Billy Phelan's Greatest Game

The Albany Cycle #2

by William Kennedy

The second novel in William Kennedy’s much-loved Albany cycle depicts Billy Phelan, a slightly tarnished poker player, pool hustler, and small-time bookie.  A resourceful man full of Irish pluck, Billy works the fringes of the Albany sporting life with his own particular style and private code of honor, until he finds himself in the dangerous position of potential go-between in the kidnapping of a political boss’s son.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literature, Novels, Literary Fiction, Classics, 20th Century

282 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1978

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

William Joseph Kennedy is an American writer and journalist born and raised in Albany, New York. Many of his novels feature the interaction of members of the fictional Irish-American Phelan family, and make use of incidents of Albany's history and the supernatural.

Kennedy's works include The Ink Truck (1969), Legs (1975), Billy Phelan's Greatest Game (1978), Ironweed (1983, winner of 1984 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction; film, 1987), and Roscoe (2002).


See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_...

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gamblers and gamesters of all sorts… The world of chance…
Actually Billy Phelan’s Greatest Game is a crime story…

Billy learned everything by himself, everything worth learning. He’d been swimming all that summer when his mother told him to stay away from the river. That August he climbed the Livingston Avenue railroad bridge and dove in – forty feet high, was it? – wearing a straw hat to protect his head.

Card sharps, crapshooters, pimps, hookers, politicians, dealers, lawyers, journalists, restaurateurs, bartenders, bums – everyone seems to live on the shady side of existence… And Billy Phelan, whose life seems to be a pure game of chance, turns out to be the most principled person in the whole kit and caboodle…

She’d call Billy and he’d see her and once in a while she’d give him money, which made him feel like a gigolo, but of course that wasn’t what Billy was. He only took it when he needed it. Angie called Billy her little wheel of excitement.

There are those who play big and there are those who are just chips in the game.

[Michael Finocchiaro · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed Billy Phelan's Greatest Game as my favorite of the first three Albany books from William Kennedy. We follow ne'er-do-well Billy Phelan, broke gambler, roller of 299 in bowling (pesky 4-pin), and erstwhile malgré lui helper of the cops in a kidnapping case. The story is fast-moving with lively characters and a pleasure to read.

This book moves at a slightly faster pace, in albeit a shorter timespace, than Legs or Ironweed. Billy is a fun character, you want him to win, despite all his many faults. You see him struggle with his father (who appears here and we get the story of his appearance in Ironweed) and we see that there is something in Billy that someone like Jack never truly had in his humanity.

Unlike Legs, we change perspectives where we were primarily seeing the action from the perspective of Leg's lawyer Marcus, many times over the length of the book the narration changes between that of Martin and that of Billy which makes for entertaining reading. The greater motif here is the corruption of the Irish leaders of Albany (and by extension since it is a capital city, the state of New York) and the chaos surrounding the kidnapping of Charlie, the son of the robber barons. There are mentions of Legs from the previous novel and also of Hearst as Martin's paper is in that particular lugubrious empire (not unlike TV stations in the Murdoch orbit today), Martin being a journalist who is investigating the kidnapping for the local paper.

There is a fascinating parallel between Martin, the journalist who sleeps with his father's lover, and Billy, the gambler who has no father, that also drives the plot in a highly original manner.
Billy made no response. Martin looked at him in puzzlement. Martin shaped the picture of Charlie Boy again in his mind but saw not Charlie but Edward Dougherty, tied to a bed by four towels, spread-eagled, his genitals uncovered. Why such a vision now? Martin had never seen his father in such a condition, nor was he in such a state even now at the nursing home. The old man was healthy, docile, no need to tie him to the bed. Naked prisoner. Naked father. It was Ham who saw Noah, his father, naked and drunk on wine, and Noah cursed Ham, while Shem and Japeth covered their father's nakedness and were blessed for it. Cursed for peering into the father's soul through the pores. Blessed for covering the secrets of the father's body with a blanket. Damn all who find me in my naked time. (p. 105)

Billy's game, referred to in the title, is the bowling session at the beginning of the novel where he rolls a 299 and where Charlie Boy is present before disappearing - but in fact, he gambles throughout the book trying to pay a debt to Martin who won on Billy's book at an impossible combo of three horses. The race to pay off this debt is mixed in with the hysteria around the kidnapping.

