It is an interesting thing going back on old books (that is, books you read when you were young) with an older eye. It was a bit of a disappointment to go back and realise this novel, which I recall as being in some ways formative, was not as well constructed or as amazing as I thought. The early section with Tom's parents remains largely dull despite the exciting events; the ways in which research was placed into the story leaned more towards infodumps than being embedded naturally in the narrative. Especially as time sped up and years went by between chapters, the story seemed to stop feeling quite so natural and began feeling more like plot points, especially as characters began to be shaded in only the broadest of outlines. Also, speaking as a subeditor, a lot of sentences
And yet... once Tom lands in New York, the overall narrative, the labourer-to-magnate pipeline that frames the rest of the novel (alongside the romance and suchlike) is irresistibly compelling, the odd mix of labor politics, mafioso, and tough-business intergenerational tale bluster an eminently readable tale that carries you along with it. I can't hold it in quite as high regard as I did entirely in my memories, but I still really enjoyed visiting it again, but from a slightly different light. It's not as strong as my other childhood love - Colleen McCullough's historical fiction - but it's its own thing, and that's all right.