LITTLE CHICAGO & THE BANALITY OF EVIL
This book is haunting, beautifully written, disturbing, often poetic, and quietly deliberate. Blacky (real name Gerald) Brown's world is one of severe abuse and neglect. Even after discovering the horrors her 11-year-old son endured at the hands of her boyfriend, Blacky's mother is completely useless, and spends her days drinking, taking pills, and hiding from her children when she's not visiting the abuser boyfriend in jail. In many ways, she is a child herself. Her three kids live in abject poverty and are often without food and clean clothes. Yet they go on as if things are normal. Their lack of reaction to their circumstances showcases just how bad their lives are.
All of the adults in the book are useless or awful, and we feel as trapped and frustrated as Blacky. Adam Rapp heightens the tension at key moments, creates believable relationships between siblings and friends, and showcases the banality of evil in a small, sleepy town.
Blacky sees the world in a highly visceral way. There is something deeply disturbed about him, and even though well-intentioned teachers and social workers probe him gently for answers, no one takes the time to do too much digging into his head. A guidance counselor even tells him to "rise above" the horrific bullying he endures that eventually results in tragedy.
Much like Harmony Korine's film "Gummo," "Little Chicago" presents a miserable world rotting from the inside out with just the slightest bit of light at the end of the nightmarish tunnel.