Book Review: Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders (2004)
“Do you not recall,” Leo McKern would state while tilting his head back and gazing into the studio lights, “the Penge Bungalow case… which I won, alone and without a leader?” The Penge Bungalow murder case was to the Rumpole television/book series what the Giant Rat of Sumatra was to Sherlock Holmes — an investigation referred to but never documented… until now. And not only that, but Rumpole and the Penge Bungalow Murders also fills into a lot of the other unknowns of the Rumpole universe: how he first met the Timsons and the Molloys, how he joined Chambers, how he became an expert in the science of bloodstains, and, most unimaginably of all, how he met and became wed to the fearsome She Who Must Be Obeyed.
This was undeniably a huge risk for author John Mortimer. Revealing hitherto unknown background details often leads to disappointment, with the audience preferring the answers their imagination had provided. (Remember how disappointing it was when we finally learned Kramer’s first name on Seinfeld?) Yet, Mortimer seems to have done just fine with this grand unveiling. History will decide whether the Penge Bungalow murders depicted here are worthy of the reverence bestowed upon them when they were simply vague references, but this reader was not disappointed.
The story is told as a series of flashbacks, with the great lawyer himself finally deciding to tell the tale, lest it be lost to and forgotten by the next generation. This is actually a nice compromise. The younger Rumpole is less confident in interacting with his peers, but he is presented by the voice of the older Rumpole. Therefore, the familiar grumpy, witty narrator known well from previous books is maintained. (The existence of the Rumpole television series — and especially Leo McKern’s unmatchable performance as Rumpole — made it very difficult for me to visualize this one. It’s hard to imagine a younger, slimmer Rumpole when the image of the older, plumper McKern is so unshakably fixed inside my head as the definitive Rumpole.)
The mystery itself is pure and classic Rumpole. One part deduction, one part wine-induced inspiration, and one part sheer luck (Rumpole even comments on the certainty of chance), the formula will be familiar to any previous fan of the series. But, the advantage is that it feels fresh enough that if you liked the style before, you’ll like it again, but probably not be tired of it. The social commentary (a usual feature of these stories) is present again and works well at grounding the story, preventing it from being too fluffy.
Mortimer’s gift of characterization is back too. Apart from the title character’s appeal, he fills in a lot of the details of characters known of old: C. H. Wystan (She Who Must’s father and Rumpole’s Head of Chambers), Uncle Tom, Bernard the solicitor, etc. It’s partly Mortimer’s characters that make this such a wonderful series. Even Erskin-Brown and “Soapy” Sam Ballard, who have only extended cameos, are utterly believable — even given that they are painted with pretty broad strokes.
This is not the book to begin exploring Rumpole if you are new to the series. You’ll be wondering why some trivial-seeming elements are treated with grand importance. But if you’re already fairly knowledgeable of Rumpole, then you simply cannot miss this — a classic story and a lot of questions finally answered. I really enjoyed reading this, and I hope that the revelations are not a sign that Mortimer feels ready to leave the series.
This review was originally posted on January 12, 2005.