Meanwhile, Martin deals with memories of his father: "My response to the ravings of a lunatic like your friend," said Edward Dougherty, "is that whether he knows it or not, his life has meaning that is instructive, if only to illuminate the impenetrability of God's will. Nothing is without purpose in this world."
Martin plucked a crimson leaf from a maple tree and tore it into small pieces.
"That leaf," said the elder writer, "was created to make my point." (p. 235)

Ultimately, the kidnapping is solved with both Martin and Billy playing roles. On his way back in the car, Martin muses: When we free the children we also drown Narcissus in his pool. (p. 270)
and later Martin's view of his meeting with his father was this: that all sons are Isaac, all fathers are Abraham, and that all Isaacs become Abrahams if they work at it long enough.
He decided: We are only as possible as what happened to us yesterday. We all change as we move. (p. 278). Therein lies, for me, the real interest in Kennedy's prose - on the surface a gangland/city corruption story, but underneath, many interesting themes of growth, learning and transformation.

Perhaps you'll also enjoy this book which was definitely my favorite of the first three of the Albany trilogy.

[Ned · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read sometimes to understand a place, and the people that make that place, in its time. I've never been to Albany, but this story reeks with the politics, cathollicism, drinking, gambling and all the attendant vices in late 30's urban America. Billy is the son of an absentee father who left home in shame (the main character in the final book in this Albany trilogy, Ironweed) and has bit parts as a bum. The dealings of seedy city and how the Irish machine operates is laid bare, told neatly by the newman (Martin Daugherty), another local irishman with father issues of his own, and of course Billy, the hustler with his own rigid code of honor. Kennedy's writing is superb, and character development is his forte (there are dozens, each more interesting and tawdry than the last). The conflict in Martin's head with his own fatherhood and his son's priestly interest is juxtaposed nicely against the wanton yet mystical intelligence of Billy, the street hustler. Most of these characters are first rate sinners, but their knowledge of it and the unseen forces which shape their destiny engages the intellect. But there is no shortage of raw, stinking humanity to balance the highminded, religious, mythic imagery,and a page turning plot to bring together this fine novel.

And it is about fatherhood, redemption, and how fate hangs in seconds of random events.

[Allan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked up this novel as part of William Kennedy's 'Albany Cycle', after Willy Vlautin stated that the second in the series, 'Ironweed' is his favourite ever book-high praise indeed, so, having bought the first volume of the cycle, I was very much looking forward to seeing what I made of this first instalment.

Set in 1930s Albany, the narrative follows two main characters-Billy Phelan, small time bookie, pool hustler, card player and bowler, and journalist Martin Daugherty, son to a previously famous and now ageing writer, and someone who still lives in the Irish American community from which he came. Both men get caught up in the fallout from the kidnap of the son of a local corrupt politician by persons unknown.

This all sounds action packed, but the novel isn't a thriller by any means. The kidnap is always in the background, but Kennedy spends the majority of the 250 pages of the book charting the everyday life of the characters inhabiting the underbelly of Albany of the time. Occasionally I found the narrative to be a bit of a drag, and to be honest was a little disappointed with the whole book in general terms. However, the best thing about the narrative for me was when Billy Phelan's estranged father, Francis, was featured-the fact that the Pulitzer Prize winning 'Ironweed' is about him, and that all the books standalone despite being linked by setting and featuring some of the same characters, gives me hope that Vlautin's recommendation won't be too far off the mark.

As for this book, if you get it as part of the first volume of The Albany Cycle like I did, you'll probably want to get your money's worth and read it, but if I was to go back a few days, I'd probably just start in with Ironweed and give this one a miss!

[Chris Gager · Rating 4 out of 5]

Starting tonight. I assume Billy is Francis' son???

And he is indeed Francis' son and this book is happening at the same time as Ironweed - I think. Looks like I'm reading the Albany triology in reverse order. Not intentional... This book continues the sort of spirit-thing present in Ironweed. Kind of interesting. The lingo is a bit more peppy due to the social milieu being different from Ironweed. These folks may drink plenty but they're a functional bunch of wise guys, politicians, gamblers etc. .. . the Irish mafia of depression-era Albany. The device of writing two books with interconnecting characters and timelines was also used by Marilynne Robinson for Home and Gilead.

- So far neither Martin nor Billy are as compelling and forceful characters as Francis. Still, this book is a very good reading experience.

- The cover of my book is different from any shown by G'reads. It shows a guy playing pool but it's a different picture!

Read more last night. Martin has fallen into the background for now as all the attention's on Billy. An interesting character but also very much limited by his psychic self-protection. We can admire some things about a capable survivor but find him kind of dull as a human being.

I was ready to downgrade the rating to 3* after a long stretch featuring Martin and his unfathomable Catholic grief/guilt/sex stuff, but it finished strong with a return of Francis and Billy's banishment and resurrection courtesy of a heroic act by Martin. Generally speaking the book's strongest in its illumination of Albany's dark night life. But... that's of limited appeal. The writing is excellent of course. The whole Martin/Catholic thing is a bore to me. The asides about Albany's history were well integrated and interesting and Billy's tale is enriched by the occasional presence of Francis. His story is at the center of the Ironweed, the third(and best) installment of the trilogy. It begins around the ending of this story. 3.75* rounds up to 4*. Notes...

