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Five-Finger Discount: A Crooked Family History
Now a PBS documentary, this astonishing memoir of growing up in rough-and-tumble Jersey City “will steal your heart” ( People )
With deadpan humor and obvious affection, Five-Finger Discount recounts the story of an unforgettable New Jersey family of swindlers, bookies, embezzlers, and mobster-wannabes. In the memoir Mary Karr calls “a page-turner,” Helene Stapinski ingeniously weaves the checkered history of her hometown of Jersey City—a place known for its political corruption and industrial blight—with the tales that have swirled around her relatives for decades. Navigating a childhood of toxic waste and tough love, Stapinski tells an extraordinary tale at once heartbreaking and hysterically funny.
Praise for Five-Finger Discount
“By turns hilarious and alarming, [Helene Stapinski’s] book reads on the surface like something by Damon Runyon and Elmore Leonard, with a dark undertow of real-life pain and disillusion.” —Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times
“It’s a brilliant book, a darling book. It is the blessedly modest chronicle of a magical consciousness that seems to have been born pulling diamonds out of the muck, hearing angels’ voices in the fiercest thunder. . . . I adored every word of this wondrous book. Get it. Read it.” —Michael Pakenham, The Baltimore Sun
“In the tradition of . . . Rita Mae Brown and Amy Tan, Ms. Stapinski is an exciting writer, unabashedly candid, and at the same time unashamedly self-contained. Five-Finger Discount is a must-read.” —Victoria Gotti, The New York Observer
“What [Frank] McCourt did for Limerick, Ireland, Helene Stapinski does for Jersey City.” — The Star-Ledger
“Hugely entertaining.” — The Sunday Times (London)
With deadpan humor and obvious affection, Five-Finger Discount recounts the story of an unforgettable New Jersey family of swindlers, bookies, embezzlers, and mobster-wannabes. In the memoir Mary Karr calls “a page-turner,” Helene Stapinski ingeniously weaves the checkered history of her hometown of Jersey City—a place known for its political corruption and industrial blight—with the tales that have swirled around her relatives for decades. Navigating a childhood of toxic waste and tough love, Stapinski tells an extraordinary tale at once heartbreaking and hysterically funny.
Praise for Five-Finger Discount
“By turns hilarious and alarming, [Helene Stapinski’s] book reads on the surface like something by Damon Runyon and Elmore Leonard, with a dark undertow of real-life pain and disillusion.” —Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times
“It’s a brilliant book, a darling book. It is the blessedly modest chronicle of a magical consciousness that seems to have been born pulling diamonds out of the muck, hearing angels’ voices in the fiercest thunder. . . . I adored every word of this wondrous book. Get it. Read it.” —Michael Pakenham, The Baltimore Sun
“In the tradition of . . . Rita Mae Brown and Amy Tan, Ms. Stapinski is an exciting writer, unabashedly candid, and at the same time unashamedly self-contained. Five-Finger Discount is a must-read.” —Victoria Gotti, The New York Observer
“What [Frank] McCourt did for Limerick, Ireland, Helene Stapinski does for Jersey City.” — The Star-Ledger
“Hugely entertaining.” — The Sunday Times (London)
258 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
70 people are currently reading
712 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 130 reviews
January 26, 2022
CRITIQUE:
The Art of the Memoir Mastered
For no particular reason, I hadn't read a lot of memoirs, until I found Mary Karr's series of three starting with "The Liar's Club".
I rated the series a total of fourteen stars between them (two x five stars; one x four stars), and didn't expect to find anything as well-written and enjoyable so soon.
Mary wrote a very laudatory blurb for "Five-Finger Discount", stating that Helene Stapinski is "rich in stories and kinfolk". Besides calling the memoir "a page-turner", Mary's blurb doesn't say much else about the quality of writing. (I'm not sure whether it was an extract from a review or a formal assessment.)
I agree with everything Mary said, but would add that the memoir is masterful in substance, style and tone.
Criminal Genetics
"Five-Finger Discount" (a reference to shop-lifting) concerns Helene's family of mixed Polish and Italian Catholic migrant stock living in Jersey City. She describes them as a crooked family, some of whom have an endearing, but crooked, smile.
Helene worries that they might have some genetic predisposition to crime, most of it of the petty variety. She wonders whether her family and community are more tolerant of criminal activity, because most of the politicians who have represented the city have been actively engaged in graft and corruption (whether Republicans or Democrats).
She speculates that crime might obey a kind of trickle-down effect. Regardless, she concludes that her family's crime was "better than taking kickbacks and stealing taxpayer money earmarked for new schools and nontoxic playgrounds."
I don't think there's any point in trying to assess the merit of her trickle-down hypothesis. From a literary point of view, what matters is that Helene's family had ample experience and multifarious stories of criminal behaviour, without being actively or tangentially involved in the Mafia.
Criminal Stories
Helene more or less defines her role as telling these stories to us readers and her successors in the family (including her own son) in a way that is as entertaining as possible for readers, and as humorous, profound and instructive as possible for her successors.
She thinks it's fruitless to try to distance herself and her son from the family history. Better to tell the truth and live with the consequences.
She views this function as analogous to her work as a journalist on the "Jersey Journal", where she took other people's stories, added her by-line, and made them her own stories.
Her memoir isn't especially sentimental, but its style and tone is word-perfect. It's a beautiful construct and source of wonder, despite the ugliness of its setting in Jersey City. ("God, it’s brutal out here." Apparently, there has been some improvement in recent years. To paraphrase Steely Dan, I've never been to Jersey City, but I plan to find the time.)
Early on, when Helene writes succinctly about non-family members (e.g., the politicians) and the architecture and history of Jersey City (e.g., going to the cinema at the Loew's), she makes it sound intimate, like it's part of her family's story (which, in a sense, it is). Everything that happens in the city around them is incorporated into the quilt that generations of her family will drape over their shoulders in bed. These stories contribute comfort, just as much as guilt, shame and embarrassment.
