At the turn of the 21st century, John Edwards was on the cusp of being the most powerful elected official in the world. Then, he was on the cusp of being the second-most-powerful elected official in the world. A few years later, he had an outside shot of maybe getting a cabinet appointment from Democratic frontrunner Barack Obama, though this was dashed when he preemptively asserted that he was only interested in being top dog. Today, even in a time of decaying morals, John Edwards is one of the most universally disliked public figures in the United States. So much so that I will not again refer to him as a public figure.
To take a dig at a guy who faded from public life five years ago, you have to undertake extraordinary tasks, like reading the book written at his career's apex. Make no mistake. John Edwards, with help from a credible DC ghostwriter, wrote something notable. As far as presidential-cusp books go.
Of course, the book's words, which, even in the last chapter, emphasize "decency," are hollow now. But, a lot of the other words, including most of those detailing his career as a lawyer with a blue-collar southern upbringing, are pleasurable to read.
The four trials in Four Trials are significant court cases that helped shape Edwards' early career and padded his grandchildren's trust funds. All of them are emotionally-charged injury/negligence type cases with blockbuster verdicts. Any lawyer can justify the types of cases which might be distilled to "ambulance chasing" by mentioning the innocent victims, but Edwards cannot be categorized as an opportunist, citing real policy changes that his cases ushered. It's really, really hard to consume this book in a vacuum and conclude that John Edwards was anything but presidential.
There is a wealth of information you can learn about the United States legal system inside this book. To that point, I wish it was longer. I wish the trials were more drawn out. I wish there were more trials. Intermingled with the trials are details about John Edwards' personal life. His own struggles, triumphs, his attempt to walk on to the varsity football team at Clemson, and, most of all, his family.
It's ironic, if not abjectly heartbreaking, to read the sweet things John Edwards wrote about his wife here in 2003. Over the next few years, he'd be caught in a web of lies, the fibers of which still clung to his image following his wife's death from cancer in 2010. If you don't know, John Edwards had a younger, but not that much younger, mistress with whom he fathered a child. He then tried everything he could, a lot of which was quite indecent, to wrangle out of the whole thing. In the process, he ruined his name and, in my eyes, gravely disrespected his wife, who was accomplished in her own right.
The story gets weirder--as most of these stories do--because in the one interview the mistress provided, she claimed that John Edwards was chronically abused by his wife. Other than that, she seemed to find solace in her having helped "free" him from his "geeky" image and connecting with "Johnny" (which apparently is his birth name) on a "spiritual" level. All of this leads my line of thinking down a precarious road, and that's that, after 2004, John Edwards was simply tired of being John Edwards. At the end of a book that pitted Davids against Goliaths and everyman innocence versus corporate indifference, I'm left with thinking that evil didn't overcome good; maybe being good was the downfall of being good. And so the story of John Edwards will end with nothing other than a hung jury.