- The father stuff reminds me of Straight Man

- There's a great paragraph near the end about The Open Boat... the greatest short story EVER!

- Kennedy's prose is reminiscent of so many modern American(and English I suppose) writers: DeLillo, Pynchon, Wallace, Denis Johnson, Chabon etc. The poetic/dreamy-streamy stuff is borderline for me.

- About Francis: "But Billy's mother said it was a weak thing to leave us and drink so much. A man shouldn't be weak like that, she said." - Wow! I can identify with that. My father abandoned two families by losing himself into the bottle. Awful...

[Noel Ward · Rating 4 out of 5]

More mystical and seedier than the first book in the series but much less violent. It had some great moments but overall was not as engaging as Legs was. The best part of this one is the names! There are a zillion characters in here and William Kennedy came up with great names for them all that capture the seamy underworld he was trying to create better than any scenic description could.

[Ben · Rating 5 out of 5]

As the pages went by I kept thinking this is a book that Scott Fitzgerald might have written if he'd grown up on the dole in upstate New York instead of traipsing around Princeton in his matched sweaters and scarves (just having a little fun, Francis). Anyway, great book. Highbrow, lowbrow, middle-brow. Example: "Screwing your wife is like striking out the pitcher." It's not funny ha-ha, but the more you think about it the better it is.

Also notable for containing the phrase "no country for old men." I guess McCarthy is a fan.

[George · Rating 4 out of 5]

An engaging, historical fiction novel set in Albany, New York, USA 1938. The story follows a couple of months in the life of Billy Phelan, a single man who is a small time hustler and bookie. Billy has a code of honour that he tries to adhere to. Billy hangs around bars, mixing with bootleggers, pimps, bartenders and prostitutes.

A rich family’s son, Charlie McCall is kidnapped. Billy finds himself required to inform on his pals or else he is cut out of the pub circuit forever.

A concisely, well written character based novel. Here is part of a paragraph I particularly liked:

“Marlene Whiteson, a reporter whose stories were so sugary that you risked diabetic coma if you read them regularly, stood in front of Martin’s desk, inside her unnecessary girdle, oozing even at this hour the desire but not quite the will, never quite the will, to shed those restrictive stays, leap onto the desk, and do a goat dance with him, or with anyone. But Marlene was an illusionist, her sexuality the disappearing rabbit: Now you see it, now you don’t. Reach out to touch and find it gone back inside her hat….” (page 47).

I am looking forward to reading the other novels in the ‘Albany’ series. This book is the second book in the series. The first book in the series is ‘Legs’, a very good read about legendary gangster Jack ‘Legs’ Diamond, born 1897, died 1931. The novel is set in the late 1920s and early 1930s. ‘Legs’ was first published in 1975.

This book was first published in 1978.

[Kelly_Hunsaker_reads ... · Rating 4 out of 5]

The second in Kennedy's Albany Cycle, Billy Phelan's Greatest Game is set in 1930s Albany, and follows two main characters: a small-time bookie and hustler named Billy Phelan, and a journalist named Martin Daugherty. I liked this book slightly more than its predecssor, Legs, as it was slightly faster-paced, and the opening chapter was fantastic.

Wen the son of a corrupt politician is kidnapped our two characters are quickly caught-up in the mystery and danger. Intriguingly, the kidnapping is always in the background and not really part of the action. This is a book about the mundane. It covers the everyday lives of the characters, and once again the both the time and place come to life and transport the reader into the criminal underworld. Once again the use of colloquialism adds texture and believability to the story, and the slow, quiet pace, makes the book a powerful character portrait.

My favorite character is actually Billy's father Francis -- which is a good sign for the next book as he is the main character of that book.

[Bro_Pair أعرف · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not anywhere near as good as Ironweed, but a very good book. The dual narrative is kind of clunky, mainly because of how much more interesting the Billy Phelan story is than the somewhat muddled father-son issues of Martin Daugherty. But still, this is William Kennedy we're talking about here, and the book contains some absolutely beautiful sequences about bowling, poker, pool, the Albany nightlife, and the past.

[J.M. Hushour · Rating 4 out of 5]

The weakest of the "Albany" trilogy, but still a damn fine read. This middle volume focuses on Billy Phelan, son of Francis, the anti-hero of "Ironweed", and his meanderings through Depression-era Albany and his dealings with the local political bosses. Weirdly philosophical and other-worldly at times. It's sad that Kennedy seems to have fallen to the wayside.

[Sue K H · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 RTC

[Sergio Acera · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 y media.