[Loew's Jersey City Source]
Big Families
If the memoir lacks anything, it's a family tree that allows readers to visualise the relationships between the many family members over the course of a century or so. This is not to say that the individuals aren't vividly portrayed. They certainly are.
My suggestion might just reflect the fact that neither FM Sushi nor I come from a particularly big family, nor have we started one. (She reckons, never let them outnumber you.)
Our two daughters must be almost unique, in that they have absolutely no cousins, not one between them, although they've always had valuable relationships with their aunts and uncles.
Cargo Theft and Swag
Occasionally, the book reminded me of personal experiences of my own. Here are two in particular:
While reading, I encountered a word that I wasn't previously familiar with (in this context), namely "swag", which Helene uses to describe goods stolen by employees from their employers, almost as if it was their entitlement to take something home at the end of the day (besides their pay packet).
If you worked for a shipping business or a trucking company (one of Helene's relatives was a longshoreman), you felt you could take home a percentage of the cargo.
While I didn't know the word, I was aware that this practice occurred. I was first exposed to it on a trip to New York in 1982. I stayed at the Hotel Chelsea, and one afternoon I decided to have a late lunch at the Spanish restaurant under the Hotel (El Quijote). I was the only guest in the restaurant, apart from a lady who was about forty years my senior.
Eventually we started a conversation, and she invited me to come up to her apartment and meet her husband who was a longshoreman.
Although he was very pleasant to me, he was clearly upset by something that had occurred at work that day.
When his wife pried further, he revealed that he had been promoted at work. However, the problem was that, in order to receive his promotion, he had to transfer from the whiskey wharf to the banana wharf. This meant that he would have to take his cut in bunches of bananas rather than bottles of whiskey. Neither of them was excited by the prospect.
Telling the Truth (and Living with the Consequences)
In the context of telling the truth, over dinner, my father once told my girlfriend for a (short) time (she was from a wealthy grazing family), that her family had made its wealth from robbing a local branch of the bank that my father worked for, but the police didn't have enough evidence to charge and convict them, so they got away with it.
I drove my girlfriend home after dinner, and never saw her again. It took me a long time before I invited a girlfriend to dinner with my parents. Though it was also a long time before I found another girlfriend.
SOUNDTRACK:
The Art of the Memoir Mastered
For no particular reason, I hadn't read a lot of memoirs, until I found Mary Karr's series of three starting with "The Liar's Club".
I rated the series a total of fourteen stars between them (two x five stars; one x four stars), and didn't expect to find anything as well-written and enjoyable so soon.
Mary wrote a very laudatory blurb for "Five-Finger Discount", stating that Helene Stapinski is "rich in stories and kinfolk". Besides calling the memoir "a page-turner", Mary's blurb doesn't say much else about the quality of writing. (I'm not sure whether it was an extract from a review or a formal assessment.)
I agree with everything Mary said, but would add that the memoir is masterful in substance, style and tone.
Criminal Genetics
"Five-Finger Discount" (a reference to shop-lifting) concerns Helene's family of mixed Polish and Italian Catholic migrant stock living in Jersey City. She describes them as a crooked family, some of whom have an endearing, but crooked, smile.
Helene worries that they might have some genetic predisposition to crime, most of it of the petty variety. She wonders whether her family and community are more tolerant of criminal activity, because most of the politicians who have represented the city have been actively engaged in graft and corruption (whether Republicans or Democrats).
She speculates that crime might obey a kind of trickle-down effect. Regardless, she concludes that her family's crime was "better than taking kickbacks and stealing taxpayer money earmarked for new schools and nontoxic playgrounds."
I don't think there's any point in trying to assess the merit of her trickle-down hypothesis. From a literary point of view, what matters is that Helene's family had ample experience and multifarious stories of criminal behaviour, without being actively or tangentially involved in the Mafia.
Criminal Stories
Helene more or less defines her role as telling these stories to us readers and her successors in the family (including her own son) in a way that is as entertaining as possible for readers, and as humorous, profound and instructive as possible for her successors.
She thinks it's fruitless to try to distance herself and her son from the family history. Better to tell the truth and live with the consequences.
She views this function as analogous to her work as a journalist on the "Jersey Journal", where she took other people's stories, added her by-line, and made them her own stories.
Her memoir isn't especially sentimental, but its style and tone is word-perfect. It's a beautiful construct and source of wonder, despite the ugliness of its setting in Jersey City. ("God, it’s brutal out here." Apparently, there has been some improvement in recent years. To paraphrase Steely Dan, I've never been to Jersey City, but I plan to find the time.)
Early on, when Helene writes succinctly about non-family members (e.g., the politicians) and the architecture and history of Jersey City (e.g., going to the cinema at the Loew's), she makes it sound intimate, like it's part of her family's story (which, in a sense, it is). Everything that happens in the city around them is incorporated into the quilt that generations of her family will drape over their shoulders in bed. These stories contribute comfort, just as much as guilt, shame and embarrassment.
[Loew's Jersey City Source]
Big Families
If the memoir lacks anything, it's a family tree that allows readers to visualise the relationships between the many family members over the course of a century or so. This is not to say that the individuals aren't vividly portrayed. They certainly are.
My suggestion might just reflect the fact that neither FM Sushi nor I come from a particularly big family, nor have we started one. (She reckons, never let them outnumber you.)
Our two daughters must be almost unique, in that they have absolutely no cousins, not one between them, although they've always had valuable relationships with their aunts and uncles.
Cargo Theft and Swag
Occasionally, the book reminded me of personal experiences of my own. Here are two in particular:
While reading, I encountered a word that I wasn't previously familiar with (in this context), namely "swag", which Helene uses to describe goods stolen by employees from their employers, almost as if it was their entitlement to take something home at the end of the day (besides their pay packet).
If you worked for a shipping business or a trucking company (one of Helene's relatives was a longshoreman), you felt you could take home a percentage of the cargo.
While I didn't know the word, I was aware that this practice occurred. I was first exposed to it on a trip to New York in 1982. I stayed at the Hotel Chelsea, and one afternoon I decided to have a late lunch at the Spanish restaurant under the Hotel (El Quijote). I was the only guest in the restaurant, apart from a lady who was about forty years my senior.
