Horace Rumpole is supposedly enjoying his well-earned retirement basking in the Florida sunshine. But a colleague’s casual request for advice on a difficult case sends him hurriedly back across the Atlantic…�
John Clifford Mortimer was a novelist, playwright and former practising barrister. Among his many publications are several volumes of Rumpole stories and a trilogy of political novels, Paradise Postponed, Titmuss Regained and The Sound of Trumpets, featuring Leslie Titmuss - a character as brilliant as Rumpole. John Mortimer received a knighthood for his services to the arts in 1998.
Rumpole's retirement is curtailed by cults and murder...just like he likes it! Rumpole's Return is much the same as any other Rumpole book. John Mortimer had discovered a good mold for this series and he wasn't about to break it. The samey-ness is what fans come for!
I am pleasantly surprised how much I enjoyed Rumpole in novel-length form. It was hard to believe he'd actually retired after the end of the final story in , but in fact his forced stay in the Sunshine State proved extremely useful in his eponymous return to the Bar. Rumpole returns at the behest of Phillida Erskine-Brown (the Portia of our chambers), who has requested his assistance with some key blood evidence in a seemingly hopeless murder case. Rumpole flies back to the Old Bailey and finds himself involved in a weird case involving a sun cult - one which had approached him in Florida, and had abruptly "disappeared" a different acquaintance. In truth, I wish this angle had been explored further (I love a good cult story), but the focus was on the blood evidence, and I suppose back in 1980, this was what constituted an excellent twist. I fear today's technology makes me side-eye Rumpole's triumphant explanation of said evidence, but it was nice to see him back in the saddle and defeating his longtime nemesis Bullingham. Subplots about returning to Chambers, She Who Must Be Obeyed suspecting him of getting his jollies reading dirty magazines, and lots of infidelity (mostly involving the Portia, no less) round out the plot.
Just when I think I’ve visited England’s most famous fictional barrister for the last time without repeating books, I stumble on another one I haven’t read. This one is delightfully short and a grand read by any measure.
Poor Horace Rumpole has essentially been forced into retirement. His son is teaching in the U.S. in Florida, a grandchild is months away from birth, and She Who Must Be Obeyed, (Rumpole’s wife for those of you who have never read the series), is adamant that what the old lawyer most needs is a life filled with sunshine and ease. That’s especially true when you consider that Rumpole has lost most of his last several cases. But sunshine and ease are the last thing the curmudgeonly Rumpole needs.
A casual letter nonchalantly sent by a colleague back home stirs Rumpole back to life and to a decision to return to England. His colleague casually mentioned a murder and had a simple question about blood. Rumpole knew he had to go back home, especially after a bizarre encounter with a member of a sunshine cult left him mildly disturbed. Better yet, he reasons, he can go home without She Who Must Be Obeyed and perhaps start a peaceful life where no one nags him or makes unreasonable demands on his time.
So back he goes to find his office filled with a new attorney. No problem; Rumpole simply moves back in anyway, essentially crowding the young new guy out. This is easy-to-read legal fiction that will take you through the streets of Florida into the compound of a cult and bring you up against a smut publisher.
Only days after his peaceful return home, Rumpole’s wife shows up with all their luggage and the determination that it is her duty to be wherever he is. I think secretly, despite his bluster, he’s glad she’s back, but you don’t ever get that explicitly in the book, so I could be wrong.
This is a super-quick read; I started it before breakfast and had it all but finished when I stepped out of my car at my office door. Literally a few minutes of a lunch hour put the final touches on this, and I was satisfied that Britain was once again in good hands legally. I’ll miss the irascible old fellow, cause now I think I really have read everything out there.
If the book has a down side, it is that it feels a bit contrived. That Rumpole would have a chance meeting with the representative of a cult that would play a major role in the solution of his case back home seems like a rather large stretch. But it’s a small price to pay for the privilege of spending time with a guy you’d definitely want on your side should you ever get into a legal scrape in merry old England.
The first two books of the series were more a collection of short stories than a proper novel. This one, however, is in the format of a novel.
