William (Studs) Lonigan is fourteen going on fifteen. The year is 1916; the place, a lower-middle-class predominantly Irish neighborhood on Chicago’s South Side. Studs is about to graduate from St. Patrick’s, a parochial grammar school. He’s wearing his first suit with long pants. He locks himself in the bathroom, smokes cigarettes and mugs in the mirror, trying to look tough. He’s saying good-bye to “the old dump,” meaning St. Patrick’s. He’s also saying good-bye to childhood. He thinks of many things as he mugs and smokes, about school and the Sisters and his pals, about Lucy the girl he loves, about his rival and nemesis Weary Reilly. But mostly he thinks about what a tough, grown-up guy he is, and how he won’t be pushed around and told what to do.
His sister knocks on the bathroom door. She has a part in a graduation play and Studs is going to make her late. She’s nervous; she won’t be able to perform. She complains to their mother; she complains to their father. Studs is hogging the bathroom; he’s probably in there smoking. In the meantime, Studs flushes the butt and works frantically to clear the air of tobacco smoke. Nobody’s going to push him around; nobody’s going to tell him what to do. So, begins “Young Lonigan” the first novel in the Studs Lonigan trilogy.
The action takes place over the summer break between grammar school graduation and high school. Studs isn’t sure he wants to go to high school. He thinks it might be better to go to work for his “old man,” a successful painting contractor. Then he’d have money in his pockets, an independent man instead of a boy still in school. His mother definitely wants him to further his education. She imagines her son might have a calling for the priesthood, an extreme example of maternal wishful thinking.
Like just about everyone his age—and many of us older folks, too—Studs is confused and conflicted about many things, including his feelings for Lucy. His only goal is an immediate one; he wants to punch out Weary Reilly and establish himself as the toughest kid on the block, and one of the toughest, if not the toughest in the neighborhood. To achieve his goal, he launches himself on a summer festival of hooliganism: fist fights, bullying, vandalism, petty theft, tobacco chewing and spitting, hanging out with the older guys at the local pool hall, and “gang shagging” the neighborhood “bad girl.” And there’s racism and anti-Semitism expressed in the ugliest epithets, jokes, taunts and gang violence. This is not “Happy Days.”
Much of the novel is written in a skillful, sometimes poetic stream of consciousness, most notably a scene with Studs and Lucy going to a park, climbing and sitting in a tree, the only time in the novel in which they really connect with each other. In another memorable scene Studs and one of his pals go for a swim in Lake Michigan; Studs seems to become one with nature; it’s beautifully written.
Throughout the novel, Farrell’s narrative draws the reader into the head of his young protagonist while giving you a sense of time and place with sharply delineated, sometimes excruciatingly painful realism.
A personal note. I grew up on Chicago’s West Side during the fifties and early sixties in a neighborhood much like the one Farrell depicted. I knew kids like Studs, Weary Reilly, Davey Cohen, Lucy, Helen and the rest. The novel brought back memories, mostly unpleasant, and I give the author credit for his tough and honest portrayal of kids growing up in a particular time and place.