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Our Assessment:
B : some solid elements, but didactic purpose overwhelms story(telling) See our review for fuller assessment.
From the Reviews: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
The Collini Case begins in Berlin in 2001, with the brutal murder of eighty-five year old German industrialist Hans Meyer, "one of the richest men in the Federal Republic".
He is killed by Fabrizio Collini, a recently retired Italian immigrant who worked in Germany for decades.
Collini set up the crime -- he claimed to be a journalist who wanted to interview Meyer -- and he did not flee the scene.
It's all very cut and dry -- except for his motive, since he doesn't want to explain his actions.
He thought about the fact that tomorrow three legally qualified judges, two lay judges, a public prosecutor, an accessory prosecutor and he himself would be sitting in court to try a man.The concept of multiple judges, including lay judges, but no jury -- and how exactly they work together -- is presumably somewhat confusing to readers not familiar with this system. The involvement of a prosecutor representing, in essence, Meyer (or, in this case, especially the company he left behind) -- as opposed to just the government prosecutor -- might also strike readers as unusual (especially when in this case that prosecutor plays a much bigger role in the trial than the public prosecutor). And since the proceedings aren't strictly adversarial, Leinen's role as defense attorney also works somewhat differently than in, for example, the American system. Schirach tries to weave all this information into his story, but not all of it is conveyed entirely clearly. (In particular, one anecdote Schirach offers, as an example of the Meyer company's hired gun (and the man who serves as 'accessory prosecutor' in the Collini trial) Richard Mattinger's tenacity, surely also confuses: doubting a woman's claim that her husband raped her he had called her to the stand and began his questioning with: "Would you care to admit that you've been lying?"; she doesn't care to, and he keeps questioning her -- and then keeps questioning her for fifty-eight more days, beginning each time with that same question. Not surprisingly, she breaks down on the fifty-eighth day -- leaving, however, unexplained what kind of insane judicial system (and presiding judge) would permit the questioning of not just a witness but rather the (apparent) victim in an otherwise straightforward case for anywhere near so long, tying up a court and a case for months .....) Complicating matters in the Collini case, Leinen discovers early on that he knew the victim -- knew him well, in fact, in his childhood, so well that when he visits the Meyer house to go through Meyer's papers the housekeeper greets him warmly, saying: "how good to see you home again too". Meyer was an influential figure for young Leinen, but the conflict of interest doesn't seem to particularly bother anyone -- Collini is fine with it (though he seems fine with almost anything, except telling his lawyer why he did it), and no one else takes issue with it either. The case also brings Leinen back in closer touch with Meyer's grand-daughter, Johanna (whose marriage has conveniently fallen apart ...), making for more potentially conflicting interests. Of course, the big question is: why did Collini do it ? And then there's the question of whether that reason can affect the outcome of the trial. Leinen hunts for connections between Meyer and Collini, but can't find any, and Collini doesn't help him out. Still, given that this is Germany, and that we know from the age of the victim that he was in his prime during the Nazi years, it doesn't take a genius to realize that maybe the connection lies in the war years -- even (?) though Collini must have been a child then ..... On a (rather late in coming) hunch during the course of the trial -- conveniently adjourned for ten days because one of the lay judges: "fell ill with a bad attack of flu" -- Leinen goes digging for information out of town. Coyly, Schirach has him go simply to Ludwigsburg -- not revealing what exactly the building is where he spends so much of his time over the next few days, even noting -- without naming it -- just that: "The government department that Leinen had come to visit had moved there only the year before, in 2000". Maybe German readers all know what he means, maybe it's meant to come as a surprise to everyone; in any case, it's hardly a surprise that the place is Nazi-connected. The place where Leinen digs up the dirt is, as Schirach later does actually finally spell out, the Federal Archive in Ludwigsburg -- home to the 'Central Office for the Investigation of National Socialist Crime'. Yes, Hans Meyer turns out to have once been SS-Sturmbannführer (apparently the equivalent of a major in the army) Hans Meyer, and as such had blood on his hands. And so the link to Collini is established. So The Collini Case progresses, predictably but intriguingly enough, into the story of and behind a revenge-killing -- as it was always clear the crime had to be. Schirach briefly shifts the story to Italy during World War II to present what happened there -- not his strong suit, but it gets the job done -- but otherwise he focuses on the present-day. Along the way there are other small twists of some interest: the Meyer-company efforts to steer Leinen away from this PR-poison, even by trying to bribe him, for example. And there's the potential romance with Johanna ..... And Schirach even comes up with an explanation of why Collini waited until 2001 to act. But, as it turns out, the purpose of all of this is for Schirach to point out another injustice -- a failure of the law itself (a failure slipped into the law in 1968). This is actually pretty interesting, and Leinen's courtroom heroics -- though, again, hardly American-style theatrics -- lay out this case fairly well. Unfortunately, it's a somewhat awkward fit with the rest of his story -- as then also demonstrated by Schirach's unconscionable cheap ending regarding the fate of Collini in all this. Didactic overkill doesn't completely kill the novel, but it's more than the novel (or Schirach) can really handle. There is a lot here that is of interest, and Schirach's quick sketching of scenes and quasi-objective and neutral tone are quite effective for such a law- and process-dominated work. He tries to juggle a bit much -- a couple of scenes of intimacy are particularly awkward, beginning with Mattinger being pleasured by his Ukrainian girl-toy -- and is a bit too ruthless in just getting to the quick (especially in disposing of Collini at the end, when he becomes an inconvenience). The novel does walk readers through a young, talented lawyer learning the ropes on the fly quite well. But Schirach also has these very big ambitions, and has a specific point in mind; unfortunately, he didn't find the ideal match to accomplish that with his story and how he has presented it. The legal terminology makes Anthea Bell's English-English even more conspicuous than usual, and while American readers are presumably familiar enough with British white-wigged courtroom dramas from television and books to not be thrown too much by that, it does does make the whole proceedings feel all the more foreign. The terminology does give Bell some trouble too, but even beyond that, this is not her finest work; the source material shares some of the blame (Schirach can at best be described as an ... unusual stylist), but not all. - M.A.Orthofer, 27 November 2013 - Return to top of the page - The Collini Case:
- Return to top of the page - Ferdinand von Schirach, the grandson of Baldur von Schirach, is a German lawyer and writer. He was born in 1964. - Return to top of the page -
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