Books like Purple Cane Road — picked by fans

I remember summers growing up when we were out of the house seeking freedom from parents as we streamed toward our teenage years, so I can identify with this story’s start. We’d follow deer trails through brush and trees to spots up in the hills we’d claimed as our own. This book begins with a prologue made vivid with three children and Tana French’s gorgeous prose.

The children go up and over a rock wall and into “A summer full-throated and extravagant in a hot pure silk skin blue…your tongue tasting of chewed blades of long grass, your own clean sweat…” “…long slow twilight and mothers silhouetted in doorways…” and the haunted last sentence, “These children will not be coming of age, this or any other summer.”

We all make choices we later have to live with. Back from war and trained as an Army ranger, Quinn Colson is the sheriff now in Tibbehah, Mississippi, and finds himself hunting an old high school friend turned arms dealer. When you open this book, it’s already flowing, a feel of which I love. It’s as if you’re not watching; you’re already in the boat and can hear the roar of the coming rapids. Colson is in motion. He’s on the hunt. Here’s the way the novel starts,                      

“A couple of roustabouts had been asking about guns at the Tibbehah County fair, but by the time the word had gotten back to Donnie Varner, they’d long since packed up their Ferris wheel, corn dog stands and shit, and boogied down the highway.”

I don’t know of anyone else who so captures time, place, and the idiosyncratic language of the moment that we tend to shake our heads at years later but is exactly right at the time. Winslow is a magician with the nuances.

Here’s how the novel opens in Laguna Beach, California. "Is what O is thinking as she sits between Chon and Ben on a bench at Main Beach and picks out potential mates for them. "That one?" she asks, pointing at a classic BB (Basically Baywatch) strolling down the Boardwalk." "Chon shakes his head." And further down, "O was made for sunshine.' "California girl."

I live in California. I grew up here. Winslow captures the moment. Future historians should read him.

This book got a lot of well-deserved buzz when it was published in 1976, about a year after North Vietnamese tanks rolled into Saigon. It’s not hard to remember tear gas and chants of “Hell no, we won’t go.”

Thornburg captured a mood and feel of what was like out on the street, an America divided. Cutter is wounded badly in Vietnam. Bone had a loathing of self, and the novel opens with, “It was not the first time Richard Bone had shaved with a Lady Remington, nor did he expect it to be the last.” He and Cutter were odd, but somehow, they fit into the zeitgeist. If you come across it someday, read it. 

If I’m being honest—and I’m guessing Ben Shepherd would like me to be honest—I’d be content to list five Burke books here.

Burke is a national treasure. I don’t aggravate easily, but it aggravates me that he doesn’t have a Pulitzer Prize for fiction. He is one of the best combination writers and storytellers on the planet.

In this book, Burke’s protagonist, Dave Robicheaux, investigates a series of murders of prostitutes. There’s a connection to the murders and New Orleans gangster Julie “Baby Feet” Balboni.

In the book, Robicheaux also has conversations with Confederate General John Bell Hood, which has nothing to do with organized crime, but is a great example of Burke’s prowess as a writer. It was made into a 2009 movie starring Tommy Lee Jones as Robicheaux and John Goodman as Balboni. Robicheaux’s sidekick, Clete Purcell, is one of the best characters in crime fiction.

I like all of the Dave Robicheaux novels, but this is probably my favorite. Burke captures the sights and sounds of the Louisiana Bayou with the intense affection of someone raised on the Gulf Coast. In fact, I think he treats the setting as lovingly as Robicheaux treats Alafair, the Salvadoran orphan girl he rescues from a downed plane and raises as his own.

The three-legged raccoon, the wet moss hanging ghostlike from dead cypress, the blue crab shelled with a wooden mallet–just a few of the images that add to the patina of New Iberia. Much of the action takes place in Montana, but Robichaux–and James Lee Burke–return home at the end of the book to the bayou they both love.

Before I read Dorothy L. Sayers’ books, I’d only heard of Strong Poison and Gaudy Night, but as I read through the Lord Peter Wimsey series, I found a favorite 1920s mystery for me, The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club. Wimsey is a veteran of the Great War with an unusual hobby: dead bodies. It might sound creepy, but it isn’t. He’s called on to fix the time of death of elderly General Fentiman, who “pegged it” on Armistice Day. I loved Lord Peter’s droll and self-deprecating attitude. People underestimate him because of his foppish exterior, but he sees what others miss. The investigation touches on PTSD—called shellshock then—in a way that feels timely to me, even after nearly a century. I loved the tour through aristocratic London with Lord Peter.

Dave Robicheaux is one of my favorite characters, perhaps because I can relate to him so easily. James Lee Burke is a master of metaphors and he can offer descriptions of the sky like no other. His storytelling is enjoyable and almost philosophical at times.

In this book Burke's firsthand knowledge of the pristine scenery in Northern Montana shines above his usual inside look at the Louisiana bayou country. Robicheauxs's sidekick, Clete Purcel, is a colorful and easily likable character.

Swan Peak wasn’t as exciting as the other Robicheaux novels I’ve read but it was still a great page-turner and good story.

If there is one central defining quality of noir crime fiction, it is the main character’s struggle to preserve his moral center in a fundamentally corrupt and evil world. The best P.I. novels are able to render this kind of character in brushstrokes that are both beautiful and subtle.

One of my favorites is Ross Macdonald’s Lew Archer, first introduced in this novel. When Archer is hired to find a missing rich guy in a tony, Southern California beach town, he finds himself knee-deep in violence, greed, and deceit, uncertain of who is guilty, who he can trust, and even who is worth saving. A moving target, indeed.

Los Angeles private eye Happy Doll is ticking along nicely, subsidising his detective work by protecting the women at a Thai spa massage parlour from over-amorous clients.

Everything is hunky-dory until he gets into a ferocious fight with a customer who ends up dead. Well-crafted crime noir that manages to be witty and quirky as well as occasionally violent, with pleasing echoes of Marlowe and Lew Archer.