A Look at Louisiana

Into the deep south.....

Waiting at Dallas/Fort Worth airport to board a flight to the Crescent City, the bartender serves me a Lone Star and asks me why nurses carry red pens?  As this is another of the many things I never learned, he tells me it is so they can draw blood..... (Boom, Boom?)

So Farewell? Dallas, Texas, and Hello! N'Awlins, Louisiana, or NOLA as she is known.

The first I ever heard of the Big Easy was, I think, when I heard Lonnie Donegan singing about The Battle of New Orleans:

Well, we fired our guns and the British kept a comin'

And there wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago

We fired once more and they began a running

On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

Of course (?) I knew nothing at all of the history of that 1815 battle, nor that it became a symbol of American democracy triumphing over the old European ideas of aristocracy and entitlement.....  Well, there's a thing?  Who would have thought?  

The next time NOLA came to my attention was when I became interested in jazz, and learned about musicians such as Buddy Bolden, Jelly Roll Morton, Louis Armstrong, Sidney Becket and then Dr John.

And music is still central to the city.  I failed to get into Preservation Hall, which claims to be the best place for Traditional New Orleans Jazz since 1961 (which was ten years before the death of Louis Armstrong) but there is no shortage of lesser venues, such as Three Muses (above) or simply on the streets, both by day:

and by night:

It is a grand city, with more history than much of the rest of the US put together.  It has some elegance, like Jackson Square and the St Louis Cathedral:

And the Vieux Carré, or French Quarter, has lots of character:

But this was the view from my hotel room:

And this was on the way home at night:

If Dallas has something of Singapore about it, I would say that New Orleans has something of Mumbai crossed with Lima about it.  It is big, and loud, and crowded and the air isn't fresh.  Enormous sky scraping chain hotels like the Hilton and Sheraton are filled with tourists and conference attendees, who spill out drinking and dancing onto Bourbon Street at night, or troop around the Quarter with guides to the supposedly haunted locations of the town.

Traffic is huge, as in Dallas.  I am almost crushed by a Huge black pick-up that has a sticker in the back window saying, "Fuck Biden and his Administration: Vote Trump!"

No apologies.....

But the city streets were not built for vehicles of this calibre, even though there are old-fashioned street cars that rattle and clang up and down St Charles Avenue, past the nineteenth-century millionaire homes that hide their rocking chairs under live oaks whose root systems hump up under sidewalks and crack them upward like baked clay (James Lee Burke - Sunset Limited).  

No, I want to see the swamps, the spooky gator infested bywaters of the Mississippi delta, as we saw when we came into land:

Captain Everett is my guide, and he takes us out on a flat-bottomed boat on a tour of the bayous and muddy waters of Honey Island Swamp. This is near Slidell, a town once famous for its large creosote plant on the north-east shore of Lake Pontchartrain.

Captain Everett is an expert and informative guide and we are introduced to something of the local culture, such as houses that can be floated up or down stream as needed:

And to others that may be more permanent:

But the high point (at least for those of us from Norfolk) was the close relations to one of the million or so Alligators that patrol these streams. This one (by the name of Wally) seemed to be secure in the fact that his jaws have a closing force of 2,000 lbs. Gators have been around here for something like 200 million years so I guess they hold all the cards, and I ain't going to argue with this one:

There are snakes a-plenty too:

And raccoons, and almost everything else that likes swamps, including mosquitoes.....

I head back to the city, where oysters taste sweet, dirty rice is just that, and chicken and andouille gumbo is kinda soupy...

Although the population of the greater New Orleans area is around 1.25 million, the population of the actual city was 383,974 in 2021 and its median household income was $45,594 p.a.

The five largest ethnic groups in New Orleans are Black or African American (Non-Hispanic) (57.6%), White (Non-Hispanic) (30.6%), Asian (Non-Hispanic) (2.73%), Two or more races (Non-Hispanic) (2.6%), and White (Hispanic) (2.1%).

23.8% of the population for whom poverty status is determined in New Orleans (at least 88.700 people) live below the poverty line, a number that is almost twice the national average of 12.6%....

