Dave Robicheaux
The point of a novel like this: Life is messy, but glorious. Kind of like “The Hadacol Boogie”.
James Lee Burke’s “Clete” is Beat poetry, suffused with sadness and longing for all those sunsets now gone.
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The Annual Francis Davis Jazz Critics Poll at Mid-Year: Warming Up a Riff — How It Happened, and Why It Matters