“We are fortunate to have a functional and independent judiciary.
But when one comes across such gems on the Bench, forget what the ‘other side’ may or may not say, what can anyone say?”
- An excerpt from ‘Other Side to Say’
LEGAL LITERATURE tends to tragically alienate those not fluent with legal jargon and technical complexity. Most books on law and the legal practice explain the legal profession, this book does something very unique, it explains legal personality. Mr. Moray peels back the solemn black robes and lets readers discover the wit, absurdity and humanity that rarely find their way into judgments or legal collective websites with this collection of thirty short stories with an inside view which once you get finished with will leave you wanting more. These stories were first published in The Leaflet as ‘Adaalat Antics,’ and now arrive together as a single collection. Having spent decades in court and clearly possessing an effortless flair for storytelling, Mr. Moray brings together two crafts that rarely meet. The result is thirty short stories that entertain while quietly revealing the culture of litigation.
What strikes you early on is how deliberately unhurried the writing is. There is no attempt to impress the reader with legalese or to prove a point about how challenging the profession can be. Instead each story ambles along at the pace of an old colleague telling you something over a cup of chai in the corridor outside a courtroom, waiting for a matter to be called. That pace is itself part of the charm, because it mirrors what litigation actually feels like on most days, long stretches of waiting punctuated by moments that are either absurd or profound, sometimes both at once.
A lot of young lawyers enter the profession expecting cinematic style drama but the truth is far more human. Litigation tends to demand patience, resilience, observation and empathy aside from just pure wit and grit. This book provides valuable lessons in that without sermonizing.
This book does not descend into mockery but gentle satire with jokes that remind you of how human those that don black robes really are.
Humour in legal writing isn’t difficult but it certainly is an exceptionally rare craft. Books on law most often than not portray those lawyers and judges as super-human or heroic but the reality is far more nuanced. This book does not descend into mockery but gentle satire with jokes that remind you of how human those that don black robes really are. In fact, it makes you develop a sort of deeper affection for the legal profession. Every lawyer, litigant and court-curious passer come across courtroom exchanges or out of courtroom exchanges that leave its listeners one part ludicrous, one part preposterous, one part shock and one part awe. I would recommend it because every lawyer occasionally needs reminding that beneath the robes, citations and endless case files, the profession still belongs to ordinary people capable of extraordinary wit and humour. This book doesn’t just narrate stories, it regales and enchants you with them, and of course the illustrations are just the icing on top.
The illustrations deserve a mention of their own. They are sketch-like, unfussy, and often placed right where a story lands its punchline, which means the humour registers twice, once in the text and once again visually a beat later. It is a small design choice but it adds a lot of texture to the reading experience, especially for a book meant to be picked up in short bursts between hearings rather than devoured cover to cover in one sitting.
Stories in this book can only be described as a bit of a paradox because on the one hand some will make you feel nostalgic about the time someone who has seen a lot more time in the practice than you narrated a story to you about incidents that happened long ago, while on the other it seems like a portal into a side of the Practice you have been oblivious to the existence of. As lawyers, litigants or the ‘court-curious,’ on the surface it appears that the legal world is exactly how it looks at first glance, the grim colours of black and white. But behind these two sober and contrasting colours lies incidents and personalities based on witty comedic and downright fascinating happenings in and out of court. This insider’s edge, through the eyes and ears of Gobble D. Gook is what makes this an absolute page turner.
The pseudonym itself is worth pausing on. Gobble D. Gook, a wink at ‘gobbledygook,’ the very jargon this book sets out to puncture, tells you exactly what kind of guide you are getting before you have read a single story. It is a small joke, but it sets the tone for the entire book, self aware, unpretentious, and in on its own irony.
But here’s the best part, our protagonist and ace storyteller has two other books which give you the opportunity to view the legal world of what happens in Humbug City, Sin City, and of-course the city of Supreme Wisdom and many others through his lens. Read together, the three books start to feel less like standalone collections and more like a loosely connected universe, one where the cities stand in for the many moods of the profession itself, its pomposity, its temptations and its occasional flashes of genuine wisdo
If there is a larger point this collection makes, without ever stating it outright, it is that the law does not need to be defended from humour.
Every family has that one trusted medicine, whether it is paracetamol, cetirizine or some home remedy sworn to cure every ailment imaginable. For the legal fraternity, Fun in Law deserves to be that prescription. Whether you are a law student, a freshly enrolled advocate clutching your sanad, a seasoned practitioner or simply someone fascinated by the stories that never make it into law reports or an introvert who wishes they knew as many witty anecdotes, this is precisely what the lawyer ordered, legend and lore about the courts and the otherwise black and white inhabitants. The reader in me wanted light entertainment and the lawyer in me wanted something gripping. Luckily for me, Fun in Law understands this and has a bit of both. From the second you start reading the first piece titled ‘What a relief!’ till then you will be left in splits.
If there is a larger point this collection makes, without ever stating it outright, it is that the law does not need to be defended from humour. The two have always coexisted in every court corridor and every chamber, it is only in print that lawyers tend to scrub that part out. Fun in Law puts it back on the page, and the profession is better represented for it.