[Rosemary · Rating 4 out of 5]

A solid 4.5 stars. This book came to me as a recommendation from my dad, via Stanford’s Another Look Book Club. Published in 1983, but worthy of the “second look” from the book club, this is the second in a trio of books by William Kennedy about Albany in the time period just before World War II. The three books are not necessarily a trilogy, as each stands alone, but as I now read the synopses of the other two books, recognize that there are overlapping characters (seemingly similar to Cormac McCarthy’s border trilogy). This story is as much about Martin Daugherty as it is the titular Billy Phelan. The similarities and differences between these two characters and their experiences with their fathers - one a once famous writer losing his mind to senility and the other a once famous baseball player who returns after a 20 year absence now “a bum” - is the most engaging aspect of the book. The novel literally asks if it is, “possible to escape the stereotypes and be proud of being an Albany Irishman?” but goes beyond that now tired category of novels and concludes that, “We are only as possible as what happened to us yesterday. We all change as we move.”

[Joe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ostensibly this is a book about hustlers, grifters, writers, and political bosses. And this book has all of that, taking place in 1930's Albany. But in reality this is a book about fathers and sons.

The plot is driven by the kidnapping of Charlie Boy McCall, son of Bindy. Bindy and his brother Patsy run Albany through intimidation, mob-like tactics, and influencing elections.

The McCalls enlist Billy Phelan to help unearth Morrie Berman's role in the plot. Billy's father left when he was nine years old, and returns to town now after living a hobo's life. Billy's a hustler, and the town of Albany has been his surrogate father since his dad left.

Morrie, meanwhile, is estranged from his father, Jake. But although they don't have a relationship, they have similar agendas - revenge on the McCall's.

Finally, there is Martin Daugherty. Martin's father was a writer of some renown, a publisher of plays. Martin is perhaps not that talented, and writes for the local newspaper. Perhaps to make up for his falling short to his father in talent, he instead beds his father's former mistress (and muse). Martin's own son, Peter, has joined the seminary, rejecting Martin's life among the seedier elements in Albany for a life "in the world but not part of it." While much of Martin's existence is being in the middle of all the goings-on in Albany.

As for the writing, there is real poetry here, as when Kennedy describes a bowling alley and its denizens: "He looked the crowd over: men sitting among unswept papers, dust, and cigar butts, bathing in the raw incandescence of naked bulbs, surrounded by spittoons; a nocturnal bunch in shirtsleeves and baggy clothes, their hands full of meaningful drink, fixated on an ancient game with origins in Christian ritual, a game brought to this city centuries ago by nameless old Dutchmen and now a captive of the indoor sports of the city. the game abided in such windowless, smoky lofts as this one, which smelled of beer, cigar smoke and alley wax, an unhealthy ambiance which nevertheless nourished exquisite nighttime skills."

If I found out that Richard Russo counted Kennedy as an influence, it would not surprise me one bit. This is good stuff, going much deeper than the surface story.

[K · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a tough call. The more I read, the less I liked this book -- a phenomenon that rarely happens. Because it is a short book and has a dynamic plot, I was happy to read to its conclusion, but I found myself liking the characters and the book less and less as I turned the page.

Also, I found it to be less and less believable as I moved more deeply into it. Again, this is not what I expected, given that it's a gritty, true-to-life type of book that, theoretically, would draw you into its town, its time and its characters.

The book follows the intersecting lives of a bunch of low-level hoodlums, losers and political fixers in Albany, NY, after World War II. Apparently, Albany had a string of crappy bars and houses of prostitution that were flourishing in those years, surely building off servicing the politicians and the business leaders who flocked to the capital to "buy" politicians. One of the remarkable things to me was that there could be literally four or five neighborhoods each with a half-dozen or more closely located bars that were serving the same clientele: men who spent their time on horses, the numbers, pool, drinking and trying to find a woman for an hour's pleasure. I guess it's possible that all of these areas existed at the time, but it's surprising to me that so much vice could exist so openly in a relatively small town. And how did the guys have the money, since they were really picking up $10 here or there to get through the day?

So it's a seamy and depressing life. It has its charm in a sense, as in you're not on the clock of an office or factory, and you can test your manhood in bar fights and other types of one-up-manship on a regular basis. That's what Billy Phelan, the person followed most closely in the book, does. He's a natural at everything, but one of those guys who just doesn't seem to care about anything. The book opens with him bowling a 299, that is, 11 strikes in a row and then a 9 on his last ball. In doing so, he wins a bet against an obnoxious other bowler, and Billy gets off a memorable line that I won't quote here so as not to ruin the surprise. Incidentally, this game takes place at like 2 am in a smoke-filled alley with everyone drinking and betting on the outcome. That's the atmosphere for the entire book.

It turns out that Billy is a great pool hustler, and the book describes him either beating some people outright or hustling them with a fake loss so that he can reel them in at a later date. Often, he's backed in betting by Morris, who seems to have Jewish mob connections.