By comparison, Dallas has a 2024 population of 1,295,447 and the average household income is $102,023, with a poverty rate of 17.54%. According to the most recent statistics, the racial composition of Dallas is: White (48.14%), Black or African American (23.61%), Two or more races (13.06%), Other race (10.88%), Asian (3.66%), Native American (0.63%) and Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander (0.03%).

All very different from rural Norfolk.....

To gain some wider experience of the history here, I take a trip out to see Oak Alley Plantation (a National History Landmark). This is something akin to a National Trust (or English Heritage) property, now a non-profit trust organised and operated exclusively for charitable, literary and educational purposes. The alley of live oaks, the canopy somewhat thinned out by Hurricane Katrina (a devastating and deadly Category 5 Atlantic hurricane that caused 1,836 fatalities and damages estimated between $97.4 billion to $145.5 billion in late August 2005) is now around 250 years old, around halfway through its potential lifetime.

This 63 acre site includes the East Garden, the West Garden, the Big House, the Allée,  the Garçonierres, the Stewart Family Graveyard..... and 'A Slavery at Oak Alley Exhibit.'

I have a Mint Julep.  (It is all so much to take in....)

Then I have a Bourbon Twist.  (The mind still boggling.)

Extracting sugar from cane was a complex industry and there is a very informative show about this in the Sugarcane Exhibit, but, while I am as much to blame as anyone, there is something very Tate and Lyle about all this.....

This excursion includes another swamp tour, this time on the the Barataria Preserve, one of six sites comprising the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve. More gators. More swamp.  It is captivating, and this time my guide is a native who grew up knee deep in these  brackish flows.  We see a Cardinal, a rare flash of crimson in the greenish grey wilderness, dripping with Spanish Moss:

There's a juvenile Bald Eagle:

Oh, and here's Wally, keen to snaffle up a marsh mallow (a suitable snack for a swampy, methinks) though he may be contemplating a bigger bite:

And we get to handle a baby gator, hand-raised by the authorities, but bewildered by the Mexican sunglasses:

It's copacetic..... I'm just so glad I'm not a tourist......(Doh?)

Back in the city, cruising the concrete highway past the Caesars Superdome (and the ragged shelters of the homeless beneath the overpass) it feels like time to party.  I forget why (which was probably the point....)

 First a crawfish boil:

Then a boilermaker (Abita Amber and Bywater Bourbon) - though I draw the line at depth charges:

I am looked after by my friend Davis, Maitre d' at the Royal Oyster House, who definitely calls the shots - sazeracs, old fashioneds, and worse:

It all rolls into one, and by closing time, we are all life-long friends (though the podner on the left looks a little out of his depth.....)

Whooo!  Saints alive!

What's left? 

A two and a half hour one-to-one tour of the Quarter with Cheryl of the Friends of the Cabildo, during which I get an insight into the many wonderful condos in the neighbourhood:

And a glimpse of past elegance in the 1850 House:

Then a wander round the Warehouse/Arts District, visiting the Ogden Museum of Southern Art (in which there are some beautiful swamp scapes) and the Contemporary Arts Center, in which I take a snap of a local man taking a picture of a picture of a local man.....

Then a paddle down the Mississippi on the Steamboat Natchez (The Natchez's powerful steam engines were built for U.S. Steel Corporation's sternwheeler Clairton in 1925. Her genuine copper and steel steam whistle is a treasured antique. Her copper bell, smelted from 250 silver dollars to produce a purer tone, once graced the S.S. J.D. Ayres) a fun paddle on which the local girls like to look their best:

Where you get a fair idea of the might of the Mississippi and its importance to trade (The Port of New Orleans is one of the busiest ports in the world. It was established in 1717 when France controlled Louisiana. It began as an export for tobacco and indigo, and an import for rice and vegetables, but later grew as a major port for cotton. Steamboats, cargo ships, tankers, and barges are notably seen along the water still today. Approximately 175 million tons of freight are transported along the river each year. Today, it serves as a major port for shipping everything from oil and cars to coffee and poultry). As an aside, the river is 191 feet deep at this point....

