The Folio Society Rumpole!
/Our book today is a gorgeous 1994 “Rumpole” volume from the Folio Society, featuring ten classic stories chosen by their author, John Mortimer, who introduces the collection by sketching out the very simple guideline he used to select which bits of his large “Rumpole” canon he wanted to include:
In this book I have chosen ten of my favourite Rumpole stories. They are the stories I have enjoyed writing most, those which made me laugh a little when I was writing them (the only reliable test of a successful piece of work), and which drew some laughter from the actors when they read through the televisions versions.
Of course the author of the stories won’t like the same ones as the readers – two or three of my favorite “Rumpole” stories aren’t included in this volume, but on the whole the wonderful mythology of the Rumpole universe is on display here, from our Old Bailey hack himself to his imperious wife Hilda (“She Who Must Be Obeyed”) to his various chamber-mates and the rogues gallery of judges who clash with our disheveled hero in court.
This volume includes “Rumpole and the Show Folk,” “Rumpole and the Younger Generation,” “Rumpole and the Tap End,” “Rumpole on Trial,” “Rumpole a la Carte,” and one of my favorites, “Rumpole and the Bubble Reputation,” in which Rumpole temporarily abandons his “always defend” philosophy in order to train his courtroom crosshairs on Hilda’s favorite author, that premiere bottler of historical bilge-water, Amelia Nettleship:
You may be fortunate enough never to have read an alleged ‘historical’ novel by that much-published authoress Miss Amelia Nettleship. Her books contain virginal heroines and gallant and gentlemanly heroes and thus present an extremely misleading account of our rough island story. She is frequently photographed wearing cotton print dresses, with large spectacles on her still pretty nose, dictating to a secretary and a couple of long-suffering cats in a wistaria-clad Tudor cottage somewhere outside Goldaming. In the interviews she gives, Miss Nettleship invariably refers to the evils of the permissive society and the consequences of sex before marriage. I have never, speaking for myself, felt the slightest urge to join the permissive society; the only thing which would tempt me to such a course is hearing Amelia Nettleship denounce it.
The binding of this volume is rock-solid, and as the best possible treat, the stories are lavishly illustrated by Paul Cox, with distinct hints of the late, great Leo McKern, one of those perfect embodiments of a fictional character (like Joan Hickson as Miss Marple, or the great Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes) that sometimes come along to delight readers.
Of course, the nagging thing about slipcased gems like these Folio Society volumes is that you finish them wishing they just kept going – how I would love a volume like this one that somehow included every Rumpole story ever written, all of them illustrated. But I’ll take what I can get.