Oh, and Billy was a great baseball player as a kid, just like his dad, who was professional caliber but who left town when he killed a man, which ruined his chance at a baseball career. The dad came back to town, had a family, and then left them due to a tragedy that is told midway through the book (and later) when his broken dad, a drunk bum, stumbles back into Billy's life for the first time in more than 20 years. That reunion goes about as well as can be expected.

Anyway, the plot is moved ahead because one of the guys at that 299-bowling game is the adult son of the local political boss. He's actually on the losing side of the bet. Returning home after the game, he's kidnapped at 4 am. The plot from then forward is how his father and his father's associates negotiate to get him back and enlist all of the low-lifes like Billy, Morris, and others to be go-betweens with the kidnappers and also to figure out if maybe they were in on the crime. This leads Billy to have a direct meeting with the boss, Patsy McCall, which he's wisely avoided because it's never good to have to meet with Patsy. And of course Billy insults Patsy and gets the worst penalty that a grifter can get: refused access to all the dive bars in Albany, which Patsy controls.

I should mention that in the few days from the bowling to the resolution of the kidnapping, Billy hustles pool, exposes a cheat at poker and nearly gets shot, gets beat up and does some beating, sleeps with a couple of women and bums several hundred dollars off people to repay a big horse race parlay bet that the town's leading newspaper columnist and reporter placed with him on a hunch. That columnist-reporter is sort of the omniscience voice in the book, and actually, the reporter is the person who becomes the ultimate contact with the kidnappers, after Billy refuses to help (on the grounds that he's not a snitch).

As these events unfold, I found it hard to believe that they could happen to a single person in the course of a week, and that the person could remain standing, nor that the person hadn't been killed in similar circumstances if that's what a typical week was like for him. Also, I found a few of the details getting more and more preposterous as the book unfolded. The most egregious was the timely return for a one-week theatrical engagement of the ex-girlfriend of the columnist-reporter's father. The reporter's dad was a successful playwright and novelist whose star faded until there was a revival of a play he wrote about his affair with a beautiful young girl. That girl played herself in a silent movie version of the play that made the novelist famous for life, though he basically abandoned his family when he got a modicum of fame and fortune. In the revival on-stage, the woman, now 49, plays the wife who was cheated on (that is, the reporter's mother), and to rave reviews on Broadway.

But here's the twist. A few years earlier, the reporter had a 3-day fling with that woman -- remember, it's his father's lover -- and it's an unrequited lust on both sides. It was on the weekend of his 40th birthday, which he spent with the actress rather than his wife and young son. So, inevitably, he meets up with her and they have crazy sex multiple times, though the guy is married. And that whole scenario is ridiculous. Why this movie star wants the son of her lover is beyond me. The idea that they had sex for 3 days straight, except for a couple of meals, is preposterous. The idea that she would come back to town and literally open her gown to him in about 30 seconds and with, uh, special shaving, is ridiculous, too. So that's when the book moves to farce, I guess, even though it's not a farce, and not really even a black comedy. These scenes aren't looking good in the "#MeToo" era.

Overall, the book does a great job of setting an atmosphere and revealing a way of life. It's not a life I want to lead -- I'd be bored out of my mind in bars night after night, and I'd be physically sick from the drinking and crappy food. But it's a life that has its rouge-ish charm. And I think it is true to what Albany was like in its post-WWII heyday, even if the actions are compressed into a hard-to-believe short time line in order to make it a short novel.

[Nick]

I was not impressed with the last William Kennedy book I read, but I was not prepared for how truly terrible this one is. In fact I think this may be one of the worst-written books I have ever read. I hardly even know where to start with this; within the first five pages, we are told that someone "lived with his bowling ball as if it were a third testicle". Guys, if you keep your bowling ball down your pants, you are both very strong, and probably should see a mental health worker; also, if your testicles are so big that a bowling ball would plausibly be a third one, please consult a medical professional.

Amazingly, it gets worse from here. I'll just pick out one of the passages that had me scratching my head, rolling my eyes, and sighing in annoyance:

M"en like Billy Phelan, forged in the brass of Broadway, send, in the time of their splendor, telegraphic statements of mission: I, you bums, am a winner. And that message, however devoid of Christ-like other-cheekery, dooms the faint-hearted Scottys of the night, who must sludge along, never knowing how it feels to spill over with the small change of sassiness, how it feels to leave the spillover there on the floor, more where that came from, pal. Leave it for the sweeper."

What the snot is happening in this paragraph? What is Billy leaving on the floor for the sweeper? Is he so overjoyed at being "devoid of Christ-like other-cheekery" that he's pooping his pants? Is he throwing up, like I wanted to reading this book? Was someone really paid to write "the small change of sassiness"? How did this happen? Why was this allowed to happen??