And finally a walk round Frenchmen Street (now recognised as one of New Orleans’ best spots for live music; it is parallel to Elysian Fields Avenue and adjacent to Esplanade Avenue. Frenchmen Street is located away from the hustle and bustle of Bourbon Street and tucked between the French Quarter and Marigny neighbourhoods) where either Katrina didn't ruin everything or they have made real good since:

And then past the Cornstalk Hotel (originally built as a home in 1816 for Judge Francois Xavier-Martin, who is best known in Louisiana as a former chief justice for the Supreme Court):

So....

Do you know what it means
To miss New Orleans
And miss it each night and day?

Well....  

To tell the truth, having read a bellyful of James Lee Burke, and eaten Catfish Po'Boy sandwiches, Crispy Oyster Tostadas, Blue Crab Claws, Crawfish Étouffée and downed some 22 oz Blue Moons and a Hurricane or two, I think I can safely say:

Do you know what it means
To miss New Orleans
When that's where you left your heart?
And there's something more
I miss the one I care for
More than I miss New Orleans

Edgar De Lange / Louis Alter

You got it......

Get me home......

Light of the World

Dream Casting - James Lee Burke

You grow up, you grow old.  Who wants to do that?  Relax. Think cool thoughts and don't eat fried foods.  You know who said that?  Sachel Paige.  Everything is very copacetic. You got my word on that.

So says Clete Purcell, in response to Dave Robicheaux's question, Why don't you grow up? on page 79 of James Lee Burke's 20th Dave Robicheaux novel, published in this country in 2013.  

And we are back on the road again.  

For more about these two characters, and James Lee Burke, have a look at my previous piece on this blog http://www.richardpgibbs.org/2012/08/creole-belle.html but for now, join me in a game I like to play.  

Sometimes when I cannot sleep, I cast films of books in my head.  

Last night was one of those nights.  Perhaps my mind was disturbed by the content of James Lee Burke's latest book, or perhaps my daughter's unexplained absence in London on a foul January night kept me from sleep at 2.30am, but whatever it was, I spent an hour or more playing this game, casting Light of the World, using my agency's unlimited potential for calling on any actor, alive or dead.

The game is simple, but, like Desert Island Discs, there is the possibility of infinite permutations of similar ingredients. Louisiana Policeman Dave Robicheaux has already been portrayed on film by Tommy Lee Jones in In the Electric Mist (a sadly slow and flawed film by Bertrand Tavernier) and by Alec Baldwin in Heaven's Prisoners, but, as with many great books, the films are not as rich or rewarding as the text.  There are great films, and some that are better than the books they cook, but on the whole the mind is the best cinema.

To play the game, of course, you've got to know the book.  In this case we have Dave and his wife Molly and adopted daughter Alafair staying in western Montana (near Missoula, where James Lee Burke lives) with their old friend Albert Hollister, novelist and retired English professor and recently widowed. Dave's buddy, Clete Purcell, is staying in a guest cabin on the property, and he is soon joined by his daughter Gretchen Horowitz, who resurfaced from nowhere in Creole Belle, the previous novel. Gretchen had a very troubled upbringing and is now a (reformed) contract killer.

The essence of the plot is that an evil psychopath, Asa Surrette, is loose in the area.  He is supposed to have been killed in an accident in Kansas involving the police truck he was being carried in with a tanker load of petrol, but somehow he made it clear.  He is now on the track of the creative writing teacher (Albert) who dissed his story some years back and the young woman (Alafair) who interviewed him in prison and who wrote defamatory articles in the press about his twenty year killing career.

This is all complicated (enriched?) by the murder of 17 year old Angel Deer Heart Younger, the adopted granddaughter of Love Younger (yes, descended from Cole Younger, associate of Jesse James) who is one of the richest tycoons imaginable, and who seems to be developing shale fracking in Canada, into which Gretchen is researching for a documentary film. Love's son, Caspian, does not seem too upset by Angel's death, though his estranged wife, Felicity Louviere, who comes from New Orleans like Clete, is.  Add in a desultory sheriff (Elvis Bisbee) and his corrupt assistants (Bill Pepper and Jack Boyd) and part Blackfoot rodeo star Wyatt Dixon, and we have a very colourful mish-mash with lots of traded insults.