Eventually we started a conversation, and she invited me to come up to her apartment and meet her husband who was a longshoreman.
Although he was very pleasant to me, he was clearly upset by something that had occurred at work that day.
When his wife pried further, he revealed that he had been promoted at work. However, the problem was that, in order to receive his promotion, he had to transfer from the whiskey wharf to the banana wharf. This meant that he would have to take his cut in bunches of bananas rather than bottles of whiskey. Neither of them was excited by the prospect.
Telling the Truth (and Living with the Consequences)
In the context of telling the truth, over dinner, my father once told my girlfriend for a (short) time (she was from a wealthy grazing family), that her family had made its wealth from robbing a local branch of the bank that my father worked for, but the police didn't have enough evidence to charge and convict them, so they got away with it.
I drove my girlfriend home after dinner, and never saw her again. It took me a long time before I invited a girlfriend to dinner with my parents. Though it was also a long time before I found another girlfriend.
SOUNDTRACK:
August 21, 2014
This is my pet peeve book. I grew up in Jersey City around the same time as the author (full disclosure: she did research at the library I was working in at the time and even thanks me in the acknowledgements). My family was not as colorful as hers, I have to say. She tells a good story, but I bristled when she said that her father was the one honest member of the family, but that he took home stolen goods occasionally, since apparently everyone in Jersey City did that. Well, my Dad was a blue-collar worker in JC at that time and he would have died before taking anything that was stolen. To me, this spoke of her myopic view of the city and the times. If it didn't happen outside of her world, then it's ignored. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth.
August 3, 2017
Great title. Some excellent material, but it never quite paid off the way I hoped it might. Of course, it's 'true,' so there's that. But the jacket includes so many rave reviews that they oversell the book. The comparison to Angela's Ashes was impossible for this book to survive.
Knowing little about Jersey City, I enjoyed the memoir on several levels. The best material may be the talk of swag and the frank stories about corrupt politicians. (Wow.) No wonder the author grew up a cynic.
But the reviewer just did this book damage by saying the author does for Jersey City what McCourt does for Limerick, Ireland. This is a good book. It is not a great book--but it is good enough for what it is. And there will always be room in the world for good books. Publishers should not give cover space/jacket space to reviewers that spoil books with unrealistic expectations.
Knowing little about Jersey City, I enjoyed the memoir on several levels. The best material may be the talk of swag and the frank stories about corrupt politicians. (Wow.) No wonder the author grew up a cynic.
But the reviewer just did this book damage by saying the author does for Jersey City what McCourt does for Limerick, Ireland. This is a good book. It is not a great book--but it is good enough for what it is. And there will always be room in the world for good books. Publishers should not give cover space/jacket space to reviewers that spoil books with unrealistic expectations.
May 23, 2020
Five-Finger Discount: A Crooked Family History by Helene Stapinski (Random House 2001) (Biography). This is a cleverly-written account of the author's extended and extensive family of origin. Her forebears, principally Polish, got off the ship at Ellis Island but never made it past Jersey City, New Jersey. This account is filled with rollicking tales of low-level criminal activity, of growing up poor without ever being aware of it, and of ward-level big-city local politics. Even when recounting sad anecdotes, author Helene Stapinski always manages to bring good humor and a positive outlook to the telling. My rating: 7.25/10, finished 6/20/16.
February 10, 2019
Having grown up in Hudson County just one town north, I know very well the kind of corruption that went on in Jersey City. We Hudson County natives are so used to it, nothing shocks us.
I found her story intriguing and although I do not recall seeing her by-line, I am certain I must have read many of her news articles in the Jersey Journal. (My family bought two newspapers every day - The Hudson Dispatch and the New York Daily News; the Dispatch covered my towns Weehawken, Union City, Hoboken, West New York and North Bergen more than the Jersey Journal which covered more of the Jersey City and Bayonne goings-on. The New York Daily News we bought to keep up with the national news, for the numbers, the racetrack results and because it ran my favorite journalist's column Jimmy Breslin. We bought the Jersey Journal very rarely. We also pronounced Tonnelle Avenue as "tun-ah-lee" not "tun-lee" as this roadway passed through my town as well although I avoided it at all costs).
I recognized almost every street and building that she mentions in her book and although I did not personally know the people she spoke of, I knew OF them because they made headlines all the time. In fact, my late mother worked as a labor and delivery nurse at Margaret Hague for years so I was very familiar with these names.
I thought the book was very well written and although there were just a handful of times I became confused over which family member was which, I thought the anecdotes were interesting to the point where I had a hard time putting the book down.
When I read a book and have that recognition of names or places, it makes the book that much more fascinating and hard to stop thinking about long after I am finished reading. There are two other books that I can recall having the same impact on me; Blind Faith by Joe McGinness and Spiked Snowballs and Flaming Cats by John Daly. Both of these books took place in my hometowns, Union City where I grew up and Toms River the town just south of where I live now and where my family owned a summer home.
I have to give this author credit because I have very "colorful" relatives too but I would never pick up pen to paper to publish a book talking about them. Mainly because it borders on family disloyalty and because these are not my stories to tell. She has a lot of guts writing this book!
I would recommend this book to anyone who has an interest in the history of Hudson County and particularly Jersey City and/or who loves anecdotal memoirs. I know I do!
I found her story intriguing and although I do not recall seeing her by-line, I am certain I must have read many of her news articles in the Jersey Journal. (My family bought two newspapers every day - The Hudson Dispatch and the New York Daily News; the Dispatch covered my towns Weehawken, Union City, Hoboken, West New York and North Bergen more than the Jersey Journal which covered more of the Jersey City and Bayonne goings-on. The New York Daily News we bought to keep up with the national news, for the numbers, the racetrack results and because it ran my favorite journalist's column Jimmy Breslin. We bought the Jersey Journal very rarely. We also pronounced Tonnelle Avenue as "tun-ah-lee" not "tun-lee" as this roadway passed through my town as well although I avoided it at all costs).
