The Convict and Other Stories is an early James Lee Burke work, one which pre-dates any of the famed Dave Robicheaux novels. Many of the themes that Burke takes to a deeper level later have their inception in this collection.
There are some wonderful stories here, but two I found not quite to the level of the best. In "The Pilot," a pontoon plane pilot who works dirty deeds for Klauss Stroessner, whom Marcel believes is a Nazi war criminal, hates Stroessner for that and also, by the way, because Stroessner is "diddling" Marcel's wife, Amanda. Whether or not Stroessner actually is a Nazi is unclear. Regardless, Marcel's revenge is adolescent. I found the story pointless and the protagonist particularly distasteful with no redeeming qualities.
"Lower Me Down With a Golden Chain," despite its intriguing title, is unfocused and rambling. Maybe that's the point, but I found the constant shifting gears to be a distraction. The unnamed narrator, a journalist and college English teacher, is for most of the story in war-torn Guatemala, where he finds himself interviewing fighters on both sides. He thinks back to his days in Wichita, where he teaches, to the time of Daniel Berrigan and his protests against the draft and Titan missiles housed locally, to his childhood in New Orleans. In the story's favor is the awful depiction of the cruelty and impersonal slaughter of war.
The other seven stories range from really good to breathtaking. Burke is outstanding at writing children, and several of these stories feature young boys and teens. (Burke's best portrait of a child, Alafair, is yet to come).
JLB get kids right. Writing realistically about children is one of his great strengths. Claude is the narrator of “Losses," a convincing tale of innocence lost, a way of life long gone. In this story, JLB focuses on Claude, a ten-year-old fifth grader, who unnecessarily suffers childlike yet profound guilt in his daily life This story is a wonderful, achingly beautiful tale about, in part, being brought up Catholic pre-Vatican II, that is, before the early 1960s. The children, the sisters, the priests, JLB gets every detail right. (Those of us who were raised Catholic and attended parochial school in the forties, fifties, and sixties can attest to the realism of this world). Reading it, you are filled with emotion for the losses, the sadness, the pain that sit right under the surface and can barely be articulated.
Hackberry (Hack) Holland, the grandson of the older Hackberry, makes an appearance as a teenager in "Uncle Sidney and the Mexicans." Hack is smitten with his co-worker picking tomatoes, Juanita, who is Mexican. In his attempt to befriend Juanita, Hack hits multiple brick walls. His Uncle Sidney, with whom he is spending the summer, helps him to fight back against flagrant racism.
Another English professor is the protagonist of "Taking A Second Look." (JLB himself taught English at Wichita State University). Doc has little or no respect for his students, whom he finds boring and uninvolved. Watching a bunch of boys playing baseball in a lot across the street from where he indulges in an afternoon drink, his thoughts drift to his own youthful days playing ball. He sees a young crippled boy utilized as a substitute only when his team is so thoroughly trounced that it didn't matter any more. Doc not only helps the boy try to improve his game, but also stands up for others who are harassed by a local bully cop.
"Hack," this one about the grand-father, spends some time with the old coot on his ninety-fourth birthday. Between interaction with family, Hack reflects on, no imagines, that he is back fighting John Wesley Hardin, an event that permeates much of the Holland family series in books to come, and his days as a Texas Ranger fighting by the side of Captain McAlester.
Although it is not explicitly stated, the narrator of "We Build Churches, Inc." is likely the young Hackberry Holland, now grown and a soldier in the Korean Conflict. He is in a ditch with other soldiers, trying to survive an onslaught of North Koreans and Chinese fighters. The rat-a-tat dialogue keeps the reader involved to the story's awful conclusion.
"The Convict" is the last story in the book. It's focus in less on the title character than on the young boy, Avery Broussard, another character who is to appear in later works as an adult, and his parents. Avery's father, Will, is a man of conviction and standards who stands up for his beliefs. "The Convict" is exactly what a short story should be, a slice of life that engages the reader and brings the characters to life in just a handful of pages.
The best story in The Convict and Other Stories is also the longest, "When It's Decoration Day." It is set during the Civil war from and told from the point of view of sixteen-year-old Confederate soldier Wesley Buford. This is quintessential Burke, the images of both the characters and the location so vivid that it is like watching the tale unfold on the screen, the writing gorgeous and lyrical amid the horror of war.
Wesley signed up after his brother was killed at Cold Harbor. His unit approaches burning Atlanta, explosions set off everywhere.
His butternut brown uniform was heavy with perspiration, and the weight of his Springfield rifle...cut into the shoulder bone like a dull headache. His face was drawn in the moonlight, and his long, blond hair stuck out damply from under his gray cap. There was a thin, red-brown scar under his eye, like a burn, where a Minie ball had flicked across his face at Kennesaw Mountain (where, for the first and only time, he had seen Negroes in Yankee uniforms break through the fog, kneel in a ragged line, and shoot at him---a vision so unbelievable to him in the turning mist and the scream of grape and cannister that he lowered his rifle and stared again until the Mine ball ticked across his face like a hot finger).
Later that night, Wesley is called into the Lieutenant's tent:
Beyond the fire the lieutenant was seated over a small folding table inside the open flap of his tent. The light from a candle that he had melted to the table flickered on his pale, handsome face while he wrote in a steady motion with an ink quill across a piece of paper. Wesley watched him as he would someone who moved about in a strange world that he would never fully understand, one that existed above all the common struggles that most men knew.
As the men shaved willow poles from a creek bed, slanted them into the ground, and stretched their slickers over the notched ends and weighted the bottoms with rocks to make dry lean-tos...The moon had risen with a rain ring around it in the green twilight, the mist started to gather in the woods, and the first drops of rain clicked flatly on the high spread of branches overhead.
The lieutenant elevates private Buford to Corporal and enlists his aid as a scout. Throughout his days as a soldier, Wesley is consumed by the terror and violence of the war and fears that he does not have the ability to carry out the lieutenant's order, to live up to his trust that Wesley has the courage necessary to fulfill the mission.
This unforgettable story closes with a line that will take your breath away.