Book Review: Glory Be

The first sentence of Glory Be, the first in a new series of mystery novels by Danielle Arceneaux, is “Glory Broussard was tired of waiting.” Neither Glory nor the reader has to wait long: in the first few paragraphs, Glory emerges as a character. Formerly Miss Lafayette (Colored Division), now a cranky church lady working as a small-ball bookie out of the local CC’s Coffee, Glory steps into the world without hesitation as a relatable, vivid, hilarious protagonist. The plot moves along as fast as the character development: within the first few pages Glory’s best friend Sister Amity, an uncloistered nun with a wild past, is discovered strangled.

Glory pitches a fit at the crime scene, causes a commotion at the funeral, and raises hell with the investigators. Confident that the initial determination of suicide is mistaken, Glory begins her own investigation, with the reluctant support of her daughter Delphine, in town for the funeral and to lick wounds after a matrimonial spat.

Our protagonist is no Miss Marple: she falls down, screws up, misallocates blame, gets recognized, and prickles at everyone. If the traditional mystery-novel sleuth is a stiletto, Glory is a blunt instrument, beating at official indifference and red herrings while shouting that she won’t let her friend’s death go unavenged. I absolutely loved her, even if I don’t think I would have the energy to deal with her in real life.

"Local readers will also enjoy watching Glory operate in a recognizable Greater Lafayette. Meche’s Donuts, Ambassador Caffery Parkway, having to drive to Jennings in the rain: it’s all there. You don’t need southwest Louisiana cred to enjoy this book, but it’s an extra treat for people who have moved around in the world Arceneaux describes."

Part of the book’s strength is that it succeeds as a novel. As we follow Glory along her journey, we learn more about her past, which in turn explains why the murdered Sister Amity was so dear to her and why she cannot let the “suicide” go. Divorced and depressed, Glory finds a new purpose in her investigation of Amity’s death, getting her feet back under her and finding herself with a more urgent reason to get out of bed than her feuds at the women’s group.

We also explore the complicated character of Delphine—who acts as Glory’s “Watson” after returning to Lafayette at a moment of crisis in her own life, even as her mother fusses at her (and fusses at her, and fusses at her…). If the novel sometimes feels a little crowded (mystery and self-discovery and mother-daughter relationships and an ill-advised flirtation and older women being dismissed by powers that be and hoarding and the potential difficulties of interracial marriage and…), it’s in part because Arceneaux’s publisher is as eager for more Glory as her readers will be, and a second book is due for release in late 2024. She’s got a series to set up.

Local readers will also enjoy watching Glory operate in a recognizable Greater Lafayette. Meche’s Donuts, Ambassador Caffery Parkway, having to drive to Jennings in the rain: it’s all there. You don’t need southwest Louisiana cred to enjoy this book, but it’s an extra treat for people who have moved around in the world Arceneaux describes. Similarly, the book will be funny for any reader, but some jokes will hit harder for people who’ve lived here: for example, passing reference is made to a woman from New Iberia who got drunk, fell into the bayou, and was attacked by an alligator. External readers may understand intellectually that “Louisiana Woman” is the worthy competitor of “Florida Man,” but those who have lived here and have actually seen similar headlines will nearly collapse in giggles.

One of the benefits of this book-reviewing gig is that I get books for free, which allows me to bestow on Glory—and Arceneaux—this accolade: I’ll pay full cover price for Glory’s next adventure.

simonandschuster.com.