Just over thirty years ago (though sometimes now it feels more like one hundred) I began my career in the UK Civil Service and found myself working in Bloomsbury Tax Office. Despite the name, it was neither situated in Bloomsbury nor included that area in its ‘parish’ It did, instead, cover London’s Inns of Court, and the greater part of the self-employed taxpayers who fell within my domain were either barristers (no baristas back then) or partners in long-established solicitors’ firms working out of chambers that seemed to have changed little since Dickens described them in Great Expectations. Among my allocation of taxpayers was a certain John Mortimer QC, who retained a place in chambers though by then he had more or less completely given up his practice at the bar having established himself as one of the most successful writers of his generation, seeming capable of switching between novels, short stories, plays and television or film scripts more or less at will. It was back then that I first started reading the Rumpole stories that have proved a source of huge entertainment ever since.

This was the original collection of six short stories that introduced the querulous, self-opinionated yet also strangely endearing Rumpole to the world. Of course, it is difficult now to imagine Rumpole without seeing and hearing Leo McKern, who immortalised him in the long-running television series.

Mortimer was clearly a very accomplished barrister, having (unlike Rumpole) taken silk as a Queen’s Counsel, and also sitting occasionally as a Recorder (one of the various grades of judge within the English legal framework). Rumpole never prosecutes, always choosing to work for the defence. He also eschews legal jargon, and even the technicalities of the law itself, preferring to pepper his summation with quotations from Wordsworth, and relying on a pleasing blend of theatricality and pragmatism to win his cases.

The stories are certainly a joy to read, beautifully written and mixing carefully crafted humour and satire against the pomposity of the legal system (though Rumpole himself is, in his way, possibly the most pompous of them all. The cast of supporting characters is also finely drawn, ranging from Rumpole’s frosty, long-suffering wife, Hilda (generally referred to by him as ‘She Who Must be Obeyed’), the feeble commercial lawyer Claude Erskine-Browne and smug head of Chambers, Guthrie Featherstone QC MP. They all complement each other admirably, allowing Mortimer to poke fun at all aspects of the legal profession.

In this first volume the stories are a lot longer than most of their successors, perhaps reflecting the fact that Mortimer had not yet identified Rumpole’s potential for portrayal on television. They are, however, a glorious mix of humour and social comment, minutely observed and joyously recounted. ( )

Though it is the second in the series, this was my first Rumpole. I was charmed, and I fully enjoyed it. Rumpole is an aging, cantankerous barrister. He specializes in defense in seemingly hopeless cases. His domineering wife, Hilda, is "she who must be obeyed." Amidst a cast of thoroughly quirky, thoroughly English characters, Rumpole proceeds in his goal of protecting the notion of innocent until proven guilty, and upholding the importance of the jury. Rumpole's (a.k.a. Mortimer's) use of language is fabulous, calling the court the "palais de justice," describing himself in the third person at just the right time. This volume sees Rumpole sorting out a group of actors, defending a schoolteacher accused of leading on a student, and fighting his family as they try and get him to retire. ( )

very good rumpole stories. listened to on tape ( )

Rumpole is indelibly associated with the late lamented Leo McKern's wonderful portrayal of the character in the long running TV series. This a rare case where the TV image and echo of McKern's voice enhance the experience of reading these droll and entertaining stories. ( )