Article de la revue Maclean’s
Blatchford’s book is a cri d’amour in reverse. Through a series of meandering rants woven out of the many cases she’s covered during nearly 40 years as a newspaper court reporter, she explores how she’s slowly fallen out of love with the mysterious, unaffordable and occasionally outrageous Canadian legal system.


“The judiciary is much like the Senate,” Blatchford writes. “Like senators they are unelected, unaccountable, entitled, expensive to maintain and remarkably smug.” Who watches the judges? she asks. No one but other judges. Numerous anecdotes show the folly of such blind trust.


Every component of the Canadian justice factory gets its turn as an object of Blatchford’s ire. She rails at the lack of respect shown juries, particularly when judges suppress, or even fabricate, crucial details about the accused. She bemoans the politicization of public prosecutions, paying particular attention to the infamous botching of the Paul Bernardo case. And she assails the cloistered judicial appointments process and the insularity of the legal community—although this proves to be the weakest of her outrage-stoking efforts.