Indefensible: a love story

Chaque notaire porte en soi les débris d'un poète
(Inside each lawyer are the ruins of a poet - Flaubert)

Disclaimer: this is not a review of "Indefensible: One Lawyer's Journey into the Inferno of American Justice" by David Feige. This is a reaction to "Indefensible : One Lawyer's Journey into the Inferno of American Justice" by David Feige.

Do I like it? Yes. Is it good for the public defenders? Yes.

For me, Indefensible is like an episode of Sliders (the first two seasons, before it sucked), where I've jumped into a world which looks a bit familiar, but is filled with unfamiliar traps and peril, characters and comedy. It's cinematic in its forward propulsion and discursive digressions as we follow our Dante into the fire. I wouldn't be shocked to turn on HBO one night and see Indefensible in place of Deadwood and The Wire.

Feige takes us through a day of courthouse triage, where it seems that he's always running, always late, and always juggling which client or which docket will get the least of his limited attention. Who's assigning this caseload anyhow? Three murder clients at one time, and felony clients, and misdemeanor clients too, all waiting in different courtrooms to be tended to. I love vertical representation as much as the next p.d., but here I'm left with a picture of a lawyer who flung himself upon his horse and rode madly off in all directions. Feige is truthful about the doubt and guilt that come from all this hustling, in a nasty system which essentially is structured to make it impossible to render effective counsel to all the people all of the time.

Feige's home base is (or was) the Bronx Defenders, who deserve the praise for their expansive client-centered approach to indigent defense. It's enjoyable and highly entertaining to watch good colleagues doing a good job, and Feige seems good at this job. He ends up as the star of Indefensible, in the fine cinematic tradition of the tough guy with a soft spot, who says, "Some times you just gotta break the rules," as he jumps the metal detector queue on his way to slipping his jailed buddy a pack of contraband cigarettes.

(I would do anything for love(but I won't do that) - Loaf)

So inevitably I start comparing my lazy ass to the heroics of the Bronx Defenders:

* Maybe I should intentionally break the jail rules and risk getting banned from jail visiting in order to establish how sympatico I am with my client? (did that in Ada County with a legal pad, felt manipulated and still got hit with an IAC from the guy; someone in Twin Falls County did it, and we all paid for it with a big new sheet of plexiglas)

* Maybe I should swear at the judge? (oh, sorely have wanted to on occasion - had a colleague who every Monday afternoon had to say "m*therf*cker m*therf*cker m*therf*cker" just before leaving to avoid it popping out of his mouth in court)

* Maybe I should feel guilty for not giving all my clients my cellphone number? (some have it - I only got a cellphone for the first time last year)

* Maybe I should address my clients as "Darling"? (uh, that goes against all my northern European uptightitude, no matter where you stand on the line-drawing issue)

After the twelveth "Darling" or so, it hits me: Indefensible is a romance. Feige seems to have truly loved his clients. Of course, deep affection can bring with it some romanticizing and some gauzy soft focus for those beloved, some idealization of their flaws, some minimization of their nasty habits and some cold fury for their oppressors. Still, who reads a romance for balance? In a world of non-stop Law and Order reruns, it's enjoyable to tune in to Indefensible.