This was a great book. All Farrell devotees should read it. As for one of the other comments. Dorothy B. Farrell, James' wife is still very much alive, trust me.

This fine book is remarkable for many reasons. It presents an excellent portrait of Farrell just as he was getting underway as a soon-to-be prominent novelist. Additionally, it offers an unusual and refreshing look at literary Paris in the early 1930s-recreating the scene as the Farrells (still in their 20s) saw and experienced it. Previously neglected writers such as expatriate Bob Brown (and his wonderfully zany Roving Eye Press) are given their due here. The amount of day-by-day detail in this book is amazing; what's more, it is both scholarly and loving. As always, Edgar Branch has done wonderful field work too (in both Chicago and Paris) with his trusty camera. This book is a must for JTF devotees. Further, it ought to be read by anyone with an interest in the intense American/Parisian literary and publishing scene of the late 20s and early 30s; or the making of American literature, period. It reads like something of a novel itself.Dorothy Farrell, who is still very much alive, must have been amazed by it. You will be to when you buy the book.

James and Dorothy Farrell are dead. They are not co-authors of this book. They are the subject of the book. Someone was either asleep or smoking funny cigarettes when they prepared this entry, which needs to be fixed. The only author is Edgar Marquess Branch. After you get this fixed, you might also note that the book is a finalist in this year's Society of Midland Authors Awards for biography. Thank you.

Mencken helps to keeps me sane. When I can no longer stomach euphemisms, political correctness or the praise of mediocrity, along comes Harry to slay the idleheaded icons of modern American society. He accomplishes the task as effortlessly today as he did in the 1920s. It shows he was either ahead of his time, or things never really change. While those not familiar with Mencken might be unacquainted with some of those harpooned by him, a little research and reading will clear up the unfamiliarity. As for Mencken's style, vocabulary and content, one word describes them: priceless. Prejudices and Mencken's Chrestomathy should be required reading in every school across the nation. This book, like most of his writings, is not for the weak, for those easily offended or those who measure all things with the modern yardstick of self-righteous indignation. These people will be screaming half way into the first page. Keep your generals, kings and the like. If there were one person from the past I could sit with over a schooner of beer it would be the Sage of Baltimore.

I have recently finished "Prejudices," by H.L. Mencken. I knew little of the author, save that which I had gleaned by reading one of his other books ("A Discourse on the Gods," I think it was.) But, after coming away from the Satanic wag's essays, I am inclined to accord him a place in the pantheon right next to Nietzsche, Mark Twain and Socrates. An evil, little man! Acerbic, brilliant, roaringly funny! History buffs will appreciate the insight these essays will give on the values and mores of the Early 20th Century and the light his intelligence throws upon the world around him--and around us today. Because, as it turns out, the greatest accomplishment of this witty court jester, this slayer of phonies and defender of common sense is his talent for uncovering atemporal, universal principles which are as true today as they were a hundred years ago . . . or a thousand! A brilliant work from a glowing mind, the secret thrill in reading it is seeing how little everything has changed and what a short distance we've really come since the Age of Troglodytes.

After years of searching secondhand stores for "My Baseball Diary," I was delighted to find it back in print after a long hiatus. Farrell takes off his novelist's hat and delivers a straightforward homage to the game. Unlike George Will and others who have exhibited an unfortunate tendency to overanalyze baseball and lace their writing with social commentary, Farrell reminds us that we attach ourselves to the game as kids, and forever after our love for it comes from childhood.

Most remarkable are Farrell's clear and unadorned memories of the White Sox games that he saw as a boy growing up on the South Side of Chicago. He devotes a great chapter to detailing a no-hit game he saw pitched by Ed Walsh, one of his many childhood heroes. You feel with him the mounting excitement as Walsh approached recording the final out of his gem.

Farrell also brings vividly to life the 1917 White Sox, the "No-Hit Wonders," who batted just .228 as a team but who went on to win the World Series handily. His admiration for the team is plain (and he writes convincingly of the strengths of individuals on it), but he doesn't back away from expressing the disappointment the infamous 1919 team delivered him. At the same time, we get from Farrell the point made much later by Eliot Asinof in "Eight Men Out": that owner Charles Comiskey's economic abuse of the team contributed to the decision to throw the Series.

Fans of the White Sox will appreciate the portraits of Ray Schalk, Eddie Collins, Joe Jackson, Buck Weaver, Nick Altrock and many others. Farrell shows he was a close observor of the nuances of the game from a young age and never slips into mere idolatry.

Overall the book is a fine evocation of baseball when the game and its players were more tightly integrated into the communities it served and fascinated. Farrell turns his writer's eye to the past and returns with memories bathed in the light of childhood.

There has been so little written about James T. Farrell that this book comes as a welcome entry. It gives a very nice overview of the Chicago that James T. Farrell grew up in. And it juxtaposes the Chicago of his many novels with the geographic locations. In my opinion, James T. Farrell is a wonderful novelist who has not gotten enough publicity among the academic community. Read "Studs Lonigan" and you have a marvelous portrait of the Depression years in urban America. Read "The Silence of History" and you have a brilliant depiction of a man's soul.

