Abhinav does not just update Gadbois for the period between 1980-1989, covering each judge separately as Gadbois did, but adds insights into his own by examining the innumerable rivalries between famous chief justices and other judges, including that of his grandfather, former chief justice Y.V. Chandrachud, with former chief justice P.N. Bhagwati. But because he relied on interviews, he sometimes fails to get the full picture. Bhagwati’s appointment was trumped at the last moment by fellow Maharashtrian Gokhale in favour of Chandrachud. At the same time, criticism of Chandrachud was unjustified, because he allowed Bhagwati free reign over PIL cases, which became the latter’s foray. There are bound to be rivalries among top judges, especially as appointments are made to deny seniority or chief justiceship of one over the other. True, in the 1970s, supporting the ideology of Mrs. Gandhi’s ‘socialist’ state was important. Post Emergency, many, except a few judges, sported themselves as ‘activists’. Many chief justices (like Chandrachud) accepted government appointments, except in the case of M.N. Shukla, who was allegedly accused of sexual assault. In 1956, P. Govinda Menon was clearly a Krishna Menon protege. But what we are missing is the whole picture in two senses. First, the role of government does not come out clear or clean. More research was needed on that beyond Abhinav and Gadbois’s remit. Second, given the limited insight into judges’ behaviour inter se, we get very little on how the judges fared as judges. For some of us, Gajendragadkar, who supposedly was a pro-labour judge, jettisoned the trade union movement and paraded Nehruvian secularism. Krishna Iyer quintessentially changed the judiciary. Bhagwati—except for some lapses—was juristically amongst the most capable. For that verdict we have to go through judgments, their inner architecture, purpose and effect. That too is really beyond this engaging introduction to the judges themselves.