I recognized almost every street and building that she mentions in her book and although I did not personally know the people she spoke of, I knew OF them because they made headlines all the time. In fact, my late mother worked as a labor and delivery nurse at Margaret Hague for years so I was very familiar with these names.
I thought the book was very well written and although there were just a handful of times I became confused over which family member was which, I thought the anecdotes were interesting to the point where I had a hard time putting the book down.
When I read a book and have that recognition of names or places, it makes the book that much more fascinating and hard to stop thinking about long after I am finished reading. There are two other books that I can recall having the same impact on me; Blind Faith by Joe McGinness and Spiked Snowballs and Flaming Cats by John Daly. Both of these books took place in my hometowns, Union City where I grew up and Toms River the town just south of where I live now and where my family owned a summer home.
I have to give this author credit because I have very "colorful" relatives too but I would never pick up pen to paper to publish a book talking about them. Mainly because it borders on family disloyalty and because these are not my stories to tell. She has a lot of guts writing this book!
I would recommend this book to anyone who has an interest in the history of Hudson County and particularly Jersey City and/or who loves anecdotal memoirs. I know I do!
September 29, 2010
‘I stole. But in a socially acceptable way.’
This interesting memoir by Helene Stapinski is her account of what it was like to grow up in Jersey City during the 1970s and 1980s. If Jersey City was well known for corruption during this period, then many members of Helene Stapinski’s family would have felt right at home.
Ms Stapinski’s family had its share of interesting characters, as well as its share of tragedy. Her story, including a family legacy of crime, is recounted with a mixture of affection and humour. Her grandfather (‘Beansie’) threatened to kill her family when she was only five years old, while her father fed his family (at least in part) using food stolen from the cold storage company where he worked. Other relatives and friends kept her family supplied with free toothpaste and soap from the nearby Colgate factory. Another family member was active in the New Jersey political machine, while an aunt brought home books (stuffed in her girdle) from a local bookbinding firm.
According to Ms Stapinski: ‘Swag wasn't the same thing as out-and-out stealing. It was an unwritten rule in Jersey City -- and all of Hudson County -- that you could take as much merchandise as you could carry from your job. The politicians skimmed off the top, so why shouldn't the little people?’
This is not simply a recounting of a tough childhood, although it certainly contains those elements. I found it hard to get behind the descriptions of events and incidents to appreciate the people involved. Certainly, it is a story of people adapting – in both the best and the worst possible ways – to the circumstances in which they found themselves.
I found the book interesting reading: the story of Ms Stapinski’s family woven around a story of New Jersey. Still, I think that Ms Stapinski’s story is far from complete – she can only have been around 37 years of age when this memoir was published.
‘.. so close yet so far from wondrous New York City.’
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
This interesting memoir by Helene Stapinski is her account of what it was like to grow up in Jersey City during the 1970s and 1980s. If Jersey City was well known for corruption during this period, then many members of Helene Stapinski’s family would have felt right at home.
Ms Stapinski’s family had its share of interesting characters, as well as its share of tragedy. Her story, including a family legacy of crime, is recounted with a mixture of affection and humour. Her grandfather (‘Beansie’) threatened to kill her family when she was only five years old, while her father fed his family (at least in part) using food stolen from the cold storage company where he worked. Other relatives and friends kept her family supplied with free toothpaste and soap from the nearby Colgate factory. Another family member was active in the New Jersey political machine, while an aunt brought home books (stuffed in her girdle) from a local bookbinding firm.
According to Ms Stapinski: ‘Swag wasn't the same thing as out-and-out stealing. It was an unwritten rule in Jersey City -- and all of Hudson County -- that you could take as much merchandise as you could carry from your job. The politicians skimmed off the top, so why shouldn't the little people?’
This is not simply a recounting of a tough childhood, although it certainly contains those elements. I found it hard to get behind the descriptions of events and incidents to appreciate the people involved. Certainly, it is a story of people adapting – in both the best and the worst possible ways – to the circumstances in which they found themselves.
I found the book interesting reading: the story of Ms Stapinski’s family woven around a story of New Jersey. Still, I think that Ms Stapinski’s story is far from complete – she can only have been around 37 years of age when this memoir was published.
‘.. so close yet so far from wondrous New York City.’
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
January 20, 2020
In Five-Finger Discount: A Crooked Family History
by Helene Stapinski, the author details her life growing up in tough Jersey City, New Jersey. This is long before Jersey City's recent revitalization efforts.
Helene grew up in a family that was, shall we say, dysfunctional. When she was five, her grandfather tried to kill her whole family.
She tells us all about her family's (mis)adventures while also giving a real feeling of Jersey City's history. Surprise, surprise, Jersey City had several crooked mayors. Crooked politicians in New Jersey? Say it ain't so!
Helene has a great sense of humor, calling Jersey City residents "Jersey Citizens" and saying about her trips to Journal Square:
Parts of this book are very funny and some of it is very sad. Helene, however, was smart and made something of her life. She graduated from New York University and Columbia University and has worked as a journalist. Her story makes for fascinating reading.
http://theliterarylioness.com/2020/01...
Helene grew up in a family that was, shall we say, dysfunctional. When she was five, her grandfather tried to kill her whole family.
She tells us all about her family's (mis)adventures while also giving a real feeling of Jersey City's history. Surprise, surprise, Jersey City had several crooked mayors. Crooked politicians in New Jersey? Say it ain't so!
Helene has a great sense of humor, calling Jersey City residents "Jersey Citizens" and saying about her trips to Journal Square:
Because of the Journal Square bus and Path station, the area also attracted the homeless, who back then were called bums.
Parts of this book are very funny and some of it is very sad. Helene, however, was smart and made something of her life. She graduated from New York University and Columbia University and has worked as a journalist. Her story makes for fascinating reading.
http://theliterarylioness.com/2020/01...
February 14, 2008
I thought that the narration was confused--at times it seems to be a history of the politics and corruption of Jersey City, then it would go into personal family history, and then especially towards the end how embarrassing it was to have so many criminals in the family once it was the author's peers instead of relatives who were old or long-dead. Any one of these narratives would have been interesting, but it felt very spotty as is.
