The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [444]
Yet through the years charges have been leveled at Farrell by some critics: that although Studs is a powerfully conceived character; an enduring figure in American literature, the rest of the characters are not subtly enough differentiated, as for instance Studs’ sisters and girl friends; that Farrell depended too much upon memory, his imagination being fatally limited so that the trilogy does not convey the whole density of human experience, as in his sketching of Phil Rolfe’s swift conversion from Judaism to Catholicism in order to marry Loretta and in the superficial picture of their subsequent relationship; that, in fact, his understanding of human relations was too sociological, that he was tone deaf, unable to modulate the speech patterns of his characters; that conciseness was not among his merits in the trilogy. All of these charges contain truth to a degree. An objective defense would ‘ admit them. But such criticism, which would have been enough to relegate other works to a minor place in American literature, is almost irrelevant in the case of Studs Lonigan. The reason for its assured place as a classic lies- elsewhere. It has nothing to do with the fact that Studs Lonigan has become a model for other naturalistic writers, though it is difficult to conceive of such powerful works as Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead and Jones’ From Here to Eternity and such mere facsimiles as Levin’s Citizens and Motley’s Knock on Any Door being published and becoming best-sellers had not the trilogy paved the way. It has nothing to do with profound intellect, or subtlety of feeling, or accepted definitions of the novel.
The strength, the lasting virtue of Studs Lonigan is that it grows purposively and swells with a compelling force through many fragmentary episodes until a totally constructed world is imprinted upon the reader’s imagination. And everywhere is evident the cost to Farrell of what he handled. The power of the novel’s conception, its underlying structure, is wedded to poignancy as well as to brutality no matter how tritely or unevenly expressed; there is sadness, not sentimentality, over the wreckage of lives, even of those with whom Farrell has the least affinity. Even when we are not at all touched by the feeling itself or the idea presented, we are affected deeply at times by the importance of the feeling to the author, not because of what he says but because saying it means so much to him. He reveals himself and his onetime friends, neighbors, and enemies with fidelity to the “facts” of art.
We still see updated versions of Studs all around us, young men whose minds are a muddle of choking resentments, slack thought processes, and dampened idealism. Their fictional blood brother is masterfully conveyed in all his inarticulateness. Farrell is able, without actually changing Studs himself so much, to alter the impression of the reader, who is at first amused by the pretended “real stuff,” then sees Studs’ gentler side, and so on. The reader sees that an endless mosaic of actions and reactions in his environment gradually re-presses the finer side of Studs’ nature and forms the distinct contours of his split self. There is the one whom the reader knows as a real person while the other is an illusion that Studs has of himself in his daydreams, an illusion shared to an extent by Mrs. Lonigan and Catherine. In part his imaginings make for Studs’ downfall. Occasionally we are too aware of a critical intelligence controlling his thoughts rather than their welling up from below the surface of consciousness. But there is that necessary author’s empathy with his character which comes out of Farrell’s own being.
With a host of minor characters Farrell helps to evoke Studs’ world, giving us such types as the prefascistic Weary Reilley, the simperingly vicious Red Kelly, and the oracular Father Shannon, whose laughable tirades and strenuous exhortations to violence against men of suspected carnal motives toward Catholic girls exemplify the nonsensical prejudices that many possessed and still do. And Farrell makes indirect references to other characters, such as the fanatical polemicist, Father Moylan, who represents Father Coughlin.*