LET IT BE AT THAT

Allen’s debut novel follows a teenage boy and a priest with a shadowy past through a Chicago neighborhood in flux.

On the South Side of Chicago in 1970, Gary “Weezer” O’Donnell is just a kid, but he feels as if he’s on the cusp of manhood. It’s the summer after seventh grade, and he resolves that he’s done with childish things—so much so, in fact, that he maliciously tells his young friend that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus during a street hockey game. Father Tom Mallon is a 30-something priest from the neighborhood who has a troubled past; his former life as a gambler casts a shadow over his present, as his parishes have had a habit of unexpectedly coming up short on funds. Tensions are rising in the all-White neighborhood, as a local group of neo-Nazis, whom Weezer immediately distrusts, makes some racist residents willing to resort to violence to maintain the segregated status quo. As Tom grapples with his complicated past, Weezer attempts to navigate his confusing present, which is leading him down a potentially dangerous path. Allen’s enthusiastic prose skillfully captures the setting’s variety and drama, as when Weezer takes in the people at a White Sox game: “There were couples on dates, families, groups of boys and girls by themselves, old wrinkly men in straw hats….These were people that Weezer didn’t see in his neighborhood….He wanted to walk up to the old man in the straw hat and ask him, where was he from?” The plot is episodic, bouncing back and forth between Weezer and Tom and between the 1970s of the present and the 1950s of Tom’s youth. Although the book captures something of the feel of the neighborhood at the time, readers may wish for a more unified story. Overall, Weezer’s and Tom’s narratives feel cobbled together somewhat arbitrarily, and it’s not entirely clear why they’ve been paired together. Still, Chicagoans, in particular, are sure to enjoy aspects of this slice-of-life work.

A lively, if slightly shapeless, novel of Windy City life.