June 15, 2011
The stories in this book are entertaining but as a memoir and family history it's hard to follow. I became confused over the characters and the time line.
April 10, 2019
As a book for anyone, this is a 2 - a memoir that is more a list of her family history than it is insightful. But I really enjoyed reading about the Jersey City stories that mostly took place in the couple blocks around my home.
Read
April 23, 2013Provides a lot of good information about the politics of New Jersey in particular about Jersey City. Run by tyrannical Frank Hague for thirty years (1917-1947) the tie between local politics and the mob becomes clear. Author also details the history of her family a good portion of whom were on the take in one way or another. Her grandfather, Beansie, was a Frank Hague type maintaining control through intimidation. She shows how corruption can start small but really is very similar to political corruption. Lays bare her own wrongdoing and that of near family members which couldn't have been easy. If there is such a thing as criminal culture then this book offers a view of how it develops and perpetuates.
April 19, 2010
Helene Stapinski has *some* family -- seriously, it was a rare relative who didn't steal or commit worse crimes, although the author adopts a light tone at time, discussing the lobster tails and cakes her father brought home for dinner. They "fell off the truck." Much of this memoir takes place in the 1960s and 1970s, but it feels older, like a noir movie. The material is great, as Stapinski uses her family's stories to illustrate the overall corruption of Jersey City. At times, the book is heartbreaking. My only complaint is that it is a bit too episodic. But as memoirs go, this one is a standout -- particularly because the author is relatively young.
February 5, 2018
This book is a National Bestseller. Why? I have no idea. I ordered it because it is a first person account of a woman's life growing up in Jersey City, New Jersey. The fact it is a National Bestseller was NOT the reason I wanted to read it; I'm from NJ and THAT was the reason I wanted to read it.
Terribly disappointed. Most of the book reads just like a grocery shopping list. Just a recitation of her and her family's life events, devoid of any emotion. My grocery list has more emotion than this book. She doesn't reveal her feelings, anywhere. Just a monotone recitation of events. How it became a bestseller is beyond me.
Terribly disappointed. Most of the book reads just like a grocery shopping list. Just a recitation of her and her family's life events, devoid of any emotion. My grocery list has more emotion than this book. She doesn't reveal her feelings, anywhere. Just a monotone recitation of events. How it became a bestseller is beyond me.
January 16, 2012
The book starts off well: clever, witty, entertaining, insightful, and full of historical tidbits about both Jersey City and the author's family. About 1/3 of the way in, I realized the author was trying too hard to emulate Frank McCourt, Augusten Burroughs, and Mary Karr. What Stapinski lacks, however, is the self-deprecating humor that other memoir writers have. She also reuses punchlines, which comes across as lazy.
March 25, 2012
Helene Stapinski definitely comes from a colorful Jersey City family. This book describes some of those characters----including her Grandpa, probably the one member of the family that could be described as truly evil, after he tries to kill his daughter and grandchildren. Stapinski eventually is able to grow up and escape Jersey City and "that life" by becoming a journalist. An ok story, though not a "must read". It was ok if you like stories about goofy, dysfunctional families.
January 18, 2010
It was a good premise and she writes well, but she was not a criminal. I thought there would be something juicy. Boring!! Just a memoir but not very interesting. You think she's leading up to something with her family history and she's just a regular person. WHich is good, but doesn't make for an interesting book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 3, 2017
I gave up 1/3 of the way through... I bought this book because I thought it would be a quirky, risky memoir, but it turned out to be a book on Jersey City's political and overall history. Bit of a snooze-fest if you ask me. Some of the content was funny, but most pages I ended up skimming and eventually threw in the towel completely.
August 15, 2015
Loved this book! Incredible story and wonderful characters that come to life--and what a life it was! Fantastic memoir about Jersey City family. Great read.
December 20, 2022
"SWAG AS A WAY OF LIFE"
The concrete jungle of Jersey City was devoid of greenery and kids did not trick-or-treat during Halloween because it was too dangerous. This was Ms. Stapinski’s childhood growing up in the nineteen-sixties and seventies. As the author depicts it, practically everybody was grifting out of necessity. Hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out even the pigeons were doing it. Large industrial plants in the area were a major jobs creator but also spewed ungodly amounts of toxins into the surrounding areas. Kids playing in the streets inevitably lead to children being killed by traffic. Drug dealers, junkies, and the homeless hanging about people’s apartment doorsteps or in the entryways if the door was unlocked was the norm. Ms. Stapinski’s life as a child was very different than mine. I grew up in a rural Maine paper mill town with a low crime rate and greenery practically always in eyesight. Mainers left our doors unlocked. Because the author and I are about the same age but from very different social environments, I found ‘Five-Finger Discount’ to be highly interesting.
Ms. Stapinski has a nice whimsical writing style. She talks a lot about not only her extended family’s history but also Jersey City’s unsavory politicians, police, judges, businessmen, citizens, and notorious events since the founding of city. In one way the memoir is a sociological observation about how the poor blue-collar city encouraged citizens to steal because it was so ubiquitous. The author reminisces about people she misses and some characters that were monsters, especially her maternal grandfather. It’s clear she’s not a fan of Jersey City. ‘Five-Finger Discount’ also touches upon such things as bookies; alcoholism and the local taverns; racism; growing up in a violent environment and thinking it was the norm; how the area was a dumping ground of pollutants; systemic corruption; regional prejudices; political and police brutality; oodles and oodles of corrupt bureaucrats and politicians; the Mob; inventive ways kids played in such urban blight; her mom working at the Department of Motor Vehicles; class envy; suicides; mean school nuns; marriage scams; her struggles with the Catholic religion; many citizens taking pride in being either illiterate or never having read a book; their rampant superstitions and rumor milling; shoplifting; the author working at the area’s Jersey Journal newspaper and covering the police beat as well as writing a weekly column; and eventually her escaping to New York City. Ms. Stapinski is forthright and boldly introspective. She pulls off the difficult feat of conveying sarcasm while delivering it in a mildly humorous empathetic manner. There are moments of sadness as well as tender scenes. The memoir concludes with two relatives’ separate crimes having a broader impact on the author’s extended family. The book was published in 2001 but before the Twin Towers collapsed. There were moments in it where the author’s comments sent a chill up my spine, knowing that, in a few short months, terrorists would dramatically alter America’s mindset. Her memoir does not include any photos, so I resorted to the Internet for visual references.
