Heavenly Days

"Heavenly Days" is cause for rejoicing among James Wilcox's fans, a new and long-awaited installment to life in Tula Springs, Louisiana. Is it really twenty years since Wilcox introduced us to this quaint little town just across the border from Mississippi (where virtually everyone goes to shop at the mall)? The pleasure of reading "Heavenly Days", which has all the comedy, eccentric characters and mix-ups as the preceding four novels set in Tula Springs, sent me back to the beginning to re-read those four books ("Modern Baptists," "North Gladiola," "Miss Undine's Living Room" and "Sort of Rich"). Maybe it was the desire to reacquaint myself with Bobby (Carl Robert) Pickens, Mayor Binswanger, the Keelys, the Quaids and Burma (whatever her last name is at the moment), all of whom appear in the newest installment to the drama that is Tula Springs. Maybe it was the desire to experience again Wilcox's enviable ability to find exactly the right word for maximum comic impact. Or maybe it was the desire to go back to visit a pleasant, if somewhat dysfunctional place. Wilcox's characters appear and reappear as if they are members of a repertory company; the star of one has a walk-on, or perhaps only a mention, in another. That is not to say that one must read all of the preceding books to enjoy this one. As a stand-alone piece, it works beautifully. But reading the preceding books adds another level of enjoyment -- and history -- to the experience of reading each individually. Maybe that's why Lou Jones, the star of "Heavenly Days", seems so familiar. Her name does not appear in any of the previous installments, (at least not in a form that I recognized) but we just know that she has been there in Tula Springs all along. Perhaps she was one of shoppers at the Winn Dixie or maybe she was at the courthouse paying a fine to the Citizens Patrol (which is now replaced by a security firm). Like Mrs. Coco in "North Gladiola", Lou has reached mid-life and feels a bit left behind. Unlike Mrs. Coco, Lou has perfected the ability to live in a state of denial. Once a month, she gets up at 4.30 a.m. to write a column for the North American Bassoon Society newsletter, even though she has not played bassoon in several years. While she waits and hopes for a job teaching music at the local community college, she works as the receptionist at WaistWatchers, a fundamentalist health spa, all the while doubting the viability of shedding pounds for Jesus. She and her husband are living in separate houses, but they are not -- as she continually and emphatically asserts -- having marital problems. And, Lou ignores signals her body is sending her -- even though the reader can not -- signals that take her right into the final scene. Wilcox treats Lou with humor, but he never lets us loose sight of her bewilderment in the face of a world that seems to be going on without her.We can always count on Wilcox for zany humor and mad-cap fun. We can also count on him to explo