James Lee Burke was the writer who first stimulated my passion for crime fiction when I picked up a copy of Dixie City Jam in an airport bookstore in the mid 1990s. I was gripped from the first page, and since that day I have read more of his books than those of any other author. Every time I open any new novel I do so with a sense of anticipation and excitement, but with Burke those emotions are always heightened.
As a result I have realised that I have begun to come to these novels with far higher expectations and hold James Lee Burke to a higher standard than I do other writers. As a consequence, I have been disappointed by some novels in recent years - even if they have often been among the best and most intense reading experiences I have in any given year.
There was no such disappointment with The Glass Rainbow - the 18th book of the Dave Robicheaux series - a tour de force that delivers the crushing intensity that has marked Burke out as one of the finest American novelists of his generation.
All the themes one expects of Burke are in here: privilege and poverty; the politics and socio-economics of race; the psychology and motivations of the good and bad alike; and the shifting, difficult and emotional demands of famility and friendship.
This is an intensley personal story for Robicheaux - perhaps Burke also - as it closely involves, and threatens, the two people who have been the constants in his chaotic and shifting life: adopted daughter, Alafair, and former NOPD podjo Clete Purcel. Because of that it carries even more emotional weight than most Robicheaux novels, and becomes a dark, stormy and consuming read.
Robicheaux investigates the death of Bernadette Latiolais, an accomplished and promising young student, whose murder seems to fit with a series of others in neighbouring Jefferson County. Possessed with the desire to see justice done for Bernadette, Robicheaux with Clete Purcel in tow, wade in with fists clenched and weapons primed, immediately identifying pimp and dealer Herman Stanga as a "person of interest" in their investigation.
When Stanga turns up dead, and with Purcel unable to account for his whereabouts, the crimes are firmly on Robicheaux's doorstep. At the same time, the aging detective is dealing with the unpalatable sight of his daughter Alafair - home from college to finish her novel - consorting with Kermit Abelard, the scion of an ancient and corrupted Lousiana family, and a man that Robicheaux doesn't trust as far as Purcel can kick him. Also part of Abelard's entourage is a dangerous ex-con - and renaissance literary man - Robert Weingart.
As ever, Robicheaux is guided by his simplistic good versus evil world view and makes a series of decisions that others with a broader perspective might regard as both dangerous and self-destructive. They bring him into conflict with just about everyone he confronts - from the Louisiana aristocrats he despises to his colleagues, friends and family - and the investigation takes on what seems like an inevitable path to disaster.
The story arc is anarchic, violent and hugely compelling with a momentum building throughout that is unstoppable, based as it is on the dynamics of Robicheaux's two most enduring relationships and his struggle to maintain them. As ever the backdrop of the bayou is beautifully constructed, layung over the story like a heavy and humid blanket. For Burke veterans, The Glass Rainbow is essential reading and you will not be disappointed. It is probably not for Burke first timers, however, as it's difficult to imagine a new reader being able to understand why Robicheaux behaves the way he does. As ever, I'd recommend new readers go back to the beginning of the series (and I do so with a degree of envy).
