Reviewed by: The Letters and the Law: Legal and Literary Culture in Late Imperial Russiaby Anna Schur Muireann Maguire Schur, Anna. The Letters and the Law: Legal and Literary Culture in Late Imperial Russia. Studies in Russian Literature and Theory. Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL, 2022. xii + 224 pp. Notes. Selected bibliography. Index. $120.00; $39.95. W hentwo minor characters in Shakespeare's Henry VI(Part II) famously agree to 'kill all the lawyers', the specific source of their ire is lawyers' ability to alter lives by writing down words: namely, the fact that 'parchment, being scribbl'd o'er, should undo a man' (Act IV, Scene II). Anna Schur's meticulously researched and subtly argued monograph does not, thankfully, endorse genocide of the legal profession. Instead, she explores, in the context of nineteenth-century Russia, the resentful perception of lawyers as pseudo-authors, whose powers of invention, imagination and rhetoric, freely exercised in the courtroom, allowed them to rewrite — and sometimes to undo — the lives of ordinary men and women. Schur's title, The Letters and the Law, introduces these two conflicting perspectives: that of writers, whose enduring post-Pushkinian status as their nation's conscience endowed them with quasi-legal, and certainly with moral, authority; and that of the newly formed body of professional lawyers, particularly defence attorneys, practising after court reform supposedly modernized the Russian judiciary in 1864. While we learn about individuals on both sides of the debate, Schur's focus remains on particular celebrity lawyers and the literary reactions they provoked from leading authors, during a time-frame bracketed by the 1864 reform and the 1905 Revolution. Within this timeframe, she revisits some of the remarkable epithets inveighed against the legal profession, all adopted and recycled by its critics, ranging from journalistic invective to literary caricatures. They included 'adulterers of thought' (a phrase Dostoevskii borrowed from another source for use in The Brothers Karamazov), the 'attorney-spider' and ' premier amoureux' (both coined by Saltykov-Shchedrin, referring [End Page 155]respectively to the unscrupulousness and ingenuous eloquence he attributed to different types of lawyer), and lirstvo(or 'lyre-playing' — Dostoevskii, again, inveighing against empty eloquence). All this obloquy contributed to the widespread public perception of all lawyers (but especially defence lawyers) as greedy, hypocritical and ignorant — a calumny often combined with antisemitic vilification. Ironically, as Schur shows, newly qualified advocates often modelled their own reputations on those of acclaimed authors, either by actually publishing literature or simply by attempting to accrue, through psychological insight, ethical excellence, or rhetorical brilliance, the magic dust of Russian writers' moral prestige. Other scholars have recently studied other aspects of legal-literary relations in nineteenth-century Russia — notably Harriet Murav ( Russia's Legal Fictions, Ann Arbor, MI, 1998), Gary Rosenshield ( Western Law, Russian Justice: Dostoevsky, The Jury Trial, and The Law, Madison, WI, 2005), and most recently Claire Whitehead's study of nineteenth-century Russian lawyers who also penned genre fiction, The Poetics of Early Russian Crime Fiction 1860–1917: Deciphering Stories of Detection(Cambridge, 2018). Shur's work is informed by all of the above, in addition to extensive study of Russian legal history. The Letters and the Law's original contribution is to show how the legal profession was conceptualizedin late nineteenth-century Russia. Chapter one surveys lawyers' experimental self-fashioning as moral and literary arbiters, drawing on contemporary speeches, memoirs and publications; some advocates were honoured with election to the Academy of Sciences (like Tolstoi's friend, the judge A. F. Koni, who also takes credit for sharing the anecdote that inspired the former's novel, Resurrection). Chapter two re-examines how the celebrated defence lawyer, and accomplished literary scholar, Vladimir Spasovich, won the lurid 1876 Kronenberg child abuse case in favour of the accused (rather like a negative of Atticus Finch). Schur evaluates successive polemics against both Spasovich's ethics and his eloquence, mounted by Dostoevskii, Saltykov-Shchedrin and Vladimir Rozanov, all pillorying the so-called 'Polish lawyer' (p. 58) for the very skills that won the case, and (in Rozanov's 1897 attack) for his implied claim to reputational parity with writers. Chapter three studies the negative clichés accreting around lawyers...