Reading ‘Five-Finger Discount’ made me thank my lucky stars that I grew up in rural Maine. I viewed Ms. Stapinski’s memoir as a close observation of how urban blight encourages crime at all levels including many people in power. There are lots of examples where citizens shoot themselves in the foot but believe it was the smart choice. It explains why this subset of voters is the kind who regularly voted for a looooooong line of openly corrupt Democrats. The author’s frustration with Jersey City residents is palpable. These people are local-boy-gone-national Trump’s bread and butter where he will pat you on the back while picking your pocket. Ironically, Ms. Stapinski’s harsh urban upbringing helped form her into a bold aggressive investigative reporter and made ‘Five-Finger Discount’ into the gem of a critical-thinking memoir it is.
The concrete jungle of Jersey City was devoid of greenery and kids did not trick-or-treat during Halloween because it was too dangerous. This was Ms. Stapinski’s childhood growing up in the nineteen-sixties and seventies. As the author depicts it, practically everybody was grifting out of necessity. Hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out even the pigeons were doing it. Large industrial plants in the area were a major jobs creator but also spewed ungodly amounts of toxins into the surrounding areas. Kids playing in the streets inevitably lead to children being killed by traffic. Drug dealers, junkies, and the homeless hanging about people’s apartment doorsteps or in the entryways if the door was unlocked was the norm. Ms. Stapinski’s life as a child was very different than mine. I grew up in a rural Maine paper mill town with a low crime rate and greenery practically always in eyesight. Mainers left our doors unlocked. Because the author and I are about the same age but from very different social environments, I found ‘Five-Finger Discount’ to be highly interesting.
Ms. Stapinski has a nice whimsical writing style. She talks a lot about not only her extended family’s history but also Jersey City’s unsavory politicians, police, judges, businessmen, citizens, and notorious events since the founding of city. In one way the memoir is a sociological observation about how the poor blue-collar city encouraged citizens to steal because it was so ubiquitous. The author reminisces about people she misses and some characters that were monsters, especially her maternal grandfather. It’s clear she’s not a fan of Jersey City. ‘Five-Finger Discount’ also touches upon such things as bookies; alcoholism and the local taverns; racism; growing up in a violent environment and thinking it was the norm; how the area was a dumping ground of pollutants; systemic corruption; regional prejudices; political and police brutality; oodles and oodles of corrupt bureaucrats and politicians; the Mob; inventive ways kids played in such urban blight; her mom working at the Department of Motor Vehicles; class envy; suicides; mean school nuns; marriage scams; her struggles with the Catholic religion; many citizens taking pride in being either illiterate or never having read a book; their rampant superstitions and rumor milling; shoplifting; the author working at the area’s Jersey Journal newspaper and covering the police beat as well as writing a weekly column; and eventually her escaping to New York City. Ms. Stapinski is forthright and boldly introspective. She pulls off the difficult feat of conveying sarcasm while delivering it in a mildly humorous empathetic manner. There are moments of sadness as well as tender scenes. The memoir concludes with two relatives’ separate crimes having a broader impact on the author’s extended family. The book was published in 2001 but before the Twin Towers collapsed. There were moments in it where the author’s comments sent a chill up my spine, knowing that, in a few short months, terrorists would dramatically alter America’s mindset. Her memoir does not include any photos, so I resorted to the Internet for visual references.
Reading ‘Five-Finger Discount’ made me thank my lucky stars that I grew up in rural Maine. I viewed Ms. Stapinski’s memoir as a close observation of how urban blight encourages crime at all levels including many people in power. There are lots of examples where citizens shoot themselves in the foot but believe it was the smart choice. It explains why this subset of voters is the kind who regularly voted for a looooooong line of openly corrupt Democrats. The author’s frustration with Jersey City residents is palpable. These people are local-boy-gone-national Trump’s bread and butter where he will pat you on the back while picking your pocket. Ironically, Ms. Stapinski’s harsh urban upbringing helped form her into a bold aggressive investigative reporter and made ‘Five-Finger Discount’ into the gem of a critical-thinking memoir it is.
October 31, 2023
Judge this book by its cover – hint, it’s a great cover.
Take a look at the photo on the front, a six-year-old (or so) young Helene fists balled up in a coat that might have come out of a 1920s Sears catalog. A couple things stand out.
First, despite the seedy background, her clothes are clean and mended. This is not, despite the look, an urchin. She’s a kid whose got a family behind her. And this book is rich in its evocation of family.
Second, the kid gets the joke. She’s smiling like she gets that her family – or whoever’s taking the picture – is laughing with the game. They’ve asked her to pose as a tough little fighter, and she’s doing that. I suspect she really was a tough little fighter, but the point is that she’s alert enough to understand the game she’s playing. “Put up yer dukes” someone must have said, and she understood exactly what they were asking.
All that underscores the character – Helene herself – we meet at the center of this spiraling memoir. She has a great story to tell, her story but equally her family’s.
In the first, memorable sentence, she tells us that her clearest memory of her grandfather is that he tried to kill her. That’s shocking, especially since it turns out to be sincere, not irony or exaggeration. Her grandfather, known to one and all as “Beansie,” took offense at some small slight and, buying a gun, tried to track down the family.
I can see being horrified by that story, deciding it’s impetus to cut ties with a violent world and go elsewhere. I can also see holding it up for exotic points, the old “check out how crazy my childhood was.” Instead, Stapinski shows how it’s part of the violent, loving world that produced her and that – despite her opportunities to leave – she embraced.
