The Gangs of Chicago: An Informal
History of the Chicago
Underworld
Herbert Asbury
I have always been somewhat
fascinated by crime and criminals, and particularly the ways in which the
parallel worlds of law and disorder coexist- and often interact. And though The Gangs of Chicago (originally
published as Gem of the Prairie) is nearly
75 years old at this writing, it is a vibrant look at some of the seedier
elements of Chicago's
first century. Asbury's own proximity to some of the events described is occasionally
jarring- he mentions several figures from the 1890s who were still alive as of
the book's initial publication- but his book retains an almost academic,
detached air that is at once readable and frustrating. Though the prose is
always accessible to the average reader and the footnotes are infrequent and
unobtrusive, the book lacks a coherent narrative and, more crucially, context.
Certain portions of the book are merely catalogs of characters, even introduced
as mere lists, and many biographies blend together in an endless litany of
sameness; though Asbury occasionally focuses on truly exceptional individuals
and locales, much of the book consists of the same stories told without
distinction. This might make the book an excellent starting point for further studies
and does contribute to a general understanding of the reality of Chicago's vice districts,
but it often makes for dull reading.
When Asbury narrows his focus,
however, the prose leaps to life with its visceral depictions of life in Chicago's underworld. Descriptions
of cheap brothels and the high-class Everleigh Club can make readers feel as
though they are walking the streets of the 1890s-era Levee, despite redundancy
among the descriptions of the lower houses, and a chapter on gambling "resorts"
and the owners' collusion with politicians flirts with narrative consistency. Likewise,
the chapters about serial killers and (to a lesser extent) Prohibition-era
gangs identify and delve deeply into the histories of a few extraordinary and
captivating individuals, surrounding the stories with the kind of atmospherics
that are sorely needed to tell the types of stories that The Gangs of Chicago focuses on. Despite a few moments of clarity,
however, the book is often bogged down by Asbury's desire to focus on the
quantity, rather than quality, of his descriptions.
Though a survey of Chicago crime is a worthy
pursuit and (obviously) contains quite a bit of inherent potential, Asbury rarely
focuses on context and hardly bothers to construct narrative frameworks.
Important characters (particularly politicians) are introduced in passing, as
though readers are expected to already be familiar with their role in the story,
and suddenly become the focus of a paragraph or section pages later, often when
the effects of their wrongdoings have already been described or implied. Readers
looking for political intrigue are advised to look primarily elsewhere, as Chicago's corrupt
policemen and elected officials are only bit players here, despite their
complicity making the already compelling story much more robust. Even if Asbury
intended to focus on more overtly criminal actions, such as robbery, murder,
and general vices (particularly drinking, prostitution, and gambling), the
story of Chicago
crime can hardly be distinguished from the story of its corruption, and it is
misleading to refer to the politicians as indirectly as Asbury does.
Yet the worse sin is surely the
book's ending, which offers a redefinition of the term "abrupt." Al
Capone gets arrested and, oh, by the way, Chicago's
population kept expanding throughout Prohibition and end scene. I'm glad that
the book tends to stay away from grand moral pronouncements, though it is
certainly a product of its time, but surely some kind of conclusion is warranted,
some summary of the life and times of Chicago's
criminals is certainly warranted and would help tie the whole story together. And
though this kind of reflection is elusive throughout the book, the ending is
abrupt to the point of hilarity- I actually laughed out loud, seeing nothing
but a bibliography on the next page. Modern readers will also see the charm in
Asbury's frequent and unironic use of the terms "harlot" and
"strumpet," though the book also uses racial epithets and refers to homosexuals
as "degenerates." Perhaps, then, it is for the best that Asbury limited
his work to fairly objective historical snippets, though his personal judgments
occasionally shine through. Despite its limitations, however, The Gangs of Chicago is a worthwhile survey
of early Chicago
crime, a remarkably readable history that serves as an acceptable, though not
exceptional, introduction to the subject.
Grade: B+