Jesus Out to Sea – James Lee Burke

Even those not especially fond of the short story genre will find much to savor in this collection of short stories by well-known author James Lee Burke. Many will be familiar with the dark themes that emerge in his novels, especially the Dave Robicheaux series, and they are certainly much in evidence in these stories, almost all set in the past of over 50 years ago, except for the last one, entitled Jesus Out to Sea.

Each of the stories, like so much of Burke’s other writing, carries with them the duality of human nature. We sense that sudden and brutal violence is never far from the surface of our souls, yet at the same time, we are reminded that the possibility of redemption is there as well. This duality is especially powerful in A Season of Regret, which begins with a retired professor simply trying to protect his property rights, progresses through an act of defending a seemingly defenseless woman, and ends in a violent outcome not likely to be anticipated by the reader; this outcome , though not directly involving the protagonist, is one he must take ultimate responsibility for.

Even in the short but brutal The Village, told from the perspective of an American operative, probably a CIA agent, there is just the slightest suggestion of redemptive
possibilities. Throughout most of this four page tale, the unnamed protagonist engages in a litany of excuses for the shedding of innocent blood. It is only at the end, while engaged in a brutal act to dispatch a troublesome Mennonite that he seems to acknowledge wrongdoing, by repeating her final words, You must change your way. If the reporting of these five words marks the beginning of that change, all may not be lost for the operative.

Probably the most moving, and certainly the most recent in terms of setting, is the last story, Jesus Out to Sea. Set in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, through the eyewitness descriptions of the protagonist, the odor of failure permeates the narrative – not only the failure of government in its reaction to the disaster, but also the failure of the city of New Orleans, in its transition form a city of hope, camaraderie, and music to a repository of drugs, crime, and desperation. A story offering little of the hope evident in many of the previous tales, its central image of the remnant of a destroyed church, Jesus on a cross, floating away in the floodwaters, is an apt symbol in this chronicle of disillusionment.

For the reader who is not uncomfortable confronting the more unpleasant aspects of life, this collection, eleven in total, has much to offer.

Terrorist – John Updike

John Updike’s latest novel, Terrorist, offers a fascinating glimpse into the world of Islamic fundamentalism, but it is a story not without flaws. The novel’s protagonist, eighteen- year- old Ahmad Ashmawy Mulloy, is the son of an Irish-American mother and an Egyptian father who deserted the family many years before. A young man of high intelligence, he eschews further education after high school, despite the belated exhortations of Jack Levy, a Jewish high school guidance counselor who goes on to conduct a surreptitious relationship with Ahmad’s mother, Terry. At the urging of his imam, Ahmad takes a job delivering furniture for a Lebanese family. This marks the beginning of his being drawn into an explosive terrorist plot, the outcome of which may or may not be credible to the reader.

There is much to commend in this novel, particularly Updikes’s ability to portray a fundamentalist Muslim perspective on the world. In that portrayal whereby, for example, Ahmad expresses his disdain for the glue of the Western world, rampant consumerism, Updike is able to offer some trenchant truths to the reader about the kinds of lives we lead. Consider this masterful section of the book, when Ahmad remembers childhood shopping trips with his mother:

“He would go with his mother … into the vast spaces of hastily slapped up hangers in the ‘big box’ style, where packaged goods were stacked up to the exposed girders. On those trips, narrowly aimed at replacing a certain irreparable home appliance or some boys’ clothing his relentless growing demanded or, before Islam rendered him immune, a long-coveted electronic game obsolete within a season, the mother and son were besieged on all sides by attractive, ingenious things and could not afford… Devils, these many gaudy packages seemed to be, these towering racks of today’s flimsy fashion, these shelves of chip-power expressed in murderous cartoons prodding the masses to buy, to consume while the world still had resources to consume, to gorge at the trough before death closed greedy mouths forever. In all of this wooing of the needy into debt, death was the bottom line, the counter where the diminishing dollars clattered. Hurry, buy now, since the afterlife’s pure and plain joys are an empty fable.”

What a remarkable passage. In just a few words, Updike is able to offer a penetrating analysis and commentary on our consumer-obsessed mentality and the spiritual emptiness underlying it. At the same time, he allows us some understanding of Ahmad’s view of the society he has grown up in, providing some foundation for the choices he subsequently makes.

But it is the latter that also presents some problems. Ahmad’s perspective and choices are, for me, the source of the book’s flaws. Quite frankly, I found it very difficult to accept the credibility of his character. The portrayal of someone raised in American society, embracing Islam at the age of eleven, and consequently being the almost perfect ascetic did not ring true. Granted, Ahmad is a young man reared without a father by an ill-disciplined mother and is undoubtedly seeking both discipline and a father figure in Allah and the Yemeni imam, Shaikh Rashid, who represents him; yet that is not sufficient in my mind to warrant the depiction of a young man so disengaged from the world around him that he will so willingly dispense with it when presented with an opportunity for jihad. It is one thing to try to understand the mind of fundamentalists from a war-torn part of the world, raised in bitterness and penury and hatred of the West’s involvement in their affairs, willing to surrender their lives for what they believe to be a holy cause. It is quite another to imagine this same willingness in Updike’s Ahmad. As well, the plot’s resolution, for me, was also unconvincing for reasons I won’t articulate, so as not to reveal too much.

These caveats aside, I do recommend this book. The prose is elegant yet restrained, and Updike certainly intends the novel, not as a screed against the Muslim world, but rather as a window to our own.

Holding the Bully’s Coat – Linda McQuaig

Whether holding forth on the global economy, the excesses of capitalism, government deficits or the U.S. invasion of Iraq, author Linda McQuaig never disappoints. Her willingness to challenge conventional wisdom, especially that which is promulgated in the mainstream media, is always guaranteed to provide the reader with new insights and rich material to allow him or her to critically examine previously-held beliefs. Whether or not one agrees with the things she asserts, this is her greatest strength as a writer.

Her latest book, Holding the Bully’s Coat, reflects this strength as she examines in both an historical and contemporary context, Canada’s relationship with the United States. She argues that by aligning the country too closely with the policies of the United States, our political, military, and economic elites are sacrificing Canada’s international reputation (one she acknowledges as being exaggerated) and our role as a middle power, as well as jeopardizing our independence as a nation.

McQuaig deals with a number of issues that will have occurred to thinking Canadians over the years, including how our reputation for peacekeeping and compromise is being unjustly denigrated by the right wing; how the United States’ penchant for exceptionalism has essentially made it a law unto itself as it chooses to flout international law, the United Nations, the World Court, the Geneva Conventions’ prohibition on torture, and any other potential restriction on its dominance; the destabilizing effect of the U.S. opposition to nuclear disarmament; and its military’s refusal to abandon Cold War thinking, having simply substituted Islamic extremism for “the Red Menace.”

While the above description may make this book sound like an anti-American rant, it is not. Rather, McQuaig shows, through copious examples and careful analysis, how the citizens of both Canada and the United States are being ill-served by those in power who are quite willing to mislead and manipulate their respective peoples. Indeed, some of her harshest criticism is reserved for the Canadian government, both the current Conservative one and the previous Liberal one, and its often uncritical deference to American policies of very questionable merit.

The book will be offensive to those who think the motives and policies of the United States (and Canada, for that matter) should never be questioned. It will, however, be appreciated by those who want to go beyond media rhetoric and think deeply about issues of importance. It will also appeal to those humble enough never to have subscribed to the jingoistic notion, “My country, right or wrong,” a very dangerous mantra for the people of any free society to adopt.