writers, in my opinion. I got tired of the OJ pieces, probably because the nation was saturated (perhaps readers who were not bombarded during the period will find them more interesting). Some of his reporting is confusing at times, and much of it seems to be simply his attempt to confirm that he was still part of this society, that he was in the know and relevant. I wouldn't discourage people from reading this book, but some of the high ratings given to it surprise me.
April 7, 2012
When Dominique Dunne, daughter of Dominick and his ex-wife, Ellen ("Lenny"), was murdered, news accounts emphasized that she was the niece of writers John Gregory Dunne and Joan Didion. Dominick Dunne complained to a publicist friend of his who convinced media organizations to change their approach. "It's hurtful to us," Dunne said. "It's as if we had not only lost her but been denied parentage as well."
A few pages later in his essay about the murder trial of his daughter's killer, Dunne refers to murdered journalist Sarai Ribicoff. He describes her only as the "niece of Senator Abraham Ribicoff."
Dunne's obliviousness to the feelings of others taints every one of the 18 essays about high-profile murder cases involving the rich and famous that are reprinted in Justice: Crimes, Trials and Punishments. All the pieces appeared first in Vanity Fair and many have been published also in Dunne's previous books.
In his thrice-told tales, Dunne is ostensibly writing about trials involving O.J. Simpson, the Menendez brothers, Claus von Bulow, Kennedy cousin Michael Skakel and others. But he is always writing mostly about himself. Dunne is like a grade-school gossip, eager to show how important he is by passing along what the cool kids have told him. The tidbits he passes along are so irredeemably inconsequential they make "Johnny says Mark likes Sally and wants to sit next to her at the pep rally" seem of lasting historical significance.
That previous crack is unfair to grade-school gossips. Even a junior high snitch can be expected to have some concern for the feelings of others. Dunne has none. He feels "great disappointment" writing about one case. His unease doesn't stem from the fact that a woman was murdered. No, Dunne is disappointed that rumors she was performing oral sex when she was brutalized turned out to be false.
Dunne mentions that he once held forth over a catered dinner on the ongoing double-murder trial of Simpson. Dunne cares not a bit that Simpson's older son is one of the waiters and must listen to Dunne pontificate about his father's guilt. One doesn't have to sympathize with the older Simpson to recognize that the younger man has done nothing to deserve Dunne's gleeful callousness.
In yet another of many instances, Dunne manipulates a young man to provide him a secret report on the murder of Martha Moxley in Greenwich, Connecticut in 1975. Dunne swears not to reveal the young man's identity to anyone, but he breaks his promise. Dunne writes that the young man -- practically a boy, really -- was "deeply frightened that something bad could happen to him . . . and he had reason to be." Dunne knew that revealing the young man's name would jeopardize his career and perhaps his life, but it served Dunne's interests to do it anyway. So he did. But he hastens to assure us, "I felt awful."
When he's not hurting people, Dunne is demonstrating that he is gifted with remarkable omniscience. For example, Dunne mentions former Los Angeles police detective Mark Fuhrman, whose repeated use of a racist epithet helped to turn the Simpson trial into a circus. Dunne writes, "I knew for sure that the n-word would never pass Mark Fuhrman's lips again." That's the kind of certainty a god would envy.
One could, I suppose, abide an insensitive know-it-all if what that person had to report were new or important. But there is none of that in Dunne's reporting. He fixes his attention on murder cases involving people of privilege, and much of the interest in his reports appears to be rooted in curiosity about what the people in what used to be called "the smart set" have to say to each other. Without fail, what they have to say in Dunne's accounts is insipid. Their remarks are never more revealing than, "Of course I would get up and leave if O.J. came in here. " Or, "I know where the murder weapon is, but I won't say."
Presumably, anyone interested enough in these cases to read Dunne's dreary re-hashes in Justice also was interested enough to have watched or read a news account or two. That means that in all of Dunne's 337 pages, there is only one scrap of information that might not be familiar to anyone who cares.
The potentially new information is about Claus von Bulow, who was acquitted of poisoning his multi-millionaire wife, Sunny, with insulin, and who was played by Academy Award winner Jeremy Irons in the 1990 movie Reversal of Fortune. The revelation: von Bulow worked in the law firm that in the 1950s handled the first case alleging murder by insulin injection.
That fact was not entered as evidence in either of the trials against von Bulow because it has no legal significance. It might help in the court of public opinion by enabling people who suspect von Bulow to feel more certain that he really did it, but that's not worth wading through Dunne's self-important but irrelevant reporting.
Dunne's daughter was murdered. By most accounts, the judge was dazzled by the spotlight on a high-profile trial and botched it, securing for the killer a sentence much lighter than is usual. Dunne, who died in 2009, drank heavily and considered suicide. Later he had prostate cancer.
Empathy or sympathy could prevent one from judging Dunne's work harshly. But just because he suffered doesn't excuse making his readers and innocent subjects suffer too.
_____
Credit where it is due: Dominick Dunne helped produce The Boys in the Band (1970, directed by William Friedkin). The landmark movie includes one of my favorite romantic scenes and it helped open a world of LGBT cinema that is wonderfully rich.
