These pages recount judges who brandished loaded pistols inside courtrooms, penned poetry instead of judgments, or pronounced sentences from improbable places; the sharp wit and wisdom of the inimitable Justice Scalia; and memorable instances of the British art of courtroom humour. Written with wit, measured sarcasm, and the practised eye of a courtroom insider, these essays do not seek either to scandalize or to sermonize. They simply remind us that the citadel of justice is not always as solemn as it appears—and that the line between what is lawful and what is awful can sometimes be thinner than we might like to believe. This blurring of the line is what makes the law all the more interesting and fascinating.

These pages recount judges who brandished loaded pistols inside courtrooms, penned poetry instead of judgments, or pronounced sentences from improbable places; the sharp wit and wisdom of the inimitable Justice Scalia; and memorable instances of the British art of courtroom humour. Written with wit, measured sarcasm, and the practised eye of a courtroom insider, these essays do not seek either to scandalize or to sermonize. They simply remind us that the citadel of justice is not always as solemn as it appears—and that the line between what is lawful and what is awful can sometimes be thinner than we might like to believe. This blurring of the line is what makes the law all the more interesting and fascinating.