Criminal Law Library Blog
Introduction
The search for truth occupies a central place in both the legal system and the literary arts, yet each pursues that goal through fundamentally different means. Courts promise truth through structure, rules of evidence, burdens of proof, and sharply defined issues designed to resolve disputes while safeguarding liberty. Literature, by contrast, seeks truth through expansion, probing motives, identities, and moral consequences that resist neat resolution. This tension between procedural certainty and narrative depth lies at the heart of an illuminating conversation between Professor Rodger Citron and the author and attorney Victor Suthammanont, whose professional life bridges these two worlds: See Citron, Roger. Law Literature, and the Search for Truth, VERDICT (Justia) 11 December 2025.
Drawing on his background in drama, his experience in high-stakes legal enforcement, and his debut novel Hollow Spaces, Suthammanont offers a compelling framework for understanding how law and literature approach truth differently, and why both are necessary. Trials, he observes, are not designed to uncover the totality of what happened, but to adjudicate specific claims within carefully constrained boundaries. Fiction, however, can inhabit the “hollow spaces” left behind: the unspoken contexts, the internal lives of participants, and the broader social forces that shape legal outcomes. Together, these perspectives suggest that truth is not singular but layered, emerging most fully when legal judgment and literary insight are read not in opposition, but in dialogue.
The Trial as a Limited Adjudication
In the legal realm, “truth” is a highly structured construct. As Suthammanont notes in his conversation with Citron, the American trial system is not necessarily designed to uncover the “totality of a truth.” Instead, a trial is a functional mechanism for adjudicating specific claims. It is bound by rules of evidence, procedural safeguards, and a narrow scope of inquiry.
When a jury delivers a verdict, such as the acquittal that opens Suthammanont’s novel, it is not making a definitive statement on historical reality. Rather, it is determining whether the prosecution has met a specific burden of proof based on a restricted set of facts. In this sense, legal truth is “procedural truth.” It prioritizes the preservation of liberty and the integrity of the adversarial system over an exhaustive exploration of the human condition.
Literature and the “Fuller Truth”
Where the law is restrictive, literature is expansive. Suthammanont argues that while a trial is limited by its function, fiction and journalism can strive for a “fuller truth.” Literature allows for the exploration of the “hollow spaces”, the gaps in the official record, the internal motivations of the actors, and the systemic pressures that the law often deems irrelevant.
In Hollow Spaces, Suthammanont utilizes a dual timeline to explore themes of racial identity, the “model minority myth,” and the sense of invisibility experienced by Asian Americans. These are nuances that rarely survive the “relevancy” filters of a courtroom. Literature provides the context that the law must strip away to remain “objective.” By moving beyond the binary of guilty or not guilty, fiction can address the moral and emotional consequences of actions, offering a truth that is felt rather than just proven.
The Overlap: The “Truth of the Moment”
Despite these differences, Citron and Suthammanont highlight a vital point of intersection: the human element of observation. Suthammanont’s training at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts informed his legal practice, specifically in reading the “truth of the moment.”
In the legal world, this manifests as assessing witness credibility. Suthammanont shares an anecdote about identifying a lie during a deposition based solely on a physical reaction, a giggle. This “dramatic” skill, the ability to perceive subtext and emotional honesty, is essential to both the actor and the trial lawyer. Both must look past the “script” (or the testimony) to find the underlying reality of the individual.
Conclusion
The dialogue between Professor Citron and Victor Suthammanont suggests that law and literature are not opposing forces but complementary ways of understanding the world. The law provides the necessary structure for social order, acting as a “guardian of liberty” even through its inherent imperfections. Literature, conversely, provides the depth and empathy required to understand the people whom the law governs.
Ultimately, the search for truth requires both: the legal system to settle our disputes and provide justice, and literature to remind us of the complex, messy, and “fuller” human truths that a verdict alone can never fully capture.