The Great Decision

I just finished a great book this afternoon on the famous Supreme Court case, Marbury v. Madison. The Great Decision is a very readable account of the politics of the early 1800s and how John Marshall established what we know today as judicial review.

Although judicial review seems a given today, in the early days of our nation many politicians (including President Jefferson) believed each branch of government had a co-equal ability to interpret the Constitution. Thus, if the Executive Branch thought a particular law was unconstitutional it could refuse to comply with it. In Jefferson's view, the Supreme Court could not tell Congress or the Executive how to interpret the Constitution. In reading this account of the politics of the time, you get the sense that the path our country took could have been quite different had it not been for John Marshall and Marbury.

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about how a country creates an independent judiciary and what it means to have a constitution. Here in Azerbaijan, and many post-Soviet states, people from the outside came in to "help" create constitutional documents. On paper, these constitutions look quite a bit like western constitutions. They create three branches of government, guarantee individual liberties, and speak in platitudes about the importance of democracy. Yet in practice many of the Soviet-era traditions continue.

Several months ago I went to the Baku Appellate Court to hear arguments in a case on which I had done some work. As we entered the courthouse there was an older woman who was in an uncontrollable rage. She was on the ground screaming as police were trying to get her to stand up and move her off the grounds. I turned to my colleague and asked him what she was saying. She was screaming, "this is not justice" repeatedly.

I can't get that image out of my head. Almost every day I hear stories about the futility of taking cases to court because the scales of justice simply don't work. I certainly don't have the answers on how you take a judiciary steeped on the ways of the Soviet Union and turn it into a functioning independent body. But I particularly appreciated this passage in The Great Decision:

Chief Justice John Roberts likes to tell the story of a Russian judge attending a conference in Europe. When the Russian judge said that he would like to emulate the American judicial system, a European judge sneered, "Why did you come all the way here if you just want a can of Coke?" The Russian judge replied, "Actually, I do not like Coke. I like my wine French, my beer German, my vodka Russian, and my judicial institutions American."

I'm not sure all Russian judges would agree with this sentiment. But there is a certain respect for the American legal system in this part of the world and for the ability of courts to impartially decide cases. (Excepting the courts in my hometown that recently sent hundreds of kids to juvenile detention for kick-backs.)

We got to where we are today in America based on a little wisdom and alot of luck. (Or maybe alot of wisdom and a little luck.) And I certainly don't think we've cornered the market on creating good government or that our way is the only way. But in reading The Great Decision I was struck with great appreciation for those founders who put us on a pretty good path.

Absurdistan

I had tried to read Absurdistan before we left the United States. I picked it up a few times but always got distracted. I'm glad I did, because the book is much, much funnier once you've lived in Baku for even a short period of time. The book takes its reader through a tour of the post-Soviet country of "Absurdistan," which is an oil rich state on the Caspian Sea. Many of the haunts the anti-hero, Misha Vainburg, visits are eerily familiar.

Shteyngart is a genius with words. Two of my favorite lines from the book:

"Even with the car windows up, Absurdistan smelled like the moist armpit of an orangutan."

"In Soviet days, we used to drink from love and pleasure; now we drink because we have to."

And for those who speak Russian, there are little gems hidden throughout the text, special jokes for the knowing. The President of Absuristan is a man by the name of "Debil." My Azeri co-worker has informed me this is most certainly not a polite word.

Although I loved the author's facility with the English language, I wasn't a huge fan of the book. For all of the funny tid-bits, Shteyngart takes his reader through pages of verbal diarrhea. And for those with an aversion to vulgarity, this is not the book for you. (There are multiple sex scenes that are anything but sexy.) So, to my mother-in-law whom I had briefly suggested reading this book, I rescind. This is the kind of book you feel like you should like, but at the end of the day you put it down feeling slightly repulsed and wondering, "what's the point?"

Although, maybe that's the entire aim of the book. It is, after all, Absurdistan.

Book Review: Shutterbabe

About two years ago my friend Sarah gave me a book called Shutterbabe. “Read this, you’ll love it,” she urged. I put the book on my “to read” stack, which somewhat resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But like most law students, reading for fun became a dream and my days were instead filled with legal texts.

But, now that I am enjoying these golden days between the bar and starting my job, I picked it up, dusted it off, and sat down to read it. And I devoured it. Shutterbabe is the memoir of Deborah Copaken Kogen, a photojournalist who as a 22 year old jumped into the fray of the Soviet withdraw of Afghanistan, riding around Afghanistan with a group of Shiite mujahideen (yes, freaking crazy!).

The book is amazingly honest and discusses her challenges as a woman in the world of photojournalism, her numerous love affairs, and several brutal attacks she survived (including when she was raped the night before her college graduation). I am always amazed by memoirs like this. A memoir is not good unless it is honest. And being honest requires putting in print all those little moments when you think, “dear god, I am so glad my parents don’t know about this.” So to reconcile those two competing factors, at some point the author must have to come to grips with the idea that not only will her parents know all of her dirty little secrets, but that the entire world will know. Every mistake that we would like to forget, to cover over, to view with rose colored glasses is laid out there for the entire world to learn, to talk about, to judge.

But that is why Shutterbabe is such an exceptional book. Kogen seems to own her past and in recognizing mistakes, isn’t ashamed of them. From the cocaine use to the one night stands, she tells the story of a young girl who threw herself into war zones in search of meaning and adventure. The story of her life takes the reader through her assignments in places like Afghanistan, Romania, Zimbabwe, and even places like heroine dens in Switzerland. It also takes the reader into the morass that is what we modern women call the “work/life balance.”

I highly recommend this book – great summer reading. You get all the tawdry stuff perfect for lazy days at the beach, but the stories are true and the lessons are real.