A few pages later in his essay about the murder trial of his daughter's killer, Dunne refers to murdered journalist Sarai Ribicoff. He describes her only as the "niece of Senator Abraham Ribicoff."
Dunne's obliviousness to the feelings of others taints every one of the 18 essays about high-profile murder cases involving the rich and famous that are reprinted in Justice: Crimes, Trials and Punishments. All the pieces appeared first in Vanity Fair and many have been published also in Dunne's previous books.
In his thrice-told tales, Dunne is ostensibly writing about trials involving O.J. Simpson, the Menendez brothers, Claus von Bulow, Kennedy cousin Michael Skakel and others. But he is always writing mostly about himself. Dunne is like a grade-school gossip, eager to show how important he is by passing along what the cool kids have told him. The tidbits he passes along are so irredeemably inconsequential they make "Johnny says Mark likes Sally and wants to sit next to her at the pep rally" seem of lasting historical significance.
That previous crack is unfair to grade-school gossips. Even a junior high snitch can be expected to have some concern for the feelings of others. Dunne has none. He feels "great disappointment" writing about one case. His unease doesn't stem from the fact that a woman was murdered. No, Dunne is disappointed that rumors she was performing oral sex when she was brutalized turned out to be false.
Dunne mentions that he once held forth over a catered dinner on the ongoing double-murder trial of Simpson. Dunne cares not a bit that Simpson's older son is one of the waiters and must listen to Dunne pontificate about his father's guilt. One doesn't have to sympathize with the older Simpson to recognize that the younger man has done nothing to deserve Dunne's gleeful callousness.
In yet another of many instances, Dunne manipulates a young man to provide him a secret report on the murder of Martha Moxley in Greenwich, Connecticut in 1975. Dunne swears not to reveal the young man's identity to anyone, but he breaks his promise. Dunne writes that the young man -- practically a boy, really -- was "deeply frightened that something bad could happen to him . . . and he had reason to be." Dunne knew that revealing the young man's name would jeopardize his career and perhaps his life, but it served Dunne's interests to do it anyway. So he did. But he hastens to assure us, "I felt awful."
When he's not hurting people, Dunne is demonstrating that he is gifted with remarkable omniscience. For example, Dunne mentions former Los Angeles police detective Mark Fuhrman, whose repeated use of a racist epithet helped to turn the Simpson trial into a circus. Dunne writes, "I knew for sure that the n-word would never pass Mark Fuhrman's lips again." That's the kind of certainty a god would envy.
One could, I suppose, abide an insensitive know-it-all if what that person had to report were new or important. But there is none of that in Dunne's reporting. He fixes his attention on murder cases involving people of privilege, and much of the interest in his reports appears to be rooted in curiosity about what the people in what used to be called "the smart set" have to say to each other. Without fail, what they have to say in Dunne's accounts is insipid. Their remarks are never more revealing than, "Of course I would get up and leave if O.J. came in here. " Or, "I know where the murder weapon is, but I won't say."
Presumably, anyone interested enough in these cases to read Dunne's dreary re-hashes in Justice also was interested enough to have watched or read a news account or two. That means that in all of Dunne's 337 pages, there is only one scrap of information that might not be familiar to anyone who cares.
The potentially new information is about Claus von Bulow, who was acquitted of poisoning his multi-millionaire wife, Sunny, with insulin, and who was played by Academy Award winner Jeremy Irons in the 1990 movie Reversal of Fortune. The revelation: von Bulow worked in the law firm that in the 1950s handled the first case alleging murder by insulin injection.
That fact was not entered as evidence in either of the trials against von Bulow because it has no legal significance. It might help in the court of public opinion by enabling people who suspect von Bulow to feel more certain that he really did it, but that's not worth wading through Dunne's self-important but irrelevant reporting.
Dunne's daughter was murdered. By most accounts, the judge was dazzled by the spotlight on a high-profile trial and botched it, securing for the killer a sentence much lighter than is usual. Dunne, who died in 2009, drank heavily and considered suicide. Later he had prostate cancer.
Empathy or sympathy could prevent one from judging Dunne's work harshly. But just because he suffered doesn't excuse making his readers and innocent subjects suffer too.
_____
Credit where it is due: Dominick Dunne helped produce The Boys in the Band (1970, directed by William Friedkin). The landmark movie includes one of my favorite romantic scenes and it helped open a world of LGBT cinema that is wonderfully rich.
June 23, 2010
I would like to make a Dominick Dunne Mad Libs, and it would be something like the following.
"One night while dining at [Restaurant: Drai's/Swifty/Le Dome/Le Pavillon], I happened to run into [Title: Mr./Mrs.Husband's-First-Name/Sir/Lady/Countess/Dame/Duchess] [Last Name: DuPont/Simpson/Kennedy/Bloomingdale/Von Bulow], of [Newport/Fifth Avenue/Park Avenue/Santa Monica/Wilmington:]. He/she told me something remarkable - that only one day before [Simpson murders/Menendez murders:], she/he had heard that [criminal:] had taken a golf outing with [criminal's maid/dog walker/caddy/garbage man/cousin's friend's gynecologist:], and said that [something incriminating about criminal:]. I called [Robert Shapiro/Marcia Clark/Johnnie Cochran/F. Lee Bailey/Leslie Abramson:], but they had no comment. However, I noticed the same story appeared in Liz Smith's column the following week."