F-

[David Guy · Rating 5 out of 5]

To get the suspense over with immediately, since it’s the first incident in the novel: Billy’s greatest game was when he bowled 299 in a match against a man named Scotty Streck. They were competing for the best three game total, and Scotty, the better bowler, had given Billy a 55-pin handicap (short of the 20 per game Billy wanted). Billy had been losing badly until the third game, when he suddenly got in a groove. He left one pin standing with his final ball. Other than that he was perfect. He actually beat Streck by one pin for the three games. Didn’t need the spot.

Billy is a 31-year-old man who lives (unbelievably, for me, a person who virtually never won a bet[1]) by gambling. He’s good at all the games, bowling, billiards, darts, but also knows how to bet on other things, including card games and the horses (all this seems to go on freely in Albany, as if it were Las Vegas); he also works at least part-time as a bookie, taking bets from others. His father left the family when he was nine, and he had to figure out how to make his way; this is how he’s done it. He wakes up every morning (usually quite late, because he’s been up half the night), dresses fit to kill, in a suit and tie, nice shoes and a hat, and goes out looking for people to hustle. He doesn’t seem to have much trouble. They’re all over the place.

I think it is with this second novel that William Kennedy settles into his Albany series. In the first, Legs Diamond was so outsized a character that you hardly noticed anyone else. In Billy Phelan’s Greatest Game, we’re firmly ensconced in the Phelan family, and the Quinns are around. The father who left Billy is Francis Phelan, who will return in the third novel (and the big prizewinner), Ironweed. Martin Daugherty, the journalist and son of the playwright Edward Daugherty, doesn’t narrate the book, but he is a constant presence, and central to the plot. With Legs Diamond gone, various important characters in the cycle take center stage.

Two guys have taken bets in Billy’s match, Morrie Berman, a Jewish man who has left his devout father behind and dislikes the powers that be, and Charlie Boy McCall, son of the local political boss and a well-connected man in Albany. The narrator mentions those things early on, and we almost don’t notice. They become important as the story continues.

The plot immediately thickens when, that very night, Charlie Boy is “grabbed” by some kidnappers as he returns home and taken God knows where, a daring move against the most powerful family in Albany. For journalist Martin Daugherty, this is the biggest story in years, but when he tries to get details the head of the ruling family, Patsy McCall, tells him not to print a word; the kidnappers have said they’ll kill Charlie Boy if there’s any publicity. We soon realize that, whatever the political structure of Albany, the McCalls control the city. Nobody does a thing without their permission.

They immediately suspect that Morrie Berman is somehow involved. Billy, in the meantime, knows almost nothing about the power structure that surrounds him; he’s Irish like the McCalls, but is as likely to hang around with Berman, who occupies the same world he does. It takes Martin Daugherty to let us know what’s going on behind the scenes. The McCalls call on Billy to spy on Berman, not to pump him for information, just report what he says. That goes against the grain for Billy, for whom friendship, and not ratting on a friend, are the most important things in life. He says he’ll cooperate, but doesn’t entirely do so. When the McCalls realize he’s not coming through with all he knows, they shut him out from everything in Albany. He can’t get a drink, can’t get a game, he can hardly even eat a meal. He’s been robbed of his livelihood, all because he stood up for what he thought was right.

What Kennedy describes here is a foreign world to me, people living by their wits, often hand to mouth, suffering terrible tragedies and somehow going on, leading ordinary lives that are nevertheless full of drama. The drinking that goes on, even for a guy like Billy who has to have his wits about him, is almost beyond belief. For consumption of alcohol, this book is right up there with Faulkner. At one point someone describes Albany as “the asshole of the Northeast.” To these folks it’s the whole world. Take that away from Billy and he might as well die. It doesn’t occur to him that he could drift to another city and maybe, in time, do just as well.

The mind that unites the story, even though he doesn’t narrate it, is that of Martin Daugherty, for me the book’s most interesting character (though I have strong affection for Billy). He’s a first-rate journalist, has published a book of stories and written 1200 pages of a novel about his father, who is demented in a nearby nursing home. Edward Daugherty was a famous playwright in his day, and wrote a play about the two women in his life, Martin’s mother and a younger, captivatingly beautiful woman with whom he had an affair. Martin himself has had a dalliance with the same woman—she’s spanned the generations—and she shows up in Albany acting in that same play, but as the wife, not the young lover. There’s enough sub-plot in this novel to fill any number of other books. In the years to come, Kennedy would sit down and write them.

