The Advocate’s Devil initially sounds like a typographical or copying error called anastrophe where words are out of place. Of course, the title is a carefully crafted clue that the lawyer-protagonist (when one of the most respected attorneys in the United States writes a thriller, it would almost have to be a lawyer-protagonist) is going to have to struggle with a bad client, perverse judge, addictive proclivity, or infuriating colleague. I suppose there could be other options, but the “devil” that endangers Abe Ringel and all that he cares about happens to be one of those listed.
The author, Alan M. Dershowitz, is almost synonymous with some high-profile cases in which he served on the defense team. If O.J. Simpson, Mike Tyson, and Michael Milken sound familiar, you know what Dershowitz’ real-life qualifications for writing about an attorney representing clients in both a seeming unwinnable capital case and an athletic superstar in a rape case that sounds like it could come out of today’s headlines. That this novel was published in 1994 reminds me that some things never change.
Both of the cases mentioned in the preceding paragraph require torturous ethical decisions to be made. Indeed, both of these cases are personal reminders to me of why I am thankful that my high school dream of becoming a defense attorney was redirected as a senior in high school. Over the years, I’ve discovered over and over how I couldn’t have lived within the demands of that profession. The Advocate’s Devil was a profound reminder of that personal bullet I dodged. Dershowitz’ Jewish background comes heavily into play when the protagonist is struggling with these ethical decisions and I really appreciated some of the ambiguity implied in the Talmudic counsel on which he occasionally relies. For example, as the book nears its climax, there is an obscure reference to Haman, the persecutor of Mordecai in the Book of Esther. When Esther is hesitant to confront the king because she fears for her own life, Mordecai reminds her that it isn’t just those in immediate danger who will be affected and that this will affect her (and her descendants) as well (p. 337).
In one of the ethical dilemmas in the book, a character calls upon a Talmudic reference where a tyrant besieging a city demanded that the leaders of the town surrender one individual to be killed so that the tyrant would accept the tribute and allow the rest of the city’s population to live. The ancient rabbis debated and decided that if the tyrant had called for an individual by name to be sacrificed that it would be the right thing to do in giving up the one to save the many, but if the leaders of the town had to select someone, it would be wrong. Though the result would be the same, saving the rest by sacrificing the one, the former would be the tyrant’s responsibility because he selected the victim while in the latter, it would be the leaders’ responsibility because they selected the victim (p. 169). And yes, the story with all of its implications has direct bearing on protagonist Abe Ringel’s ethical/legal dilemma!
Another aspect I enjoyed (especially knowing that Dershowitz himself has taught in the academic world) was when various characters would comment on the teaching profession and the crop of students they were teaching. “We are architects of ideas,” insists one such character rather than call himself a teacher/professor (p. 43). The same professor insisted, “I don’t answer questions, I question answers.” (p. 51) In other words, he asserts, “My job is to deepen the level of your confusion. Your job is to find answers that work for you.” (p. 51)
As a character is dying in this book, he asks to be buried with his glasses on. He knew that people would think it foolish, but he makes Ringel promise not to forget not to let them take his glasses off. In a bizarre twist of conversation, Abe says that he feels that way too, since: “I would be afraid I’d get bored and not be able to read.” (p. 188) Regardless of what believes about the afterlife and how nonsensical that may be, it is incredibly quaint and cute for people with a mindset such as I have. And in another discussion of glasses, Abe breaks a glass during an office celebration, explaining the Jewish tradition. “There is a Jewish tradition of breaking a glass at even joyous events such as weddings. It reminds us that no joy is ever without some sorrow.” (p. 284)
The Advocate’s Devil is not a mystery; it is a thriller wrapped in a labyrinth of legal maneuvers. I found it absolutely fascinating to read. For example, the protagonist creates a shadow jury (an unofficial jury of similar demographics and opinions to monitor the case and give an indicator of what was working and not working) to be polled every day and check the progress of the case. On page 213, Dershowitz reveals that the prosecution had set up a shadow jury to test their case in the O. J. Simpson trial. What happened in that real-life experiment? The jury acquitted Simpson just as the actual jury did. The prosecution should have known their case was in trouble. I also appreciated the wishful distinction made between the “not guilty” verdicts required in most states other than the less decisive (and truer to the “reasonable doubt” idea) “not proven” for which many advocates wish (p. 258).
There are some twists at the end of The Advocate’s Devil, but they are so obviously telegraphed that I refuse to call this novel a “mystery.” However, as a “thriller” wrapped in legal maneuvers, it succeeds at the highest level. I read it in less than 24 hours.