A excellent tour of the coming of age by a 17 year old boy in Houston in 1952. This could be the one to help Burke escape getting pigeonholed as a genre writer, based on his success with a detective series set in Louisiana featuring Dave Robicheaux. I have always admired this good-hearted lawman who fights heroically against corruption and evil in the world while struggling with his own internal darkness borne out of his impoverished Cajun childhood, military service in Vietnam, past alcoholism, and rare fits of uncontrollable violence. Along the way Burke has forayed into historical fiction through various generations of the Holland family in Texas and Montana. These can get seen as more crime fiction, despite his continued application of lyrical prose that lifts the reader off the page and exploration of themes mined by the likes of Faulkner and McCarthy to tap into Southern and Western mentality.
This is my 28th reading from Burke’s novels, so I guess that makes me suspect as a biased fan. I’ll try to marshal his own words as much as possible to convey what I admire so much with this one. For example, consider the potency in this one paragraph to capture the naïve optimism of the U.S. seven years after the end of World War 2:
No other country had our power or influence. Music was everywhere. Regular was eighteen cents a gallon. …Those small and inglorious things somehow translated into a confidence that seemed to dispel mortality itself, even though Joseph McCarthy was ripping up the Constitution and GI’s were dying in large numbers in places no one could locate on the map or would take the time to spit on.
The initial setting of is of young Aaron on a summer outing with his father’s car to a drive-in food joint in Galveston. How about this as a topic sentence for the whole book, drawing one with gravity toward a black hole of troubles:
I was about to enter a country that had no flag or boundaries, a place where you gave up your cares and your cautionary instincts and deposited your heart on a stone altar.
There he encounters a smart, pretty girl he admires, Valerie, being verbally abused by an older boy, Grady, the spoiled son of a rich oilman and rice producer. Being a man means intervening, and verbal sparring soon leads to threats. Aaron in a rage is not a pretty sight to see. He worries about the loss of control that begins to come over him like an epileptic before a seizure:
The popping sound in my ears started again. The parking lot and canvas canopy above the cars seemed to tilt sideways; the red and yellow neon sign at the restaurant became a blur, like licorice melting, running down the windows.
Valerie leaves in a huff, but later is won over from his attentions to become his new girlfriend, thereby cinching forever his enemy status with Grady. Soon some harassment by gang youths leads Aaron to suspect Grady is using proxies against them in revenge. Aaron’s bosom buddy Saber escalates the conflict, and the ante gets raised in the form of a new adversary, the vicious son of a mobster, Vic Atlas. Racing around in cars one night to bait Grady, Saber notches up the war by throwing a brick through the windshield of one car, which ends up seriously injuring Vic.
Saber will remind readers of the out-of-control Clete Purcell in the Robicheaux series. Like Clete, Saber is reliably loyal and a great man to guard your back:
People like Saber died on crosses or were lobotomized but never compromised or absorbed into the herd.
As Aaron’s enemies multiply and reveal larger connections, his courage and values get severely tested. He begins to look to the fathers for wisdom as well as for the responsible parties pulling the strings. Aaron’s own father served in the trenches in World War 1, so he knows courage and determination. But no tactics for him to follow, having imbibed that the only way to survive going over the top was to never think about it, or talk about the fighting afterwards. Valerie’s father turns out to be an old leftie who served in intelligence with the OSS precursor to the CIA, and a resource for another kind of limited advice. Saber’s father is a factory worker, so not much help. On the enemy side of things, Aaron puts the bit to his teeth for face-to-face verbal showdowns with Grady’s corrupt businessman father and with Vic’s mobster father.
I am not exposing critical plot turns here, but just raising for your imagination how a generation of fathers, home from the wars, can be responsible for the problems of the next generation while the mess they inherit must be addressed by the inheritors. Aaron tries his best to live in peace, pursuing his idyllic romance with Valerie with dances, movies and trips to the beach, saving up for college by working at a gas station, and riding a bull in the annual rodeo. But we know he must perform a miracle and resolve the dangers headed his way. Saber seems to make things worse, but Aaron will need his dirty tricks. An old police detective, who also is a former OSS agent, as well as a fancy call girl connected to both Grady’s father and the mob are surprising resources that Aaron comes to harness for his mission impossible. A final source of help is a gang member who sometimes does jobs for Vic, a young man Aaron succeeds in befriending by empathy and teaching him to play guitar. A great cast of characters to cover the bases of this post-war ballpark. Lots of powerful or gifted plays by both teams and a great final inning are in store for readers here.
Some find Burke guilty of purple patch in language and overly romanticized use of good versus evil. I think he shows here good restrain on his effusive flights of prose and good nuance in play on morality issues. It seems such a fine, semi-mythtic portrayal of coming of age I have to wonder why he took so long to take up a developmental story.