An aimless work of stark realism, "Studs Lonigan" has the distinction of being one of the earliest Irish American bildungsromans, a trilogy of novels covering the later half of its title character's life from his grammar school graduation in 1916 to his ignominious death in the depths of the Great Depression. In between there's a lot of drinking, fighting, singing, grumbling, praying, implied swearing and sexual activity, bad prose, and not much else.

William "Studs" Lonigan is an archetypal boy growing up in a tough working-class Irish neighborhood in Chicago's south side. The oldest of four children, Studs is a lazy student and, despite his mother's wish for him to enter the priesthood, flounders in high school and wastes his time hanging out in poolrooms and getting in scraps, ultimately going to work for his father's painting company. Farrell successfully turns the Chicago neighborhoods into interesting fictional settings, but he never manages to elevate Studs and his boorish friends above the flatness and dullness of negative stereotypes.

Farrell paints a candid, savage portrait of racism and bigotry in the Irish American enclave. There is a genuine fear of blacks moving into and taking over their neighborhoods, and a distrust of Jews as real estate agents who are orchestrating this migration and as "international bankers" who have sunk America into its Depression. To be fair, these sentiments are not unanimous among the Irish characters in the book, but they constitute a world view expressed by Studs's financially embattled father and shared by many sympathizers.

The book's prose matches its protagonist: simple, gritty, and slovenly. Farrell writes in the third person, but the voice is Studs's; the young man's thoughts concerning life, love, and sex are of the most basic. The third novel of the trilogy, "Judgment Day," is the best, in which the writing matures with Studs as he becomes engaged to a nice girl, worries about his weak heart and his inability to stop smoking, and struggles to find lucrative work during the draconian economic times. Here the book also achieves a sort of dramatic crescendo, as general anxiety about the Depression, panic over closing banks and plunging stocks, and paranoia over "Reds" combine with the ominous state of Studs's health in a nightmare of Dreiseresque misery.

The book has some fine passages, but my overall opinion is lukewarm at best. The simplistic prose, although maybe a stylistic necessity, is no fun when it is used at such length to document a life as uneventful as Studs's; given the clownishness of the violent scenes, at times it's like reading a comic book without the pictures. The book doesn't seem to have any purpose other than to introduce an Irish milieu into the American literary canon -- it certainly doesn't bother to give Studs's life any purpose -- and that just isn't enough to sustain a 900-page novel.

Farrell's groundbreaking work is perhaps the best example of American naturalism that we have. It is the story of the rather brief life of the working class Irish protagonist, Studs, who grows up and comes to manhood on the South Side of Chicago. Studs lives through poverty and the Depression, but not without paying a terrible psychic price. Through a relentless piling up of detail, Farrell is able to convincingly present his thesis, that social, political, cultural, and most of all economic forces conspire to decisively shape human character and choice.

The novel unflinchingly portrays the violence, chauvanism, and racism that pervades the lives of Studs and his friends. They despise those more privileged than themselves, have complete contempt for women, and fiercely distrust anyone from outside their neighborhood, particularly those with a different skin color. They wear their toughness with pride and have no patience for expressions of sensitivity or remorse.

Yet from the opening chapter, Farrell takes pains to show that the young Lonigan is not immune to feelings of tenderness and even love. His portrayal of Studs' romantic adolescent longing for Lucy is convincing and touching, and the author's presentation of it early in the book makes more convincing his documentation of Studs' progressively hardening view of life.

Another key element of the trilogy is its sketching of a character increasingly dwarfed by forces beyond his control and understanding. In one key scene, Studs, close to despair as he feels his life slipping away from him, stands by the shores of Lake Michigan and watches the waves pound against the rocks. It's a beautifully naturalistic scene: Farrell uses the images of real life to create symbols of Studs' feelings of helplessness in a world he doesn't understand.

The trilogy is primarily about loss. Farrell, I believe, felt that it was difficult for boys like Studs to escape their fate, but he did not feel it was impossible. What was required was character of a sterner stuff than Studs possessed. Studs comes to stand for a generation that wasted its potential on alcohol, petty crime, and on a foolish pursuit of the quick buck. Where imagination was required to dream up a world different than the one to which he was born, Studs settled for the here and now, and it cost him dearly.

"Studs Lonigan" takes the reader into a world that Farrell knew firsthand. He makes you live in the world of doomed youth and refuses to pull any punches, right up until the last page has been turned.