All kidding aside . . .
I waffled between 3 and 4 stars for this one, because the saturation of celebrity/society names grew borderline intolerable at the end. The editing was also bizarre in some cases, and parts of the writing seemed like they jumped around with little flow. However, I've read Vanity Fair for a few years now and their editors are horrible, and I find the same thing in current articles in the magazine. Makes me feel bad for the writers.
Now, here was an issue with it. As some background, I love true crime, and really good true crime at that; more journalistic, not Lifetime melodramatic reenactment. Most of what I've read takes a certain crime or series of crimes and details the start to the end, with lots of background, a clear cast of characters, etc. (such as "Helter Skelter" or "Monster of Florence"). So when I picked up "Justice," though I knew that it was a collection of articles Dunne had written for Vanity Fair, I was much more used to an expansive back story. For those who were adults during the Simpson, Menendez, and Von Bulow trials, 95% of the people referenced by Dunne will be easily referenced; however, I was in fourth grade. Because they were written in a contemporary fashion (as they should have been, duh), it was at times hard to follow the huge cast of characters featured in each article. At times, these people ended up not being even remotely integral to the story at all. In addition, just as I can't stand the focus put on old blue-blood families constantly appearing in VF now, I can't stand it in Dunne's work. When will they get that nobody cares any more? I didn't even know who most of them were.
In spite of all of this, I tipped it over to 4 stars because of how timely these writings are. In terms of history, the context of the magazine, and Dunne as a writer, every word written is important. You really couldn't sum up any of these things better than in this collection. Also, the focus on "society people," while annoying to me, provided the backbone of the writings; bottom line, Rich People Are CRAZY. Though I'm sure that there are more comprehensive books on all of the things that Dunne wrote about, this collection stands out as a testament to a time(s) and (very small) culture of America. In essence, while I didn't absolutely love reading it, I respected and admired the hell out of it.
As an aside, I appreciate Dunne's story of his own search for justice for his daughter's murder being placed first in the book. It really set the tone for the reader, to understand where he was coming from in each subsequent writing. I thought it was both moving and fair, as he respected the reader enough to, in a way, give full disclosure of his own thoughts and opinions regarding the justice system.
Dunne was an extremely important true crime writer, and even if at times the subjects/style of the writing weren't exactly my favorite, this collection clearly is a necessity for anyone interested in the genre.
"One night while dining at [Restaurant: Drai's/Swifty/Le Dome/Le Pavillon], I happened to run into [Title: Mr./Mrs.Husband's-First-Name/Sir/Lady/Countess/Dame/Duchess] [Last Name: DuPont/Simpson/Kennedy/Bloomingdale/Von Bulow], of [Newport/Fifth Avenue/Park Avenue/Santa Monica/Wilmington:]. He/she told me something remarkable - that only one day before [Simpson murders/Menendez murders:], she/he had heard that [criminal:] had taken a golf outing with [criminal's maid/dog walker/caddy/garbage man/cousin's friend's gynecologist:], and said that [something incriminating about criminal:]. I called [Robert Shapiro/Marcia Clark/Johnnie Cochran/F. Lee Bailey/Leslie Abramson:], but they had no comment. However, I noticed the same story appeared in Liz Smith's column the following week."
All kidding aside . . .
I waffled between 3 and 4 stars for this one, because the saturation of celebrity/society names grew borderline intolerable at the end. The editing was also bizarre in some cases, and parts of the writing seemed like they jumped around with little flow. However, I've read Vanity Fair for a few years now and their editors are horrible, and I find the same thing in current articles in the magazine. Makes me feel bad for the writers.
Now, here was an issue with it. As some background, I love true crime, and really good true crime at that; more journalistic, not Lifetime melodramatic reenactment. Most of what I've read takes a certain crime or series of crimes and details the start to the end, with lots of background, a clear cast of characters, etc. (such as "Helter Skelter" or "Monster of Florence"). So when I picked up "Justice," though I knew that it was a collection of articles Dunne had written for Vanity Fair, I was much more used to an expansive back story. For those who were adults during the Simpson, Menendez, and Von Bulow trials, 95% of the people referenced by Dunne will be easily referenced; however, I was in fourth grade. Because they were written in a contemporary fashion (as they should have been, duh), it was at times hard to follow the huge cast of characters featured in each article. At times, these people ended up not being even remotely integral to the story at all. In addition, just as I can't stand the focus put on old blue-blood families constantly appearing in VF now, I can't stand it in Dunne's work. When will they get that nobody cares any more? I didn't even know who most of them were.
In spite of all of this, I tipped it over to 4 stars because of how timely these writings are. In terms of history, the context of the magazine, and Dunne as a writer, every word written is important. You really couldn't sum up any of these things better than in this collection. Also, the focus on "society people," while annoying to me, provided the backbone of the writings; bottom line, Rich People Are CRAZY. Though I'm sure that there are more comprehensive books on all of the things that Dunne wrote about, this collection stands out as a testament to a time(s) and (very small) culture of America. In essence, while I didn't absolutely love reading it, I respected and admired the hell out of it.
