How the ghost and the words of Chicago writer Nelson Algren are being kept alive
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Nelson Algren will not go away. Though he moved from Chicago in 1975 and died in 1981, he has managed to remain a frequent visitor, in the form of his famous novels, of course, but also in other ways that have given him a strange form of immortality.
Before telling you of the latest Algren appearance, which is a fine book titled “The Short Writings of Nelson Algren: A Study of the Stories, Essays, Articles, Reviews, Poems and Other Literature,” let me remind you of some others.
His books are still read and studied, among them his first novel, “Somebody in Boots” (1935); what I consider his best, “Never Come Morning” (1942); his most famous, “The Man with the Golden Arm” (1949 and winner of the National Book Award); the nonfiction masterpiece “Chicago: City on the Make” (1951). There was 2009′s posthumous collection, “Entrapment and Other Writings,” and biographies, most recently a couple of very good ones, including Mary Wisniewski’s terrific “Algren: A Life”; and two documentary films. The Tribune long presented annual literary awards in Algren’s name, last in 2019. There is a Nelson Algren Museum in Miller Beach, Indiana, and celebrations of his March 28 birthday, and seminars and …
That’s a lot of posthumous presence and now, this new book, which began more than a dozen years ago, when Richard Bales picked up a copy of Art Shay’s 2007 book “Chicago’s Nelson Algren.”
Shay, who died in 2018 at 96, was a great friend of Algren’s. He and his cameras accompanied Algren on his travels to the gin joints, pool rooms, courtrooms, police stations and diners that were the planets of Algren’s universe, and into his messy love affair with French writer Simone de Beauvoir.
Bales is an attorney and the author of the deeply researched and influential 2002 book “The Great Chicago Fire and the Myth of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow.” That book’s persuasive argument that the fire was actually started by a character named Daniel “Peg Leg” Sullivan is what compelled 14th Ward Ald. Edward Burke to proclaim at a meeting of the City Council’s Committee on Fire and Police, “Mrs. Cate O’Leary and her cow are innocent.”
So, Bales brought Shay’s book home and he was soon devouring Algren’s work and realized “there was more to Nelson Algren than his novels.”
You bet there was and Bales was willing to find it. Tirelessly, he dug through files and microfilm, old magazines, newspapers and other sources. He found many book reviews and other nonfiction writings about such Algren passions as horse racing, gambling, the White Sox, boxing.
He calls Algren a “gifted poet” and, in a chapter devoted to that, he offers a lot of short examples. And one of his most stunning discoveries is “The World’s Busiest Police Station,” an article that appeared in a 1950 issue of Negro Digest. “Written more than sixty years before the creation of the Black Lives Matter movement,” Bales writes, “it is a race relations masterpiece.” You can judge for yourself because the whole story is reprinted in this book.
All of this is embellished by terrific photos and Bales’ clear and concise writing. Even the most ardent or knowledgeable Algren fan will find here things new to them and be pleased to have done so.
Bill Savage is such a person. A professor at Northwestern University, he has been hooked on Algren for most of his life, teaching and talking about him and his books, contributing to 2006′s “Nelson Algren: A Collection of Critical Essays,” annotating the 60th anniversary edition of Algren’s “Chicago: City on the Make,” editing the 50th anniversary critical edition of “The Man With the Golden Arm,” and otherwise is keeping the flame burning.
Naturally, he has read Bales’ book and he tells me, “This is exemplary scholarship, meticulous and detailed, delving into what for some writers might be seen as ‘lesser works,’ but which for Algren were two things: how he made his living when the politically engaged fiction he wrote was beyond unfashionable, and a genuine complement to the substantial earlier fiction for which he is best known.
“This isn’t a book for the casual Algren fan: it’s for the dedicated readers and scholars who want a deep dive into things they might have overlooked. The depth of Bales’ scholarship is also demonstrated by the fact that in pretty much every chapter, the footnotes are longer than what he himself has written, and many of those notes are themselves worth careful reading by any Algren fan.”
He too appreciated the section on Algren’s book reviewing: “That’s the best part of the book. Bales’ examination of the sort of books Algren praised or critiqued should be widely read by practicing and potential book reviewers, whether they are Algren fans or not.”
There will ever be a controversy shadowing Algren. As Bales writes, “He really is a tragic figure but it was a tragedy of his own making.”
I have long had problems with Algren. He was a close friend of my parents, dedicated the second edition of “City on the Make” to them and was often a guest in our apartment. But he dated my mother’s sister and did not treat her well. He was a jerk. But the guy could write. I’ll give him that.