[1] I gave up gambling in 1964, when I lost a substantial sum on the Clay-Liston fight and realized I wasn’t good at this. I know that sounds like a stupid bet today, but at the time almost everyone agreed with me, including Joe Louis, who bet on Liston also in the second fight (so there!). By substantial sum, I mean something like ten bucks, but that was a lot to me. I could have bought three record albums with that money.

I did later get back at the guy with one more wager, though I don’t consider it to have been a bet, it was such a sure thing. We all used to watch professional wrestling in those days, and the guy who had taken my money in the Clay Liston fight somehow didn’t understand it was fixed. Gorilla Monsoon was wrestling Bruno Sammartino, who was the heavyweight champ, and my friend couldn’t believe that the much bigger man wouldn’t win. But I knew Bruno would never lose his title in Pittsburgh, his hometown, so the bet I made was that he would not lose the title. Monsoon might win the match on a technicality, but I knew he wouldn’t take the title. I even explained my reasoning to my friend, but he still wanted to bet. So I went ahead and took his money. At that point I saw how stupid gambling was, and never placed a bet again.

www.davidguy.org

[Mike]

This style of writing annoys me no end. I don't really want to get into it right now (ask me sometime, maybe over a few beers). I once read Ironweed all the way the through and hated it and wondered why I had persevered all the way through it. I guess because it had won the Pulitzer Prize and because two trustworthy sources personally recommended it. Then I read Legs once and was often slightly annoyed by it throughout, but the story ended up being ok and worth finishing. So I thought I would read this as a sort of a rubber match and then consider maybe re-reading Ironweed. No chance of that now. This is such contrived shallow bs garbage ... aaaa, don't even get me started on this, at least not in this forum.

[Emi Yoshida · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm reading William Kennedy's Albany trilogy on Saul Bellow's recommendation but I'm struggling with it. I liked the first one (Legs Diamond) better than this second one (Billy Phelan), hopefully the third will be best (Ironweed).

I wanted more of the characters from the first book to continue in the second, but only a couple of them were mentioned (Legs and Marcus) and only fleetingly. I guess their relationship is echoed by Billy Felon (Phelan)'s and the newspaper guy Martin Daugherty. Now I'll go see if there's another criminal-upright professional pairing in Ironweed.

[Gab · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si sente l'odore di sale da biliardo fumose, vicoli stretti e spacconi di mezza tacca.
Le atmosfere di questo libro sono queste, città americana degli anni '30 piena di truffatori, malavitosi ma anche di gente per bene che cerca di sbarcare il lunario.
Dal rapimento di una persona si aprono una serie di eventi che incrociano i destini di diversi altri personaggi, importanti e meno, anche se i due pilastri a mio parere sono sempre due.
Una lettura scorrevole e piacevole per tornare a quasi cent'anni fa, un'epoca e uno stile ormai dimenticati.

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was even better than the first. I quoted it several times on Facebook.

[Nikhil · Rating 2 out of 5]

Maybe 2.5/5.

This book is about two men: Billy and Martin, who serve as foils for each other. Martin is a middle-class journalist, views the word around him as profaned by the transactional nature modernity (everyone is a simoniac), blames his father for stymying his life in some unknown way, and in turn transfers his issues with his father onto his son. Billy never really knew his father, and has no son. Unencumbered by the unresolved baggage of fathers and their attempts to turn sons into their mirror image, and unencumbered by the responsibility of performing masculinity for a son (I cannot in full honestly describe what any of these men do as raising a child), Billy lives as a small time hustler in the Albany underworld. Martin views Billy as a free, noble savage, transcending modernity and its false idols of money, etc. Billy has no idea where Martin comes up with this; Martin obviously never knows Billy and just transfers his own psychoses on yet someone else.

The kidnapping of a young man who is the scion of Albany’s corrupt political dynasty brings the two together, and reveals themselves to each other. Martin realizes he is becoming his father (to the extent that he even fucks his fathers mistress). Billy realizes he is not independent at all — one word from a single man in Albany shuts him out of the underworld life, and leaves him (literally) out in the cold. Billy realizes that his life is more fragile than he thought, and what he viewed as the encumbrances of family may in fact provide stability. Martin realizes he should let his son join the priesthood and not turn into his father.

All of the above themes are better explored in other books. In fact, there is a pretty famous one titled Fathers and Sons that covers all this ground in a much better way. At some point, the bizarre decisions of both characters and the neurotic approach Martin has towards sex is just unpalatable. Maybe the value of this text is recovering a particular vision of Albany at a particular time? Let’s see if Ironweed is any better.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

If this novel can be said to be about anything, the larger theme would be fathers and sons: Billy Phelan, eponymous hero of the 299-score bowling event, and his absentee father Francis who returns coincident with Billy's time of trial; Charlie Boy McCall, "a soft, likeable kid gone to early bloat", son of the man who controlled all the gambling in Albany circa 1938; and Martin Daugherty, whose father, successful author and playwright Edward pronounced him a failure for settling for journalism.