As an aside, I appreciate Dunne's story of his own search for justice for his daughter's murder being placed first in the book. It really set the tone for the reader, to understand where he was coming from in each subsequent writing. I thought it was both moving and fair, as he respected the reader enough to, in a way, give full disclosure of his own thoughts and opinions regarding the justice system.
Dunne was an extremely important true crime writer, and even if at times the subjects/style of the writing weren't exactly my favorite, this collection clearly is a necessity for anyone interested in the genre.
December 14, 2007
I've long loved Dominick Dunne, for many reasons. I think I envy him in some ways; he was at the center of New York society, a constant dinner companion and raconteur, among some of the richest and well-known families in the USA.
But what I've loved more than that, about Mr. Dunne, is his complete ability to skewer these people without regret.
I've watched him grow from disillusioned, to cynical, to angry. I've watched him ride the crest of the societal wave all the way down to the murky depths and somehow I believe he's come out the end of the pipe better than when he went in.
Many of his books are simultaneously crime novels and social commentary; it's hard to distinguish in his books the difference between the two, sometimes. This book is no different.
Justice is a collection of chronicles detailing trials, and tales of justice denied or affirmed - sometimes depending on how deep the pockets were, or how capable the attorney. In his own unique style, Dunne explores each case, searching for truth - and sometimes (only sometimes) finding it.
An excellent read. Highly recommended.
But what I've loved more than that, about Mr. Dunne, is his complete ability to skewer these people without regret.
I've watched him grow from disillusioned, to cynical, to angry. I've watched him ride the crest of the societal wave all the way down to the murky depths and somehow I believe he's come out the end of the pipe better than when he went in.
Many of his books are simultaneously crime novels and social commentary; it's hard to distinguish in his books the difference between the two, sometimes. This book is no different.
Justice is a collection of chronicles detailing trials, and tales of justice denied or affirmed - sometimes depending on how deep the pockets were, or how capable the attorney. In his own unique style, Dunne explores each case, searching for truth - and sometimes (only sometimes) finding it.
An excellent read. Highly recommended.
October 29, 2019
The stories overlap and are repetitive and gossipy
DNF @75%
DNF @75%
September 6, 2009
How does that old saying go: "Every time a writer dies, Christa buys one of his books?" Dominick Dunne's death was like a magnet to the True Crime section, where I yanked the only Dunne in the store, "Justice: Crimes, Trials, and Punishments." His body was barely cold when I scanned my debit card.
This is a collection of the crimes Dunne covered after deciding when he was oh-50ish to become a writer. It opens with his personal essay on the death of his daughter Dominique Dunne, the sassafras older sister from "Poltergeist" who was murdered by her boyfriend not long after one of the greatest movies of all time was released. From there, Dominick Dunne writes about high-society crimes, with about half of the book devoted to his most-famous pieces on the OJ Simpson trial. Also included: Erik and Lyle Menendez, two pimply California boys who shot their parents; the unsolved Martha Moxley murder in Greenwich, Conn., where he gets some exclusive info that eventually leads to the indictment of Michael Skakel.
This. Is. Delicious.
If I ever claim to not be interested in salacious celebrity gossip, grab me, shake me, and remind me of "The Dunne incident of 2009." Dunne concedes that at different parts of this book that people just tell him things. He is pulled aside by butlers, receives anonymous tips, and is invited to dinner parties where people spill juice that goes in his ears and into the pages of Vanity Fair. His work is like a Truman Capote and Page Six lovechild. The worst part is that this book isn't even new, and I'd soiled it with the amount of spittle I usually reserve for a "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" marathon. (Oh, BTW, the Kardashians get plenty of shouts, since the late Robert Kardashian was close to OJ).
Make no mistake: This is not quality journalism. Dunne formulates his opinions early and loudly, and never uses "innocent until proven guilty" as an excuse to hold his horses on, say, his opinion of the Menendez Bros (guilty) or OJ (so guilty that Dunne probably needs at least three more Simpsons to divvy up the punishment he would want exacted on the former football player).
Some of the Simpson sections are a bit repetitious since they were written during an on-going trial. Dunne occasionally doubles back to reintroduce players and back stories. I've also seen criticism of his name-dropping, which I think is hooey. It isn't name dropping if this is actually the crowd with which you run. And for Dunne, it is. Granted, he had to do a bit of clawing to get a spot at the table. But they kept him around, and continued to tell him stuff.
This is a collection of the crimes Dunne covered after deciding when he was oh-50ish to become a writer. It opens with his personal essay on the death of his daughter Dominique Dunne, the sassafras older sister from "Poltergeist" who was murdered by her boyfriend not long after one of the greatest movies of all time was released. From there, Dominick Dunne writes about high-society crimes, with about half of the book devoted to his most-famous pieces on the OJ Simpson trial. Also included: Erik and Lyle Menendez, two pimply California boys who shot their parents; the unsolved Martha Moxley murder in Greenwich, Conn., where he gets some exclusive info that eventually leads to the indictment of Michael Skakel.
This. Is. Delicious.
