I'm surprised that the average rating (3.78 at present) for this book isn't higher; I'm also surprised that the lower-rating readers haven't included any commentary.
In the last six months, I've attended two events where Judge Gertner was a speaker, so a number of the anecdotes were not new to me. Even so, it was hard to put this book down. It's not shocking that she writes clearly and draws the reader into the story: those skills have made her the lawyer she is. I especially liked that she tells many of these vignettes in such a way that you want to know how the case ends up, but without manipulating the reader into feeling the suspense. She doesn't employ any of the clichés of courtroom drama, or oversimplify or mischaracterize legal doctrine, that you sometimes see in writing about the law for lay audiences. This is a book that lawyers (probably experienced ones, and certainly green ones like myself) can really appreciate.
I find myself feeling a bit conflicted about how she writes about family, from both the doctrinal and personal angles. She is honest about how her desire for a spouse and family surprised her and how she was surprised to find one. She is also honest about the modesty of her expectations for family life: she loves her work and, except for when her children are very young, most of the child-rearing falls to a nanny. She doesn't claim to be especially close to her children, though she loves them and is grateful for them, and she seems content with this. Fair enough; I don't know how well society might work if everyone made the same choice, but I don't have the standing to criticize her own decision. At the same time, her own story doesn't quite fit her pro-choice theory. Briefly, she argues that abortion rights are necessary because women must have the right to define their role as something other than mother, or as not-mother. This type of idea is what you see in Justice Kennedy's opinion in Planned Parenthood of Southeast PA v. Casey and elsewhere. But that begs a couple of questions. What does it mean for a woman to have the mother role? When can she claim it? When can she be said to have it, whether she claimed it or not (if not at her child's conception)? And if she can willingly claim the role as a largely absent mother, molding the role to fit her other values and priorities, what does it mean to not want any form of the role? This is not to say that the pro-life side of this argument is perfectly cohesive, at least as it is typically expressed, but her account brings out an interesting inconsistency.