Rumpole and She Who Must Be Obeyed are in Florida, USA, as the book opens. Rumpole had appeared before his nemesis, Judge Bullingham, for 10 unsuccessful cases in a row, and being in a depressed state, allowed his son, Nick, to convince him that a move to the Sunshine State was just the thing. Once the novelty of daily sunshine and warmth had worn off, Rumpole had begun to actually miss the damp, the rain and the Bull. He has a strange chance encounter with a young man that becomes quite significant later on.
He receives a letter from Phyllida Trant Erskine-Brown, the only female member of Rumpole’s Chambers; she tantalizes him with an upcoming murder case in which bloodstains feature. Rumpole has always prided himself on his expertise with bloodstains, and he soon convinced himself that only he can save this unfortunate client.
Rumpole sneaks out one morning and flies back to England without telling either Nick or She; this action, naturally enough, causes some misunderstanding with She, who jumps to the conclusion that Rumpole is having an affair with some unknown female. This is exacerbated by Rumpole’s first case, in which he defends (unsuccessfully) a businessman whose capital is pornography.
Then one of the newer members asks Rumpole to act as lead counsel in a murder case, the one Phyllida had mentioned in her letter. This marks the commencement of a proper murder investigation and proper murder trial, again before the Mad Bull, as Rumpole calls Judge Bullingham.
The Rumpole books are always entertaining, and this is no exception. All the regular characters appear, and all the running jokes are reprised. While any of the books can be read on its own, they do sometimes rely a little on the reader having some familiarity with the characters and how they’re connected to each other, either from previous books or from the excellent TV series which actually came before the books. I was sorry to find that the wonderful TV Rumpole, the late Leo McKern, had never done narrations for the books, but Robert Hardy made an excellent substitute. The books are matched so closely to the TV series that I could see all the characters in my head, and somehow that really enhanced the audiobook experience. Thoroughly good fun!
3.5 stars. Rumpole comes out of retirement in Florida to work on a murder case and pornographic magazines case. Rumpole retired to Florida after losing ten straight cases before the same old Bailey judge. A colleague’s casual request for advice on a difficult case sends Rumpole hurriedly back to his old chambers both surprising and disrupting his old office where no one really wants him back.
An entertaining read but not nearly as good as ‘Rumpole of the Bailey�, and ‘Rumpole and the Primrose Path�.
Another humorous romp with Rumpole. Alas, this one wasn't as fun as the previous books. I think I preferred the books as a collection of vignettes. It kept the feel fresher and and the tone funnier. Still not a bad story though. The end was surprising. I now need to Google if the premise is possible.
This book continues the strong showing from John Mortimer's prior Rumpole of the Bailey series of novels, although with a slightly different format. In Rumpole's Return, the eponymous main character is embroiled in one main case throughout the whole novel rather than each chapter being a standalone short story about a specific case. At the beginning of this book, Rumpole is in a very uneasy retirement in Florida with his son, daughter-in-law, and wife. The easy life chafes at him, to the point that when he reads a newspaper article involving the chambers of law where he spent his whole career, he uproots himself and disappears in the night to return to England and the career he walked away from too soon, leaving his wife behind in the process. She irritably (and understandably so) tracks him down and reunites with him, but mostly remains in the background as she has in the previous two novels. Rumpole's return is met with some resistance, as his position has already been filled in his absence by two new and younger barristers. The bulk of the plot is taken up by Rumpole's inserting himself back into the legal profession where he isn't particularly wanted and generally making a nuisance of himself, as is his tradition. Mixed with his penchant for light deviousness, Rumpole's razor-sharp mind and singular focus on law has returned with the dual purposes of restoring his reputation as a lawyer and forcing his way back into the spot he'd recently vacated upon his departure to Florida.