If I ever claim to not be interested in salacious celebrity gossip, grab me, shake me, and remind me of "The Dunne incident of 2009." Dunne concedes that at different parts of this book that people just tell him things. He is pulled aside by butlers, receives anonymous tips, and is invited to dinner parties where people spill juice that goes in his ears and into the pages of Vanity Fair. His work is like a Truman Capote and Page Six lovechild. The worst part is that this book isn't even new, and I'd soiled it with the amount of spittle I usually reserve for a "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" marathon. (Oh, BTW, the Kardashians get plenty of shouts, since the late Robert Kardashian was close to OJ).
Make no mistake: This is not quality journalism. Dunne formulates his opinions early and loudly, and never uses "innocent until proven guilty" as an excuse to hold his horses on, say, his opinion of the Menendez Bros (guilty) or OJ (so guilty that Dunne probably needs at least three more Simpsons to divvy up the punishment he would want exacted on the former football player).
Some of the Simpson sections are a bit repetitious since they were written during an on-going trial. Dunne occasionally doubles back to reintroduce players and back stories. I've also seen criticism of his name-dropping, which I think is hooey. It isn't name dropping if this is actually the crowd with which you run. And for Dunne, it is. Granted, he had to do a bit of clawing to get a spot at the table. But they kept him around, and continued to tell him stuff.
January 22, 2024
Dominick Dunne knew everybody and was such a great name-dropper, without being an asshole about it. This is a collection of some of his crime and trial writing for Vanity Fair of extremely wealthy people behaving very badly, and largely getting away with it.
April 6, 2017
Didn't finish this book. I didn't realize it was a collection of stories he published in vanity fair. The stories overlap and are repetitive and gossipy. I wasn't interested.
Want to read
November 3, 2019Synopsis: some of Dunne's columns from Vanity Fair; crimes, trials, and punishments. Includes Mourning In New York which deals with 9/11.
May 9, 2019
Dunne's wit, name-dropping, and gossip-column tone are masterfully balanced with his intense and unwavering empathy for victims and their families. Seeing these essays laid out side by side, we are given the gift of how this balance developed in the face of cases that challenged our social conscience.
April 23, 2017
This is my favorite kind of book! It's the greatest hits of all of Vanity Fair's trial reporting so it is fact-checked gossip. I wish it were longer!!!
March 26, 2020
Wonderful, as is everything by Domonick Dunne.
October 26, 2022
This was a good book, but it took me so long to get through!!!!!!!!!
July 31, 2023
Wasn’t a fan didn’t finish was very wordy , and pretty boring after the first chapter about a bunch of rich people getting murdered …. Just wasn’t a fan of any of it
Read
July 4, 2020After reading this book, I rushed to find the meaning of this often used and abused word.
Justice as a means of punishing actions that are wrong, in order to end those wrongs and lead to a safer society for everyone is dead. Long live Justice!
November 17, 2011
This book is a collection of Dominick Dunne's articles for Vanity Fair concerning true crimes. Unfortunately they are the ones that have already been hashed and rehashed to death (no pun intended). I always liked Mr. Dunne. I have enjoyed his appearances on T.V. as well as the book the Two Mrs. Grenvilles. The best story in the whole collection is the first one where he recounts the murder of his daughter, the actress Dominique Dunne, and subsequent trial of her killer John Sweeney. It is told from the perspective that only a father's rage and despair can provide. It is no wonder then that Dominick Dunne became such a friend to crime victims families. His hatred of O.J. comes from the same place as his hatred of his own daughters killer, the total revulsion for a man who would kill a woman he supposedly loved. In this book the stories of Claus Von Bulow, the Menendenez brothers, O.J. Simpson, and Michael Skakel are told from a not unbiased point of view. Dominick Dunne ran in the same circle as many of the people who knew these killers personally and he is not afraid to name names and reveal his insider knowledge of the cases. What surprised me the most was how many ways murderers were connected to other murderers. For instance Clause Von Bulow, before marrying Sunny, had an affair with Anne Woodward after she murdered her husband and whose story was the basis of Dunne's book the Two Mrs. Grenvilles. The Menendez brother's had many coincidental connections to O.J. Simpson as well. The rich apparently move in the same small circles. Fascinating stuff. The only part that really dragged for me were all of the chapters dedicated to the O.J. case. At the time this book was published it was probably shocking stuff but now from the perspective of ten years later the chapters drag on too long. If you don't know O.J. did it by now you have my sympathy. Everyone and anyone who was connected to the case has written a book, I think even Nicole's dog, Kato has one. If for some reason you should find yourself still interested in the case there is really only one book you need to read by O.J. Simpson. Not that ridiculous I Want to Tell you, the one where he lays out his full confession, (if) I Did It! which contains a forward by guess who, Dominick Dunne! The Martha Moxley murder is also discussed here and Dunne reveals how he was instrumental in bringing Michael Skakel to justice through his thinly veiled recounting of the crime in A Season in Purgatory. Who was his partner in exposing the killer?, none other than Mark Fuhrman of O.J. Simpson trial fame. It's really a small world after all. Even though the crimes in this book are old, very old news, it is still worth reading just to experience Dominick Dunnes distinctive voice again. I was very sad to hear of his passing but I know Dominique was waiting in heaven for him with a well done dad.
