Scott Turow is gold. He writes; people buy. His readers have come to expect a good story, well-told with the requisite twists and turns. Just when it seems his protagonists are ready to succumb to the crushing burden which overwhelms them, the good guy finds the key which unlocks his chains and delivers him from the clutches of Evil. The reader knows this will happen, but still eagerly anticipates the unraveling of the story.
His legal thrillers are great reads. They propel the reader along on a rising wave of intrigue and difficulties which are typically solved through intellectual effort rather than shoot-em up, bang bang. His novels are well-plotted, the descriptions are good, and the dialogue is effective. They are literate, but his novels do not pretend to be literature.
Now comes Ordinary People, a radical departure from the Turow canon, very different from his novels and his autobiographical One L. This novel seems to fall into the "legal thriller" genre, which some credit Turow as the creator. Even so, it hangs onto this genre by the slimmest of threads. A World War II court martial provides that slim thread.
His legal thrillers are great reads. They propel the reader along on a rising wave of intrigue and difficulties which are typically solved through intellectual effort rather than shoot-em up, bang bang. His novels are well-plotted, the descriptions are good, and the dialogue is effective. They are literate, but his novels do not pretend to be literature.
Now comes Ordinary People, a radical departure from the Turow canon, very different from his novels and his autobiographical One L. This novel seems to fall into the "legal thriller" genre, which some credit Turow as the creator. Even so, it hangs onto this genre by the slimmest of threads. A World War II court martial provides that slim thread.
The opening sentences of the novel set the tone, "All parents keep secrets from their children. My father, it seemed, kept more than most." Stewart Dubinsky is at a crossroads. His father is dead. His career and life are in shambles when he discovers old letters from his father to his mother. These letters reveal that his father, David Dubin, who was a lawyer in the judge advocate corps during World War II, was court-martialed for his actions during the war.
The letters lead him to a 96-year-old lawyer who defended his father. Remarkably, the attorney, still intellectually sharp, has kept the document Dubin wrote so long ago to explain his actions. It is the unfolding of this document that propels the story and reveals versions of the truth.
The plot, then, hinges on two parallel searches for truth separated by 60 years. Dubinsky, who has reclaimed his European family name, is trying find out why his father was court-martialed. Dubin, the father was trying to discover the truth about an OSS (Office of Strategic Services, precursor to the CIA) officer who may or may not have been a traitor. And what of the OSS officer's girlfriend?
The letters lead him to a 96-year-old lawyer who defended his father. Remarkably, the attorney, still intellectually sharp, has kept the document Dubin wrote so long ago to explain his actions. It is the unfolding of this document that propels the story and reveals versions of the truth.
The plot, then, hinges on two parallel searches for truth separated by 60 years. Dubinsky, who has reclaimed his European family name, is trying find out why his father was court-martialed. Dubin, the father was trying to discover the truth about an OSS (Office of Strategic Services, precursor to the CIA) officer who may or may not have been a traitor. And what of the OSS officer's girlfriend?
Gita Lodz is the battle tough girlfriend of Robert Martin, the OSS officer. Is she a heroine, fighting for the good guys in the underground? Or, is she a latter day Mata Hari, who is playing the Germans against the Americans? She is tough and sexy, but is she what she seems to be? Indeed, what does she even seem to be? Who is she? Where does she end up? What is her story?
The reason for Dubin's actions and the reasons for the court martial resonate for us today, whether we have personally experienced war or had a family member involved. When is a war just? When is torture of prisoners just? When can one ignore lawful orders? Turow explores all these questions and more. Ultimately, however, as a good novelist venturing into literature rather than simple story telling, Turow presents us with more questions and does not answer the core issues. These are left for each of us to determine based on our interpretation of the world Turow creates for us.
The reason for Dubin's actions and the reasons for the court martial resonate for us today, whether we have personally experienced war or had a family member involved. When is a war just? When is torture of prisoners just? When can one ignore lawful orders? Turow explores all these questions and more. Ultimately, however, as a good novelist venturing into literature rather than simple story telling, Turow presents us with more questions and does not answer the core issues. These are left for each of us to determine based on our interpretation of the world Turow creates for us.
War is hell, General Sherman famously said. And, while Turow combines and compacts some real events for dramatic purposes, he provides a stunningly real account of the violence and randomness - and, yes, the love and friendships - engendered by war. It was Shakespeare who first spoke of those happy few, that band of brothers
Turow asks us to consider what ordinary people do when confronted by the horror of war while, at the same time, being confronted equally by the need to act, to do something. Dubin's account of parachuting (with no prior experience) into the middle of a battle, with the resulting soiling of his pants, is remarkable.
Ultimately, Ordinary Heroes is not a legal thriller. It is a psychological mystery which explores what makes us who we are as individuals. What is right and what is wrong? War and life are voyages of discovery, and Turow provides us with a well written journal of that discovery. If Turow continues to hone his considerable skills in the vein he displays here, we will have to upgrade his value as a more serious novelist. This is not an ordinary book.
Turow asks us to consider what ordinary people do when confronted by the horror of war while, at the same time, being confronted equally by the need to act, to do something. Dubin's account of parachuting (with no prior experience) into the middle of a battle, with the resulting soiling of his pants, is remarkable.
Ultimately, Ordinary Heroes is not a legal thriller. It is a psychological mystery which explores what makes us who we are as individuals. What is right and what is wrong? War and life are voyages of discovery, and Turow provides us with a well written journal of that discovery. If Turow continues to hone his considerable skills in the vein he displays here, we will have to upgrade his value as a more serious novelist. This is not an ordinary book.
