The Crime of Sheila McGough is about a lawyer who was indicted for, I don’t know, some sort of dishonest practices. She was lawyering for a small-time con man, the con man stole from the wrong guy, the guy got pissed and prosecuted the hell out of him, and Sheila McGough got caught up in it and sent to jail. Janet Malcolm doesn’t think she did it.

Oh my God so boring. Janet Malcolm’s writing is good, but this is the story of a petty possible crime possibly conducted by the lawyer of a petty criminal, and it’s all a bunch of petty boring stuff about, like, putting money in this account and that account and was there a phone call and were there papers–

Tell you what. There may have been a phone call and there may have been papers but you know what there were not? Stakes is what. Jesus. I kept thinking Janet Malcolm was fixing to get to the juicy stuff but she never ever did and the reason she never ever did is that there is no m.f. juicy stuff. I do not care if Sheila McGough did it or not. I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care!

(See, I wasn’t lying. If you know about Janet Malcolm, now is probably the very best time to tell me.)

No other reviews. Not surprised.

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