February 25, 2022
I first read the lead article-- the one about his daughter's murder, decades ago. I remember pulling for him and his ex-wife as a couple, because they are hands-down the best ex-couple I've come across.
This is ironic because I wasn't able to hang with Dunne for a whole audiobook. Now, I distinctly remember putting this book down because it segued from the heart-stopping story about his daughter to a cringey piece about two strung-out derelicts, one of whom murdered the other in a brutal way. Dunne seemed to feel that this was really a suicide-by-fellow-druggie and was appalled by the life sentences handed down. (His daughter's murderer got four years for strangling her to death and beating her beyond recognition.)
HOWEVER-- as clearly as I remember that story, I did not find it anywhere in this collection. So maybe my decades-old memory is full of shit. The rest of this book is really bad, but not bad for that reason. I'll have to see if any other such exist anywhere else.
Again, the first article is brilliant. Amazing. Gut-wrenching. It's everything that every American should know about our legal process. It should be required reading for every jury member.
The rest of this book-- is so Hollywood it's a parody of Hollywood. Such-and-so famous person with her absurd wealth is having an affair with Count Blurdyblur now exiled from Europe because of a rumor that he was engaged in a necrophilic relationship with Blarky O'Kennedy's greyhounds-- you know, the Blarkey who writes books and screenplays and has that special business that caters to all the very best people doing all the very best work and who is also the third cousin of the actual Kennedys . . . Also the RICH have SECRETS that are SECRET.
You know. Exactly the way the poors do, just without the money.
This is ironic because I wasn't able to hang with Dunne for a whole audiobook. Now, I distinctly remember putting this book down because it segued from the heart-stopping story about his daughter to a cringey piece about two strung-out derelicts, one of whom murdered the other in a brutal way. Dunne seemed to feel that this was really a suicide-by-fellow-druggie and was appalled by the life sentences handed down. (His daughter's murderer got four years for strangling her to death and beating her beyond recognition.)
HOWEVER-- as clearly as I remember that story, I did not find it anywhere in this collection. So maybe my decades-old memory is full of shit. The rest of this book is really bad, but not bad for that reason. I'll have to see if any other such exist anywhere else.
Again, the first article is brilliant. Amazing. Gut-wrenching. It's everything that every American should know about our legal process. It should be required reading for every jury member.
The rest of this book-- is so Hollywood it's a parody of Hollywood. Such-and-so famous person with her absurd wealth is having an affair with Count Blurdyblur now exiled from Europe because of a rumor that he was engaged in a necrophilic relationship with Blarky O'Kennedy's greyhounds-- you know, the Blarkey who writes books and screenplays and has that special business that caters to all the very best people doing all the very best work and who is also the third cousin of the actual Kennedys . . . Also the RICH have SECRETS that are SECRET.
You know. Exactly the way the poors do, just without the money.
July 6, 2010
I listened to this as an audio book read by the author. It is a fascinating expose of the deceit and degeneracy that has surrounded many of the most famous trials of the 20th Century - much of it gleaned from his reportage for Vanity Fair. What first impressed me was Dunne's hardboiled honesty and commitment to justice. The book begins with a chapter dedicated to the murder of his daughter Dominique, who in October, 1982, was strangled to death by her former boyfriend, John Thomas Sweeney, cut down in the prime of her life, even then a successful actress, a star on the rise. After making a mockery of her character and achievements, the defense managed to reduce Sweeney's rap to voluntary manslaughter. He was sentenced to six years and change; he was released after serving four and half years.
This revelation of a fundamental flaw in the US Justice System serves as the thematic link of what comes to follow. Among other cases, Dunne discusses in great detail the crimes and trials of Claus Von Bulow, the Menendez brothers, and OJ Simpson. He also writes about the conspiracy surrounding the murder of Alfred Bloomingdale's mistress, Vicki Morgan, and in the final chapter, pens a fascinating account of his involvement in the investigation of Martha Moxley's cold case, which found Michael Skakel guilty. (He is now sentenced with 20 years to life imprisonment for a murder that he nearly got away with.) Dunne's account of the Menendez brothers brutal slaying of their parents, "Nightmare On Elm Drive," was included in The Library Of America two-century retrospective of American true crime writing. Justice is required reading for anyone interested in law and the effects of fame and fortune on criminal cases.
This revelation of a fundamental flaw in the US Justice System serves as the thematic link of what comes to follow. Among other cases, Dunne discusses in great detail the crimes and trials of Claus Von Bulow, the Menendez brothers, and OJ Simpson. He also writes about the conspiracy surrounding the murder of Alfred Bloomingdale's mistress, Vicki Morgan, and in the final chapter, pens a fascinating account of his involvement in the investigation of Martha Moxley's cold case, which found Michael Skakel guilty. (He is now sentenced with 20 years to life imprisonment for a murder that he nearly got away with.) Dunne's account of the Menendez brothers brutal slaying of their parents, "Nightmare On Elm Drive," was included in The Library Of America two-century retrospective of American true crime writing. Justice is required reading for anyone interested in law and the effects of fame and fortune on criminal cases.
