Fuhrman’s Book Holds No Big Surprises
A basic rule of thumb is that any publishing company will put out almost any book, no matter how foul, if it’s likely to sell well. Note the word “almost.”
Even by today’s go-with-what-sells publishing standards, though, Dove Books and Regnery Publishing deserve recognition as the lowest of the low. Dove’s last biggie was pornmeister Larry Flynt’s X-rated memoirs, and soon that California-based company will publish the colorful recollections of basketball bad boy Dennis Rodman’s ex-wife.
Regnery’s track record is worse, if that’s possible. In 1996 the company’s “Unlimited Access,” tawdry rumors from former White House FBI agent Gary Aldrich, was so foul that even the most devout talk show Clinton-bashers washed their hands of it. Yet the book was a long-term presence on the bestseller list, a fact that does little credit to American readers.
Now Regnery gives us “Murder in Brentwood” ($24.95), former LAPD Detective Mark Fuhrman’s shot at giving his side of the O.J. story. Fuhrman, you’ll recall, practically handed the Simpson defense team its criminal court victory by testifying he hadn’t used the “n-word” for at least 10 years, only to have it proved he had.
From there, Johnnie Cochran & Co. turned the trial into a referendum on rogue white cops. Fuhrman pleaded no contest to a perjury rap and eventually disappeared into the wilds of Idaho.
In retrospect, it seems inevitable that he’d be back with a book. Everybody else remotely connected with the Nicole Simpson/Ron Goldman slayings has or is about to take a shot at six-figure advances and royalties. (One sick rumor is that somebody’s going to publish the ghostwritten account of the Akita dog that was, presumably, the only living witness to what happened that night.)
Fuhrman’s spin on this already overscrutinized tragedy is - surprise! - that he’s a good guy who was used as a sacrificial lamb by the defense and as a scapegoat by the prosecution.
Yes, he did use the n-word with that woman researching police methods, but, hey, he was sleeping with her. Guys do show off in such situations. And he handled the O.J. investigation perfectly. In fact, there was Simpson-sinking evidence on the scene that, for some inexplicable reason, Marcia Clark & Co. ignored during the trial.
Beyond this unsurprising posturing, Fuhrman enlightens us regarding racism in America.
“You can’t be a racist and a good policeman,” Fuhrman lectures. “Life on the street is too complex for ideology. That’s why lawyers, academics and other intellectuals are so obsessed with race. They can afford to be: They don’t live in the real world. … There is no more racism in the LAPD than any other large organization.”
Mark Fuhrman will finish up his current whirlwind tour of the slimier TV talk and “news” shows (“Hard Copy,” anyone?) and then slither back under his rock. Maybe he’s not a racist. Maybe he was sacrificed by O.J. defenders and prosecutors alike on the altar of public opinion.
But of this you can be sure: “Murder in Brentwood” should be read only in the bathroom. The reason should be obvious.