Very Funny Inside-Legal-Academy Law Review Article:

Pierre Schlag's My Dinner at Langdell's (2004). An excerpt:

It was one of those cold wet April Cambridge mornings. Too wet for fog, but too indifferent for rain. My head ached. My lips were dry and my tongue felt bloated. The fever had surely come back. Worse -- the laudanum was wearing off.

Tonight would be dinner at Langdell’s. To say I was apprehensive does not quite capture my condition. It was to be an important affair. I had been asked to attend. It felt like a convocation of sorts -- though to what end, I remained unaware.

It occurred to me that not everyone is invited to Langdell’s for dinner -- certainly not wayward law professors from the provinces. This was an extraordinary opportunity. I took out the engraved invitation from my navy overcoat, just to make sure it was really there. It was, of course -- though having taken it out three or four times previously this morning, the cream-colored paper fibers had begun to separate. The paper felt gummy and the ink was smudged. I coughed and drew my coat around my shoulders. A drink would help.

Langdell, of course, did not know of my present situation. And realistically, how could he? His professional life ended in 1895 when he retired from The Law School. Mine didn’t really begin (if I can call it a beginning at all) until 1991. It would be a chance meeting. By the time I started teaching, he had been dead for nearly 85 years.

I realized, of course, that this would make our encounter all the more difficult, all the more awkward. Indeed, you might reasonably wonder how could we meet at all? A fair question. It is not everyday that a fictional narrator can have dinner with a man who’s been dead for close to 100 years. The problems from both sides are significant. The literary challenge alone is immense.