April 22, 2012
This was the first Dunne book I have read. Despite his fame as such a great author, I was not so impressed with his writing style, in fact I found it rather generic and not elegant.
The most riveting chapter by far is the first about his daughter's murder and trail. Dunne's heartbreak was palpable and the article was sometimes difficult to read.
Half of the book is about OJ and the rest of the articles are about high society people and murders that have occurred in their families. I know writing about high society is Dunne's niche, but constantly talking about himself, the famous people he knows, the fancy parties he is invited to, and the fancy restaurants he eats at had extremely snooty undertones and made Dunne look like an ass, in my opinion.
I guess I am not a fan of his style and the gossip circles he writes about. It seems so unimportant to the details of the murders and trials. In all, i did not like that this was the focus he took on the articles. However, I assume if he took a different, more journalistic approach, Vanity Fair would not have printed them.
The most riveting chapter by far is the first about his daughter's murder and trail. Dunne's heartbreak was palpable and the article was sometimes difficult to read.
Half of the book is about OJ and the rest of the articles are about high society people and murders that have occurred in their families. I know writing about high society is Dunne's niche, but constantly talking about himself, the famous people he knows, the fancy parties he is invited to, and the fancy restaurants he eats at had extremely snooty undertones and made Dunne look like an ass, in my opinion.
I guess I am not a fan of his style and the gossip circles he writes about. It seems so unimportant to the details of the murders and trials. In all, i did not like that this was the focus he took on the articles. However, I assume if he took a different, more journalistic approach, Vanity Fair would not have printed them.
December 18, 2008
I loved this book, even though so far each of the three non-fiction books by Dunne that I have read have had overlapping articles. It is as if he has gotten away with repackaging the same books. This book was also a little OJ simpson heavy. I have no interest in that tale. Though perhaps I will want a refresher in another 10 years, and if so I would go for this book.
March 23, 2013
Extremely outdated with no recent updates on the various cases. I listened to the audiobook version and Dunne's reading is heavy with snobbish overtones.
August 3, 2016
Old cases. Still I loved his writing and haven't read it all yet. RIP, Mr. Dunn.
December 12, 2022
The coverage of his own daughter's case, OJ's case, and Moxley case were all really good. However, the other cases were somewhat heavy in name dropping and details.
August 23, 2021
Very interesting, short.
April 2, 2024
This book is so "of a time". I don't think that - with today's social media - there ever needs to be a Dominick Dunne again, skulking around courtrooms and wafting through dinner parties noticing and noting down every piece of information that comes his way. Whispers in halls from anonymous sources, overheard jokes at dinner parties, recounted stories by friends of friends of friends, hissed opinions from strangers as they journey the "up" escalator, Dunne heading down ... so much of that's been replaced by the feeds. Who needs one man to gather it all up like a lint brush only to give it all out to the public with a sly wink and a nod in the pages of Vanity Fair?
When most of these trials were going on in real-time (the Menendez brothers, OJ Simpson, Safra, Martha Moxley) I had a subscription to Vanity Fair and (unless there was something AHHH-MAY-ZING to steal my interest) after skimming some of the pictures and smashing my wrists against the perfume inserts I'd head straight for Dunne's column. I enjoyed his intimate little patter, the way he wrote to his audience like we were all in the know, like this countess and that billionaire were names we all recognized so OF COURSE it was fine to drop them in (our) casual conversation.
This book definitely brought back memories of reading those articles and made me feel 20ish again. However, in the years that have passed so much more has happened with these particular cases, and many qualified true-crime YouTubers have done excellent deepdives on them.
So, if you're looking for the full, true crime stories -- go there. If you're feeling nostalgic for the old VF days ... this book is the time capsule you're looking for.
When most of these trials were going on in real-time (the Menendez brothers, OJ Simpson, Safra, Martha Moxley) I had a subscription to Vanity Fair and (unless there was something AHHH-MAY-ZING to steal my interest) after skimming some of the pictures and smashing my wrists against the perfume inserts I'd head straight for Dunne's column. I enjoyed his intimate little patter, the way he wrote to his audience like we were all in the know, like this countess and that billionaire were names we all recognized so OF COURSE it was fine to drop them in (our) casual conversation.
This book definitely brought back memories of reading those articles and made me feel 20ish again. However, in the years that have passed so much more has happened with these particular cases, and many qualified true-crime YouTubers have done excellent deepdives on them.
So, if you're looking for the full, true crime stories -- go there. If you're feeling nostalgic for the old VF days ... this book is the time capsule you're looking for.
February 11, 2022
Go Dominick, Go! How spectacular was Dominick Dunne - an absolute razor blade in the courtroom, and at the best of times, a black-or-white judge on "Who did it?" He was ruthless in is observations, disrupting media headlines wherever he went, while running circles around those shameless defense attorneys during the O.J trial. He called the verdict from the start and stuck with his feelings of whether one was guilty or innocent, and in typical Dunne style, favoured the prosecuting side, always. Dunne is a fighter for the rights of the victims at any given time, starting with the muder of his beloved daughter, Dominique, who was strangled to death by her jealous ex-boyfriend in 1982. This penultimate moment ignited Dunne's quest for justice and birthed his signatory, passion driven prose, as he became a contributing writer for Vanity Fair magazine. He should be remembered as an all-time "original" in every sense of the word. These Vanity Fair relics are to die for! I have never found a reporter of crime more addictive than Dominick Dunne. He is thrilling, enraged as he writes he will have you craving for more.