Get the picture?  It is classic Burke (even if, admittedly, it may not be the very best).  Trouble is not far away. Alafair is winged by an arrow while jogging.  Gretchen gets drugged and sexually abused by Bill Pepper.  Felicity falls for Clete. Bill Pepper gets his come-uppance, permanently.  Wyatt Dixon discovers who his father is and falls in love with Bill Pepper's sister who is then raped by Love Younger's gardeners led by Tony Zappa.  And so the story goes.  Greek tragedy, Medieval Mystery Play, Shakespearean drama, violent soft core noir.....  

I love it. And I think I love it because it is essentially a moral tale with familiar characters. Like the great Western films, it is the clash of good and bad, and though there are moments of doubt and pain, you know that good will triumph.

As James Lee Burke himself said, in an interview with Allen Pierleoni last August, Dave is the Everyman figure out of the medieval morality play and represents many of the values that Americans admire, (including) loyalty and empathy for the underdog. Washington Irving wrote in his journals, “A writer must establish a rapport with his reader, based on friendship and trust and familiarity.” In other words, audiences have to like the protagonist or they won’t read the books, and I’ve never forgotten that. There are reasons why everybody likes Huck Finn.

We like Dave. He is vulnerable, damaged, and yet he wants to support and protect his family from harm. He believes that evil must be combated, and in this novel, not unlike some of the others, the main evil character is really really bad. 

This book deals with the darkest character I’ve written about, a man who is truly wicked. If you’ve been around psychopaths — and I’ve met them — you walk away with a terrible feeling that the person possesses a darkness that goes beyond anything we understand. You finally just say a quiet prayer. walk away and remove that presence from your life. If it gets inside you, it will lead you into depression.

But having come across him here, he has to be destroyed, and so we read on, knowing that he will hurt people, and that he even smells evil.....

So, in my troubled sleeplessness, I review the novel, with its twists and false starts, its slightly heavy-handed biblical references, the extremities of behaviour and the coincidences of misfortune, and I review my stored film references for players to cast in this movie. And to make it more difficult, some of the wished-for stars may be unavailable, due to other commitments..... And so the pattern takes shape, and one thing leads to another.....

Here goes. My dream cast. 

Dave Robicheaux - Spencer Tracy

Clete Purcell - Ernest Borgnine

Perfect from The Wild Bunch

Molly Boyle - Shelley Winters

Albert Hollister - John Huston

One of the greatest grumpy old men

Gretchen Horowitz - Patricia Arquette

Perhaps more fragile than Gretchen, but gutsy in True Romance

Alafair Robicheaux - Penelope Cruz

The Hispanic touch, and a contrast to Gretchen

Love Younger - Humphrey Bogart

Caspian Younger - Harry Dean Stanton

The shifty, spooky kind.  Unpredictable

Asa Surrette, aka Reverend Geta Noonen - James Gandolfini

The most difficult character for us to understand.  Needs real class.

Felicity Louviere - Janet Leigh

Just has to be freaky.  Psycho!

Sheriff Elvis Bisbee - Lee Marvin

Cantankerous, but tough, and essentially a good man.

Wyatt Dixon - Steve McQueen

Also hard to cast, as an incomplete and unfinished character.  Like Steve.

Jack Boyd - Warren Oates

Such a shame Warren always played baddies.  But he was so good at it!

Terry - Steve Buscemi

Just the man for a minor creep.

Detective Bill Pepper - George Kennedy

The kind of guy you would wrongly trust.

Bertha Phelps - Faye Dunaway

It's a start.  I would have the script written by Elmore Leonard and would negotiate with Sergio Leone to direct, Tonino Delli Colli to shoot, and Ennio Morricone to score. 

What more could you want?  When all is said, twenty books with the same characters is like a wonderful carpet - it wears thin in time, but you can still love its weave and colour and  I reckon this would be a damn fine movie.....

Fortunately, my daughter made it home, eventually, having missed the 3.32am train.....

And tonight I will be working on a new version of Great Expectations, with Benedict Cumberbatch as Pip and Marlene Dietrich as Miss Havisham.

The Light of the World - William Holman Hunt

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmVB3tV6rlI

http://www.jamesleeburke.com/bibliography/48.php

http://www.richardpgibbs.org/2012/08/creole-belle.html