Book 8: The Gangs of Chicago

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+