The story is nominally about the rise and fall and rise of young Billy Phelan's star as influenced by his standing with the powerful McCall family around the incident of a kidnapping.

But the joy for me was the evocation of this time and place in this specific human circle with language that sings. The grime, the lighting, the smell, the violence, the protocols, are all summoned as a medium summons a protoplasmic guest. There are examples on every page, and here is only one: "Daddy Big had run Louie's since the week he came out of Comstock after doing two for a post-office holdup flubbed by Georgie Fox, a sad syphilitic freak with mange on his soul."

William Kennedy is a discovery for me, and I look forward to reading more about Albany and its denizens through his conjuring prose.

[Mark Greenbaum · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a lovely little novel of Depression-era Irish Albany. Accidentally, I read it after Ironwood, the final volume in Kennedy's trilogy; the second about the son, the third about the father. Ironwood is more centered and visual and so the better, albeit by a small amount. The color here is rich, the characters deep, the dialogue sharp, if but collectively sometimes cliched. But the only negative issue here is the fractured storyline, divided evenly between the principled hustler Billy Phelan and the hard-boiled newsman Martin Daughtery, which is confusing, especially when focusing on the latter man. It's hard to care much about Martin (the side stories about his father, his son, his mistress have little magnetism), and his immersion in the underlying kidnapping plot while Billy fades from it doesn't make much narrative sense. Billy is the character we're here for and the one we care about. I feel like Kennedy really wanted his Leo Bloom to Stephen Dedalus and had to have them both.

[Marti · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not sure, but I think I liked this better than Ironweed. I had forgotten many of the details of that novel although they came back to me as I was reaading this. I am not sure if it would have helped to have read this series in the right order, but they can be read separately.

To answer one question, no it is not like The Hustler even though there is pool involved. It's really more about the sporting crowd in general and the seedy underbelly of Albany which was run by an Irish Catholic machine not unlike Tammany. I also liked how certain real life figures like Damon Runyon, William Randolph Hearst, and Thomas Dewey are integrated into the story briefly, although their actions are not strictly factual.

Think It's a Wonderful Life if the story took place entirely in Pottersville.

[Patrick Barry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Billy Phelan’s Greatest Game is the second of the author's Albany books. This book is based on an event from the city’s history, a kidnapping of a young man in a prominent political family. Phelan, the protagonist, is a barroom athlete : a pool hustler, bowling ace, poker player, and bookie, en joying his life in the twilight of his youth. He is torn between helping the kidnappers and the politicians. Can he do both and profit? Phelan’s story is told by Martin Daugherty, a reporter for the local paper. He is sympathetic to Phelan and sees little to choose between the kidnappers and the politicians. An interesting story, fast paced evocative of the time and place, Really good writing.

[Anne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fathers and sons. Political and societal corruption. Wanderers and drifters trying to keep a roof over their heads. Billy Phelan is one of the latter, a younger man who tried to work within the imperfect system constructed around him. This book is all about conversation--in bars and restaurants and illegal gambling joints that ply their trade 24 hours a day. Albany is home to Kennedy. The knows the town well and brings it to life in minute detail. The Irish run the place. There is a lot not to like, both in the people and the place, but Kennedy instills in the reader the want to know more. The atmosphere resembles that in a Raymond Chandler novel--dark, foggy, people hustling, bad things happening. I'm looking forward to reading more of the Albany Cycle.

[Al · Rating 2 out of 5]

The middle book in Kennedy's Albany trilogy. In this book Billy Phelan, a young adult, is shown skating easily through the demimonde of late 30s' Albany, excelling at city sports and bookmaking, until things go wrong. Billy is the son of Francis Phelan, the protagonist of Ironweed (book 3 in the trilogy). Billy has a friend, Martin Daugherty, also a main character in the book. Billy is a fairly straightforward character, Martin not so much because his character outline is complicated by an unnecessarily murky relationship with a woman who was also his father's mistress. This makes for some psychodrama which I found distracting and, apologies to Mr. Kennedy, not interesting.

[Amelia Peniche · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 🌟
William Kennedy nos presenta en mundo de Albany en los años 30, el autor tiene la capacidad de pintarnos un cuadro bastante realista de la época en el submundo de mafiosos locales, los juegos de azar , las apuestas y la prostitución.
Reconozco que al principio me costó entender el mundo planteado entre tanto personaje secundario, pero una vez que uno se ubica la novela se escurre sin darse uno cuenta.
La historia nos toma como personaje principal a Billy Phelan, jugador y apostador con una personalidad bastante ligera al que, aparentemente, todo el mundo le tienen aprecio. Pero todo cambia para Billy cuando Charlie McCall es secuestrado.