Beansie has other ideas about the family. At one point, he worked for the Jersey City Free Library and routinely stole books to bring home – giving, as Stapinski laughingly puts it, new meaning to the concept of “Free.” He also winds up spending time in a sanitarium with his intellectually challenged brother.
But there are so many others: the aunt who decides she’ll make her son the mayor; that son who, despite mastering the arcana of municipal taxation, eventually gets convicted of financial crime; the father who, quietly and lovingly, supplies the family with grade-A seafood that “fell off the truck;” and the mother who, tough as nails herself, would shout at drug dealers and junkies who strayed too close to the front stoop of their apartment.
This is a book that celebrates an American mutt of a city – Jersey City – and that spreads its arms wide enough to encompass generations of a family woven into the fabric of that city.
Most of all, though, it works because it gives us the voice of that little girl on the cover – grown to a woman – as she reconciles the violent and loving extremes of her life.
Take a look at the photo on the front, a six-year-old (or so) young Helene fists balled up in a coat that might have come out of a 1920s Sears catalog. A couple things stand out.
First, despite the seedy background, her clothes are clean and mended. This is not, despite the look, an urchin. She’s a kid whose got a family behind her. And this book is rich in its evocation of family.
Second, the kid gets the joke. She’s smiling like she gets that her family – or whoever’s taking the picture – is laughing with the game. They’ve asked her to pose as a tough little fighter, and she’s doing that. I suspect she really was a tough little fighter, but the point is that she’s alert enough to understand the game she’s playing. “Put up yer dukes” someone must have said, and she understood exactly what they were asking.
All that underscores the character – Helene herself – we meet at the center of this spiraling memoir. She has a great story to tell, her story but equally her family’s.
In the first, memorable sentence, she tells us that her clearest memory of her grandfather is that he tried to kill her. That’s shocking, especially since it turns out to be sincere, not irony or exaggeration. Her grandfather, known to one and all as “Beansie,” took offense at some small slight and, buying a gun, tried to track down the family.
I can see being horrified by that story, deciding it’s impetus to cut ties with a violent world and go elsewhere. I can also see holding it up for exotic points, the old “check out how crazy my childhood was.” Instead, Stapinski shows how it’s part of the violent, loving world that produced her and that – despite her opportunities to leave – she embraced.
Beansie has other ideas about the family. At one point, he worked for the Jersey City Free Library and routinely stole books to bring home – giving, as Stapinski laughingly puts it, new meaning to the concept of “Free.” He also winds up spending time in a sanitarium with his intellectually challenged brother.
But there are so many others: the aunt who decides she’ll make her son the mayor; that son who, despite mastering the arcana of municipal taxation, eventually gets convicted of financial crime; the father who, quietly and lovingly, supplies the family with grade-A seafood that “fell off the truck;” and the mother who, tough as nails herself, would shout at drug dealers and junkies who strayed too close to the front stoop of their apartment.
This is a book that celebrates an American mutt of a city – Jersey City – and that spreads its arms wide enough to encompass generations of a family woven into the fabric of that city.
Most of all, though, it works because it gives us the voice of that little girl on the cover – grown to a woman – as she reconciles the violent and loving extremes of her life.
January 30, 2018
An oxcart of sentimentality yoked by 1,000 stories of stale family gossip. People from Joisey love it. The sane world should take a pass on this "National Bestseller" of nonsesne. Clearly, this book was published because she's in NYC and know to the publishing industry. There's little other reason.
The author makes big promises, in her "crooked" subtitle. And a bigger one in her opening line, referencing the night her "grandfather tried to kill us." We soon find out grandpa was a petty low-life who liked to shoot his mouth off at the dive bar downstairs. One day he upped the ante by bringing a handgun into the place and threatening violonce against the family. The cops had disarmed and arrested him the minute he stepped outside. Yet every twenty or thirty pages she cannot help herself but to envoke the trauma of how grandpa "tried to kill her." In his drunken haze of resentment he might've had an intent but in the author's own words he's proven himslef much too sloppy to attempt it. It's a needless overstatement that strains her credibility and sets the reader up for further let-downs.
The bigger strain on her credibility is the promise of the Crooked Family History. Sounds juicy, right? Maybe a mobster? A hitman? An enterprising criminal of note? We soon learn the apple falls not far from the tree. They're all unremarkable scum, two-bit low-lifes, chain snatchers, numbers runners, burglers and thugs. They're disorganized grifters playing short cons. They're the guy's who'll steal anything that's been laying around too long. Essentially, they're ambitionless morons who lack the planning to carry out crimes worth committing. The author does go into great detail about those types of crimes, committed by the city's elected officials.
What pisses me off about this book is it doesn't teach anything new. It simply reinforces all the stereotypes we believe about New Jersey and its people. Every. Single. One. As an ethnographic of Jersey City it serves only to make the reader wonder why they're all so clueless and pathetic. Even the "good guys" in her book suffer the toxic effects of Jersey's scumminess. The author opines people stay (like herself for 27 ugly years) because Jersey's family and you can't change your family.
The hell you can't, miss unimaginative. This country is full of stories of individuals pulling up stakes and moving North to Chicago or West to California. Unencumbered by the past, people reinvent themselves, change their names and begin again. Or, you stick around and lament what a dipshit everyone around you is, and has always been. The author didn't ended up crooked like the rest. But daring not to become another shiftless, low-rent hoodlum isn't exactly worthy of writing a book. A book that doesn't even begin to get interesting until page 188. Faggidaboudit.
The author makes big promises, in her "crooked" subtitle. And a bigger one in her opening line, referencing the night her "grandfather tried to kill us." We soon find out grandpa was a petty low-life who liked to shoot his mouth off at the dive bar downstairs. One day he upped the ante by bringing a handgun into the place and threatening violonce against the family. The cops had disarmed and arrested him the minute he stepped outside. Yet every twenty or thirty pages she cannot help herself but to envoke the trauma of how grandpa "tried to kill her." In his drunken haze of resentment he might've had an intent but in the author's own words he's proven himslef much too sloppy to attempt it. It's a needless overstatement that strains her credibility and sets the reader up for further let-downs.