I've found all three of the Rumpole books so far to be a jolly, lighthearted look at some of the darker aspects of human nature, and it becomes clear the more I read that the main character is intended to be a bit of a nonconformist who sticks up for the little guy. I will admit, at first this didn't quite sink in because the author's idea of rebellion in Britain in the 1970s looks a little different than we'd recognize today in my home country. Rumpole's sarcasm and veneer of polite agreeableness initially masked his more "radical" views, as a fellow barrister describes him in this book. These radical views are things like "the police probably shouldn't frame people" and "ad hominem arguments shouldn't win cases," although he never gets to one that seemed pretty glaring to me: "judges should be impartial." Another one that some lip-service is done to, but which seems odd to even bring up since Rumpole violates this maxim in almost every chapter is "don't lead the witness by directly stating what you want him to say, verbatim when he is in the witness box." These last two were a little bit jarring for me as they don't seem to really flow well with the otherwise intricately-crafted plot, dialogue, and characters. This strange set of discrepancies as well as the way Mortimer has chosen to portray Mrs. Hilda Rumpole prevented this book from quite reaching the stratospheric 5-star rating the previous book earned. Hilda gets the short end of the stick from John Mortimer, there are no two ways about it. Perhaps this is a product of the decade in which this book was written, or cultural differences, or even simply that Mortimer felt her character felt more real due to his choice to make her a stereotype of the hectoring, cold, battle-axe of a wife. There doesn't really appear to be any affection from or for Hilda in this book, although there were glimmerings of this in the previous two. Rumpole at several points talks about how he has no freedom when she's around, and their relationship is what I would bafflingly describe as tolerant hatred. They are rude, petty, vindictive, inconsiderate, selfish, and dismissive of each other in almost every interaction. I know this is a common sitcom theme, and I would imagine in the '70s this was a much fresher take on a marital relationship, but it felt like a missed opportunity to provide some color and happiness to these tales. Mortimer has shown almost every major character to be fallible, and indeed this seems to be strongly-held view of his about the human existence in general. That being said, if Rumpole had perhaps one bright spot in his life outside the Bar, it might make him a more three-dimensional character. Ironically, he is perhaps the most static of all the recurring characters because he's so set in his ways (which he freely admits at times, solely to himself of course). This marriage trope didn't age particularly well in my eyes, and both parties cross some serious personal boundaries with the other in this book, lending some comedy to an already funny book. That being said, I feel as though a loving spousal relationship has ripe opportunity for the exact same comedic relief, and I'm a bit stumped as to why Mortimer chose to make this unpleasant dynamic a main and common thread through his books. There are some bits of dialogue that similarly aged poorly, but as this was written almost 50 years ago I've chosen not to focus on these.
This book, like the previous two, provides the reader with an interesting snapshot of a subject and time period with which I'm pretty unfamiliar. I like to find sectors of history I know very little about and explore them through fiction. While this may not provide the clear-eyed analysis of a history textbook, I find it more interesting as a way of capturing what citizens of these eras and places care about and what the prevailing attitudes and opinions of their day may have been. I recommend this to readers who like legal novels and British humor.
Another fun, funny (and occasionally moving) outing, with one very strange demerit: an entire subplot from the prior book was recycled here almost verbatim, and none of the participants seemed to notice (the "Marjorie wants a divorce and asks Rumpole to represent her" subplot). I'm not an expert on the circumstances of these books, and I read it in the 1st Omnibus form, so perhaps somewhere between tv show, short story, book, book in omnibus, things got shifted around.
Other than that, I very much enjoyed it. For the first time this one has an overarching plot line, with smaller cases and situations also popping up and being decided along the way, and I thought that format worked very well (much like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and how it reinvented television arcs, with episodic monsters plus a 'big bad' for the season).
(Note: 5 stars = amazing, wonderful, 4 = very good book, 3 = decent read, 2 = disappointing, 1 = awful, just awful. I'm fairly good at picking for myself so end up with a lot of 4s.)
Oh, how a little Horace Rumpole can carry one through a tough patch! Our week-long plumbing adventure continues (no kitchen sink or washing machine!), but these few evenings spent quaffing some dry red wine along with Horace have certainly made things much more bearable. Of course, going forward I hope to read him sans such “trials.� When volume 2 ended, it was with a very much up-in-the-air impending retirement for our favorite Old Bailey Hack. We find in this current outing that Hilda had her way, and they now share lodging in Miami Florida with their son Nick and his family. But blessed fate intervenes eith an “opportunity� to assist his old chambers in a ticklish case - just the excuse Rumpole needed to chuck in retirement and re-entry the courtroom fray! This outing is a full length book rather than short stories, but it holds up fairly well in extended presentation; the shorter format is I believe better adapted to Mortimer’s style, but I very much enjoyed this visit and all the usual shenanigans…good stuff!