February 3, 2025
Overall, Dunne is a good writer. He was obviously writing to his audience—the Vanity Fair reader—and thus maximized the name-dropping, lunches at fancy restaurants, and posh hotels. The book is basically a long-form fancy gossip column. He’s not telling the stories of the victims.
Dunne writes about the dark underbelly of the rich and famous—their crimes, their affairs, their palace-like homes, their fabulously wealthy and exclusive lawyers. Most of this book is a who’s-who of Hollywood, as well as who’s doing who, who’s done who in, and who’s Dunne seen at trials, restaurants, and fancy hotels. Oh, and OJ. Lots of OJ. It was the style at the time.
Despite these issues, I mostly enjoyed Dunne’s insider’s view of the true crime drama in the celebrity world. I’m not a celebrity fanatic and I didn’t follow any of the trials at the time, being only in middle school during the OJ trial
Dunne writes about the dark underbelly of the rich and famous—their crimes, their affairs, their palace-like homes, their fabulously wealthy and exclusive lawyers. Most of this book is a who’s-who of Hollywood, as well as who’s doing who, who’s done who in, and who’s Dunne seen at trials, restaurants, and fancy hotels. Oh, and OJ. Lots of OJ. It was the style at the time.
Despite these issues, I mostly enjoyed Dunne’s insider’s view of the true crime drama in the celebrity world. I’m not a celebrity fanatic and I didn’t follow any of the trials at the time, being only in middle school during the OJ trial
June 21, 2018
Dominick Dunne’s writing for me is a guilty pleasure, like eating Maltesers, I’ll always have room for more.
And I don’t really understand why. I’m not a reader of celeb magazines & don’t have a particular interest in the rich & famous and high society. But Dunne’s enthusiasm & energetic pursuit of his quarry is infectious. And somehow he makes the table-hopping and name-dropping of people I often haven’t heard of fascinating.
Dunne enjoys being on the insider’s table, getting & dishing the gossip, but he also has an absolute moral compass, & what always intrigues me is why do so many court him when they know his object is to expose them?
Sadly I think I have read all his published books, so will be left scanning the internet to see if I can find any old Vanity Fair articles to feed my addiction.
And I don’t really understand why. I’m not a reader of celeb magazines & don’t have a particular interest in the rich & famous and high society. But Dunne’s enthusiasm & energetic pursuit of his quarry is infectious. And somehow he makes the table-hopping and name-dropping of people I often haven’t heard of fascinating.
Dunne enjoys being on the insider’s table, getting & dishing the gossip, but he also has an absolute moral compass, & what always intrigues me is why do so many court him when they know his object is to expose them?
Sadly I think I have read all his published books, so will be left scanning the internet to see if I can find any old Vanity Fair articles to feed my addiction.
July 11, 2018
Dominick Dunne did his writing muse, Truman Capote, a particular kind of justice by combining the traditions of true crime and gossip with a deeply personal sorrow caused by the murder of his daughter. A unseemly and seemingly unsavory combination, to be sure, but for him, it works. Dunne is adept at keeping the reader alert and in search of the next nugget that no one else has ever heard of before. No matter that the book is in widespread publication, which means everyone has heard what he has to say. He creates that kind of intimacy with the reader.
Strongly recommend Dunne in all his forms, fiction and non. (Also his brother, who never got the public recognition he deserved.) Give this only a three star review because much more could have been included. Feeling a bit gypped. But I will unfailingly be back for more.
Strongly recommend Dunne in all his forms, fiction and non. (Also his brother, who never got the public recognition he deserved.) Give this only a three star review because much more could have been included. Feeling a bit gypped. But I will unfailingly be back for more.
December 25, 2019
Over thirty years ago, I subscribed to Vanity Fair and was a subscriber until last year. One of the reasons I bought the magazine were the sensational articles written by Dominick Dunne. I always admired his writing and his narrative accounts of the rich and famous in all their dysfunctional lives. Having money shouldn't immune anyone from getting away with crimes, but in some cases it does, re; O.J. Simpson, William Kennedy Smith. He was the reason I kept reading may years later.
Dunne's accounts of many of these rich and privileged people who commit horrendous crimes, always fascinated me. Especially from a psychological standpoint.
I no longer subscribe to Vanity Fair, and Mr. Dunne has been dead for 10 years now. I had bought this book years ago and had forgotten about it. Reading it now reminded me of how much I liked his take on the injustices in our society. I miss him.
Dunne's accounts of many of these rich and privileged people who commit horrendous crimes, always fascinated me. Especially from a psychological standpoint.
I no longer subscribe to Vanity Fair, and Mr. Dunne has been dead for 10 years now. I had bought this book years ago and had forgotten about it. Reading it now reminded me of how much I liked his take on the injustices in our society. I miss him.
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