Sat 19 Nov 2022
Reviewed by Barry Gardner: JAMES LEE BURKE – Cadillac Jukebox.
Posted by Steve under Reviews[4] Comments
JAMES LEE BURKE – Cadillac Jukebox. Dave Robicheaux #9. Hyperion, hardcover, 1996; paperback, 1997. Reprinted in several editions and printings since.
Burke is one of the mainstays now, one of those writers who if you haven’t read him you’re either not a real fan of crime fiction, or you like it only on the lighter side. Every generation of crime writers has a few upon whom posterity bestows the tag of “significant,” and I think he’s one of those.
A former Klansman and forever white trash refugee from the piney woods has finally been imprisoned for the decades-old murder of a black civil rights leader. He swears he is innocent, but no one believes him-except maybe New Iberia cop Dave Robicheaux. A politician who wrote a book about the crime is. about to be elected governor, a film company wants to make a documentary proving the man’s innocence, and a New Orleans hit man accuses Robicheaux of taking a bribe to ignore Crown’s case. Robicheaux had an affair long ago with the politician’s wife, and that just may be the final bit of heat that makes the pot boil over.
There is no question in my mind that Burke is one of the best pure prose stylists ever to grace our field. The man can, to coin a phrase, write like an angel, and in the alcoholic and angst-ridden Robicheaux h has created one of the genre’s enduring characters. His books are dark, lyrical, and yes, occasionally overwrought, and maybe even sometimes confusing.
I’ve never read one of his books I didn’t enjoy while reading it, and enjoy a lot; I have finished a few with some lingering dissatisfaction, particularly those in which indulges his penchant for the supernatural.
Jukebox possesses all Burke’s virtues, and lacks, thank goodness, any ghosts — though he couldn’t resist a little mysticism. Thus I rate it highly, as it deserves, but I’m left with a lingering uneasiness that Burke has said nothing new in his last few books, nor said it in any new ways. And however unfair it may be, sometimes sameness, however fine a sameness, may begin to pall.
November 20th, 2022 at 9:39 am
At the time this review was written I think this was the consensus view, that: “haven’t read him you’re either not a real fan of crime fiction, or you like it only on the lighter sideâ€.
Well I still haven’t read him, I’d like to think that I’m still “a ‘real’ fan of crime fiction†and actually prefer the darker side. (As an aside the whole idea of ‘real’ and ‘fake’ people upsets me—it just seems to me like a license to dehumanize).
In any case, it doesn’t seem like anyone talks about Burke anymore. And now that he’s out of fashion I’m a bit more interested. Just because I’m frightened of crowds and suspicious of popularity, I guess.
So—my question is—how does Burke hold up today? Did he ever write his ‘masterpiece’—and if so which one is it? Or is he more like Erle Stanley Gardner—who wrote lots of good things but perhaps no masterpiece?
November 20th, 2022 at 10:42 am
I think the pinnacle was the fourth in the series, A MORNING FOR FLAMINGOS. At that point, Burke perfected and settled into the formula that has sustained him through the 19 Robicheaux novels since. The pattern doesn’t vary much from book to book. That said, I like Burke, a compassionate voice with New Deal echoes. Lately he’s varied Robicheaux with another character, an elderly novelist, Aaron Holland, even more than Robicheaux a surrogate for Burke’s views on the snakes that infest modern America’s Eden. The last few Robicheaux and Holland novels have taken a turn toward mysticism; your mileage may vary.
November 20th, 2022 at 10:56 am
Thanks, Fred, for answering some of Tony’s questions, something I can’t do, since I’ve never read any of Burke’s books. According to Barry, it must be because I like my mystery fiction on the lighter side, which is more or less true, but not completely. I did attempt one of the Robicheaux books, but I quit after a few chapters and never went back. At this much later date it’s difficult to say exactly why, only that it was clear that it just wasn’t for me.
November 20th, 2022 at 3:54 pm
Burke’s masterpiece is probably one of the most supernatural ones IN THE ELECTRIC MIST WITH THE CONFEDERATE DEAD, at least it is the prototypical novel in the series. It was also filmed well with Tommy Lee Jones as Dave (the Alec Badlwin one is good too).
I’m on and off both with Robicheaux and the Holland books having to be in the mood for hard-boiled Southern Fried Gothic Mystery fiction. All that Faulkner and Tennesse Williams meet Raymond Chandler and James M. Cain in the swamp can get too much for me though I really like the Holland series set in Texas usually (less of the supernatural aura too).
Burke is a hell of a writer, but he may, like Parker, have simply stretched too thin over the years. At some point it just became too much work to keep up though Burke in general hasn’t declined as much as Parker and Spenser did. I’ve never wanted to throw a Burke book across the room in disgust like a few Spenser outings.
If I start a Burke novel about either protagonist, I will likely finish it satisfied and entertained if in need of a quick refreshing dip into anything that isn’t sweaty, soulful, and sensual. There is something vaguely claustrophobic about Southern fiction that I can only take so much of.
I prefer Joe Lansdale who explores similar country (so does Michael Kortya in some works) with a bit more humor and a touch of tongue in cheek regarding all that deep East Texas and Louisiana swamp business.
It is hard to nail down why I don’t read Burke like I once did. I can’t say he has changed appreciably from his early work or even that he repeats himself overly. I think some of it is he just overwhelmed me.