This is the third Rumpole book I’ve read and the first which is a short novel, rather than a series of different ‘episodes� in the career of Rumpole at the Bailey. After a run of bad luck in the courts, Rumpole and his wife (She Who Must Be Obeyed) retire to sunny Miami to be closer to their son and daughter-in-law. But the lure of the Old Bailey is too strong and Rumpole returns to his old chambers in London. John Mortimer spins an amusing and nostalgic tale. The story, as usual, is peppered with an array of eccentric and humorous characters. While I enjoyed the story, I have preferred the previous two books as there have been a greater variety of cases for the mischievous barrister.
Rumpole is in Florida and finds the relentless sun a chore. He has retired after 10 consecutive losses in a row at the hands of a hostile judge. But he is bored. An interesting murder has occurred in London and the Portia of his Chambers writes to him to pick his brains about blood, he jumps on a plane home, uninvited and without she who must be obeyed. He manages to edge himself back into chambers and court to face the judge again. Mortimer's gift is making the grumpy, tunnel visioned, selfish Rumpole so likeable.
I have to say this book is very funny. Not exactly captivating as a novel (the last court showdown was particularly the exception here).
This is definitely a book that I see many British people (and fans of British humour), really enjoying. As someone who works in the field of courts it was especially a good, relatable read.
It falls short of 5 stars for me because the novel wasn't a perfect read from start to end - some parts fell a bit flat and were a bit unnecessary and made me lose a little interest in the middle of it, but it does pick up!
#3 in the Horace Rumpole of the Bailey mystery series. After losing 10 straight cases before the same Old Bailey judge, Rumpole retires to Florida. However, a colleague’s casual request for advice on a difficult case sends him hurriedly back to his old chambers both surprising and disrupting his old office where no one really wants him back. The story also deals with with two cases, one of which brings him before that same Bailey judge.
I really enjoy Rumple now and again with his intrepid wife, She Who Must Be Obeyed. In this book, he comes out of a brief stint in retirement in Florida, of all places, to defend criminals at the Old Bailey with his usual flair and dedication. Especially good as narrated by Patrick Tull in these unabridged recordings, though Benedict Cumberbatch in the BBC adaptations is quite a treat too of course!
I love John Mortimer's writing style in this series. His use of language is often surprising and always creative and original. The tone is somewhat satirical which perfectly matches the personality of the lead character, Horace Rumpole, a cynical old barrister practicing his trade at the Old Bailey. After reading several short stories and one novela, the plots become somewhat predictable. Even so, it's always a fun ride.
Rumpole is a Falstaffian character, contrived to be as likable as he is despicable, so I knew I would both love and hate the protagonist, which cost this book a star. While it is very engagingly written, the plot hangs on multiple coincidences, one of them so massive that I resented the plotting and lost the basic respect I assumed the writer deserved when I began. Fie.
An enjoyable canter down memory lane through the legal system of the 1970s, with a short excursion into the then exotic holiday destination of Florida, for those who remember the TV series from which this is drawn. Probably less appealing to any who don't. The plot, such as it is, is not to be taken too seriously. It was a Christmas special, after all.
"You're wrong. Wrong about Rumpole. He's the radical. You're not. You'll grow up to be a prosecutor, or a Circuit Judge! But Rumpole never will, because he says what he thinks, and because he doesn't give a damn what anybody thinks about him. And because he can win the cases you're afraid even to do on your own."
(Phillida defending Rumpole against a certain Ken after nearly sleeping with him ...)
Book Review: My first Rumpole novella. I'm glad Mortimer chose to tell a story in this manner. It was refreshing compared to the usual short stories grouped together. I suppose during the time it was written cult-related scandals in the US was rife, and something which persists today (I have in mind Scientology). Wry humour and wit as usual from the Bailey hack, and I am thankful as a result to my subconscious for convincing myself in picking this book up. Especially after a few months of Robert Jordan's Lord of Chaos (which, unfortunately, is my first "slog"-book I have encountered in the Wheel of Time series). I cannot wait for the next Rumpole book, but in the interim, a 1930 book on Ieyasu needs reading. In short, a six out of five.
Certain parts of this book seem really dated, but there's a certain poignancy to Rumpole's loss of identity in his Florida retirement. And of course his stunning return to the Bailey.
Horace Rumpole is 'retired' and living in Miami when a crime happens when a man takes the tube to Paddington. By the end of the book we have been told much information in a dry humor laconic manner.