The bigger strain on her credibility is the promise of the Crooked Family History. Sounds juicy, right? Maybe a mobster? A hitman? An enterprising criminal of note? We soon learn the apple falls not far from the tree. They're all unremarkable scum, two-bit low-lifes, chain snatchers, numbers runners, burglers and thugs. They're disorganized grifters playing short cons. They're the guy's who'll steal anything that's been laying around too long. Essentially, they're ambitionless morons who lack the planning to carry out crimes worth committing. The author does go into great detail about those types of crimes, committed by the city's elected officials.
What pisses me off about this book is it doesn't teach anything new. It simply reinforces all the stereotypes we believe about New Jersey and its people. Every. Single. One. As an ethnographic of Jersey City it serves only to make the reader wonder why they're all so clueless and pathetic. Even the "good guys" in her book suffer the toxic effects of Jersey's scumminess. The author opines people stay (like herself for 27 ugly years) because Jersey's family and you can't change your family.
The hell you can't, miss unimaginative. This country is full of stories of individuals pulling up stakes and moving North to Chicago or West to California. Unencumbered by the past, people reinvent themselves, change their names and begin again. Or, you stick around and lament what a dipshit everyone around you is, and has always been. The author didn't ended up crooked like the rest. But daring not to become another shiftless, low-rent hoodlum isn't exactly worthy of writing a book. A book that doesn't even begin to get interesting until page 188. Faggidaboudit.
February 11, 2025
Helene Stapinski’s memoir of life in Jersey City is one of corruption, violence, and wild times written with a bit more of a wink than all those bad times deserve. Growing up in the 1960’s and 1970’s, she paints a vivid portrait of petty larceny, running numbers and random acts of violence and then steps back into how the corrupt political regimes of different entrenched politicians created a whole subculture of jobs dependent on who you know and how much money gets kicked back to continue to feed these machines. Solid descriptions of life in the apartments looking at tar paper roofs and the lively if dangerous streets keep things moving along, but ultimately the lighthearted tone does not quite serve the description well; it makes for a very uneven read. But if you are looking for a first-hand account of life in one of NJ’s biggest cities in the mid-20th century, this will be worth a look.
August 8, 2022
the content is interesting. the author's family does a have story worth a memoir, and for being literally across the river from new york, there's a deficit of books about what hudson county is and has been like. in a lot of ways, it's the most forgotten part of the urbanized sections of the nyc metro when it comes to culture - new york is new york, newark had phillip roth, yonkers had a good david simon miniseries, and hell, even paterson has a decent self-titled movie. but stapinski never manages to make her family memoir into a compelling read even with the impressive material she had. for a 250-page book which i finished over the course of a weekend, it was a drag and felt like it took way longer than that. i learned a lot about the history of an area that frequent quite a bit, but idk if i would've stayed if i wasn't already familiar with jersey city and hudson county.
May 31, 2019
Enjoyed this one quite a bit. A fun look at a childhood spent in the wild of Jersey City, and the author's nutty family, which includes a felonious grandfather named Beansie who tried to kill her, and an assortment of others who are both honorable and lawless.
Stapinski is a seasoned reporter, growing up at Jersey City's own Jersey Journal, and effectively captures the ebbs and flows of this hardscrabble city next to Manhattan, and the people who inhabit it. Despite it being just across the Hudson from New York City, New Yorkers know little about it, and the book offers an intriguing glimpse.
Stapinski is a seasoned reporter, growing up at Jersey City's own Jersey Journal, and effectively captures the ebbs and flows of this hardscrabble city next to Manhattan, and the people who inhabit it. Despite it being just across the Hudson from New York City, New Yorkers know little about it, and the book offers an intriguing glimpse.
February 5, 2019
Helene Stapinski puts pen to paper to share with her reader, and her son the story of her family's history, and lifestyle in Jersey City, and the surrounding areas where she grew up. This story tells of how everyone in her family, and those from the neighborhood in some for or fashion was of the criminal element, but looked upon their actions as a natural way of life. Both humorous, and tragic, the story leaves the indelible mark that family is family, and no matter how you try, you can't escape the reality of the fact, you're stuck with them.
December 2, 2020
I don't know if this book will appeal to a broad audience, but it will connect with anyone who has roots in Jersey City--especially if they lived there during the Hague Machine years. My family wasn't nearly as "colorful" as the author's, but the stage she set certainly looked familiar and helped me better understand the world that shaped my grandparents' lives. Couldn't put it down, read it one long day during quarantine.
February 5, 2018
Take a little Frank McCourt, shake on some Cheryl Strayed, add a dollop of Jimmy Breslin plus plenty of Helene Stapinski’s own street wise voice and you get a taste of this funny, troubling take on one family’s rise and fall in Jersey City. Only bone to pick: keeping the myriad characters straight over the many years was tough. But as a newcomer to JC, I learned so much.
June 12, 2019
Overly sentimental writing and verbose. Family lore meets local beat byline meets memoir, that never quite connects. There are parts when the family history overlaps with local history and the author's thoughts, perceptions and growth from those moments but they are very few.
The author's story has the potential for a great book, she needed a better editor/publisher.
The author's story has the potential for a great book, she needed a better editor/publisher.
October 20, 2021
A place like no other!
Greatly enjoyed this book. Growing up in Jersey City, I experienced many of the same situations related by the author including graduating from St Aloysius HS in 1965. I grew up on the West Side where she was on the East but JC was virtually the same no matter where. I have recommended the book to several old friends.
Greatly enjoyed this book. Growing up in Jersey City, I experienced many of the same situations related by the author including graduating from St Aloysius HS in 1965. I grew up on the West Side where she was on the East but JC was virtually the same no matter where. I have recommended the book to several old friends.
October 8, 2025
I thought this was a history of a family of con artists. It is a story of a city full of bribes and graft, no-show jobs, bookies, burglers, embezzlers, and things falling off trucks. It is equally a memoir, family history, and history of Jerxey City.
The book includes words like midget, mongoloid, and shylock.
The book includes words like midget, mongoloid, and shylock.
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