"Studs Lonigan" written by James T Farrell follows the life of William "Studs" Lonigan from the ages of sixteen to thirty. Originally three separate novels, this book was ground breaking in its day for its gritty realistic portrayal of life in an urban centre frilled with the trappings of alcohol, violence, womanising, an array of street characters yet also, family, loyalty, disillusionment, media and historic commentary. In essence Farrell has created a massive work using 57th and Indiana on Chicago's Southside as a microcosm for a varity of themes, notably the changing position of the Irish community in America, the effects of the great Depression, World War one and youthful idealism with modern actuality. This story is overall one of tragedy on two levels. For Studs he dies young realising in sure strides that he is overall very little, contrasted to the headstrong youth that based himself after the gallery of cinematic idols he perceived. Yet also for a time and place that was obviously a watershed for the author, Stud's degeneration mirrors other aspects Farrell sees as problematic in Modern America. The book narrative basically takes us through Studs life. We first meet him as a young boy of sixteen. He stares at the mirror practising his sneer and chews a cigarette in the typical tough guy manner of his day. His father, a well to do Irish-American businessman, and mother wants him to become a painter and priest respectively. What follows however is a catalogue of Studs adventures with the street corner element of Chicago, brandishing memorable characters like Weary Reilly, Tommy Doyle, Slug Mason and Five Star Hennessey. Generally a coming off age tale where love, labour, alcohol and violence mingle, Studs dreams of being a football star, of going to war, of being the toughest guy on the block, of getting married, of taking the world by the throat and strangling it into submission. However as the story develops he is increasingly disempowered. His appearance in it self is not enough to attract girls so he has to rely on his tough hard edged image to win their emotions adding to his inner confusion of never being able to say what he wants confidently to the opposite sex. Alcohol and casual violence with run ins with less conscionable compatriots i.e. Reilly eventually lead him to phneumia and a weak heart. By his climatic fight with his younger brother in which Studs is overpowered his mental fall is complete. No longer the tough guy, just a guy. What marks Studs out, as an original protagonist is his is thoughtful questioning nature. His hard image ride on his belief of his own invincibility-which of course lies more in fiction and cinema than in reality. Studs ideas of romance and heroism are all evoked through his inner images. When these colourful fairy tale ideals are broken which form the tone through roughly half the novel something in Studs is gone and you can feel the dark clouds gather. Farrell here I feel makes the universal point of what should be and what is and the passed on notions that encircle certain activities. The fall of Studs is the fall of all dreamers that's why in sympathy for Studs almost reflects sympathy for us. Where Studs fails, is where we fail. Farrell's innovative use of slang (authentic street language) all through the book acts to bring the reader completely into the mindset and place of the characters. The speech patterns and gritty tough guy mannerisms and comments are realistic shown to let the novel act as a commentary of a time and a place. The language in the book is colourful, vivid, edgy, realistic and vital. Vital because of Farrell's obvious aims. To bring a person into your known place you need to firstly to place them in the street (the detailed descriptions of 57th on Indiana achieve this.) Next, place them in the mindset of a central character in this environment (the narration of Studs Lonigan). Then give your readers a key into this community (the ultimate key of language). James T Farrell uses the language so completely and accurately because he realised its importance in life as a real thing (Stylised writing describing these people just would not work on any level) and he brilliantly manipulates it to forfeit the above criteria. Another vital aspect of the novel is the amount of detail that Farrell reveals the divergence of ethnic transition in twentieth century America. His neighbourhood is one of Irish abstraction, white and blue collar. The Irish being the first mayor emigrant group to land in mass in the United States formed the first "ghetto" like neighbourhoods, which for all the wrongs associated with such sections of the urban arena also brought a sense of transplanted community and a sense of belonging. Studs early life is increasingly bothered by the rumours of an imminent black shift through distant neighbourhoods coming ever closer to their own area. Threats and blame are passed yet eventually that foreign object a "black face" becomes common leading to the exodus of the Irish community. This transition occours at an exceeding rate. By the books climax Studs father returns to the old neighbourhood unable to recognise or accept his forced separation from an area that formed his past. Here is a man with a dying son, bankrupt due to the Depression and without even the security of place to pacify his mind. Yet what are the questions Farrell is posing us through such transitions. Is Farrell blaming the spread of other ethnics for the decline of urban community? Is he lamenting the weakening of the hold of the Irish community on American life and politics? Is he a racist? The answer I believe is none of the above. Here is a man of a certain ethnic group who has lived to see his own past become a thing of memory. Lonigan Senior portrays Farrell in the novel. The old times and ways are gone, in Modern America what was stable does not last long, The sway, movement and influxes represent American expansion and growth, its greatness if you like but Farrell points to generations dislocated and a population with out roots. Lack of roots breeds uncertainty. Such issues and thoughts are not uncommon in modern American literature yet Farrell handles the ideas objectively. We ask and answer our own questions in the book. Overall Studs Lonigan is a fascinating piece of fiction. Farrell deals with enough motifs, ideals and elements to fill many more novels. Yet his achievements are in creating a thoroughly sympathetic and realistic character in Studs Lonigan, a character we can root for, learn from and grow with. He identifies us with a whole neighbourhood, puts us in that place and time and leads us through a series of events, both on a personal and a historic level. To retain interest and to create such lasting effect is the mark of a great (and largely forgotten) writer working at the peak of his powers. A must read mingling history, fiction and a central protagonist whose struggle with life never quite leaves you.