February 11th, 2018

In his most recent novel—Robicheaux—James Lee Burke’S police officer protagonist, Dave Robicheaux ponders anger, serenity and the real world:

How do you handle it when your anger brims over the edge of the pot? You use the shortened version of the Serenity Prayer, which is Fuck it. Like Voltaire’s Candide tending his own garden or the British infantry going up the Khyber Pass one bloody foot at a time, you do your job, and you grin and walk through the cannon smoke, and you just keep saying fuck it. You also have faith in your own convictions and never let the naysayers and those who are masters at inculcating self-doubt hold sway over your life. Fuck it is not profanity. Fuck it is a sonnet. p. 249

Few people aspire to, let alone attain, this kind of clarity.

This evening I’m pondering the connections between Dave Robicheaux and Don Draper.

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