The Crazy Ladies of Pearl Street

I don’t know where I first heard about The Crazy Ladies of Pearl Street (and why do I often see it written as The Crazyladies...), but it’s been on my radar for quite a long time. Probably since it first was published. I guess I had an interest in reading it because my husband spent part of his growing up time living on Pearl Street. I really had no idea what to expect about this Trevanian autobiographical novel. No idea when it was set or who the characters were. And Trevanian? A mononymous author? What was up with that?

Turns out that this novel is set on North Pearl Street, Albany, in the 1930s. The mostly Irish part of Pearl Street. My husband lived on the other end of Pearl Street, the Italian part of Pearl Street in the late 1950s or early 60s. I envisioned relaying anecdotes from the novel to my husband about the place where he had called home. That turned out not to be the case.

I’m not really sure where the word crazyladies comes in to play. Yes, there were some crazy ladies living on Pearl Street. But the story wasn’t about them. They were merely the supporting characters in the story of Jean-Luc’s time on North Pearl Street. Were his experiences unique to unique to Pearl Street? Or could this story have been set in any poor immigrant neighborhood in the time after the Depression until shortly after World War II?

I liked the snarkiness of the first person narrative, and I loved the use of language. Otherwise, the novel dragged on and I pushed myself to read it quickly… so I could be finished with it. It was good enough that I didn’t want to drop it, but it was keeping me away from books that I imagined I’d like a lot better.

In reading reviews, it seems that fans of other works by Travanian seem to appreciate this one a little bit more. But after slogging through this novel, I have no intention of slogging through another by him.