A Morning for Flamingos
James Lee Burke
Reviewed by Carol
Recommended for fans of PI mystery
★ ★ ★ 1/2
With some series, you fall in love with
the main characters. Watch with interest as they confront their
problems, admire their decisions, root for them during lows, and
celebrate the victories. Dave Robicheaux is the protagonist in James Lee
Burke’s series of the same name, and I’m not particularly sure I like
him (Robicheaux, that is, not Burke). I do know one thing, however–I’m
in love with Burke’s ability to bring a setting to life. In fact, if
Burke ever leaves the mystery gig and heads into travel writing, I’ll be
there in a hot minute:
“It has
stopped raining now, and the air was clear and cool, the sky dark except
for a lighted band of purple clouds low on the western horizon. I drove
through the parking lot to the back of the building, the flattened beer
cans and wet oyster shells crunching under my tires, and through the
big fan humming in the back wall I could hear the zydeco band pounding
it out.”
In the fourth installment, Robicheaux
has returned to a detective position on the New Iberia, Louisiana police
force. Unfortunately, soon after his return, he’s wounded in an
incident at work. A hospital stay and prolonged recovery causes a
resurgence of post-traumatic stress disorder and he finds memories from
Vietnam are invading his thoughts. Even after returning to light duty,
he continues to struggle with depression until a friend with the DEA
suggests going undercover in a drug sting. Robicheaux takes the job
despite misgivings, lured by the opportunity for revenge more than any
concern about the federal War on Drugs. The job also gives him a chance
to work with his former partner, Cletus Purcel, now running a club in
New Orleans. Even more challenging, it means infiltrating the mob and
getting information on Tony Cardo, aka Tony the Cutter, a rising wiseguy
in the Gulf drug trade.
It’s hard to sum up a plot of a mystery
without giving too much away, but suffice to say that this is relatively
straightforward. In general, Burke’s plots aren’t particularly
formulaic, but there does seem to be a particular pattern of conflict
within each book. Robicheaux is largely reactive, driven by his demons
and his emotion, and alternates between a more idyllic conflict-free
existence in the bayou, periods of active self-destruction and periods
of depression. Progress and action on the mystery is driven by either
his mood or external forces acting on him. Meanwhile, in his personal
life, he eventually finds a woman who represents everything he’s missing
and then crashes into disappointment when she fails to live up to his
expectations. This particular story isn’t as casually violent as others
in the series, although there remain a couple of nicely tense action
scenes and one gratuitous Godfather moment. There are a couple of plot
points that cause wrinkled brow or stretched credulity, and a B story
that isn’t integrated as well as it could have been, so it is slightly
less satisfying.
Characterization is stellar. I believe
Robicheaux exists somewhere out there, although I’m not sure I’d like to
spend significant amounts of time with him. I remain especially
disappointed that he is so quick to leave his adopted daughter Alafair
with friends or family when he’s following one of his cases. Alafair has
had extensive loss–her father likely killed by Contras, her mother dead
in a plane accident, her ‘adopted’ mother killed. While Dave recognizes
this, he still is driven enough by his obsessions to ignore the
consequences to leaving her. It is precisely due to Burke’s skill in
characterization that I feel such sympathy, and such frustration. It is
also interesting witnessing Robicheaux’s dealings with the black people
in the book, as there is a degree of emotional complexity that doesn’t
easily boil down to categories. While he has some sympathy for a black
prisoner, Tee Beau, and his grandmother, later in the story he is very
disrespectful of their belief in a black witch-woman. However, Tee Beau
is comfortable calling him out on it, which says something for the
quality of their relationship: “In one way you like most white folks, Mr. Dave. You don’t hear what a black man saying to you.”
Ultimately, it can be sad and tiring to bear witness for Robicheaux;
although he is very human with moments of generosity and kindness, I get
the exhausted sense I’ve done this before. Burke doesn’t write
mysteries quite as much as he writes an exploration of the human spirit
in all its contradictions.
Overall, a solid installment in a detective series exploring inner conflict. I’ve already planned for the next, A Stained White Radiance.