William Boyle’s Latest Novel Channels Brooklyn’s “Mythical” Quality

Boyle’s most recent novel is “Saint of the Narrows Street,” and another — “Heavy Sugar” — is due out next January. (Photo: Katie Farrell Boyle)

By Zachary Weg | news@queensledger.com

With “Saint of the Narrows Street” (Soho Crime, 2025), William Boyle has written one of the most compelling New York novels in recent memory. Full of both grit and heart, and an example of crime fiction at its most compassionate, the book takes place in Brooklyn over 18 years.

Boyle grew up in the Southern Brooklyn neighborhoods of Gravesend and Bensonhurst and has centered much of his writing there. His debut novel is even called “Gravesend” (2013), and he has been called the poet laureate of Southern Brooklyn. As for his continual fascination with the region, he’s drawn to both its locales and its residents.

“There are so many Brooklyn stories, so many corners of Brooklyn that I’ve never known, and will never know, but for my specific experience growing up in Brooklyn, it was definitely just kind of the people I grew up around, the stories they told,” he says. “The mythical quality of the place was always a draw for me.”

Having grown up a couple of blocks from 86th Street, where the car chase in “The French Connection” was filmed and where John Travolta does his slice-toting strut in the opening of “Saturday Night Fever,” Boyle also “grew up, of course, fascinated by mob lore,” as he says, and “always had this feeling” that he was living “in a place that was rich with both kind of history and kind of mythology.”

“Saint of the Narrows Street,” with its epic scope and length at almost 430 pages, is perhaps the culmination of Boyle’s memories of the neighborhood. A family saga centered around the incriminating secret kept between sisters Risa and Giulia Franzone, the novel sustains tension across its 18-year span. The book certainly is “a captivating, page-turning thriller,” as The Washington Post remarked.

Yet it’s more than that. Like the recent novels, particularly “Lush Life and Lazarus Man,” of fellow New Yorker and Boyle’s forbear, Richard Price, “Saint” is a panoply of characters, closing in on their innermost desires and then pulling back to reveal the outside forces that shape their lives. Even like Arthur Miller’s play, “A View from the Bridge,” “Saint” is a tragedy in miniature, its somewhat compressed timeframe building towards it shattering end.

As in “Bridge,” Brooklyn is the backdrop in “Saint.” Asked what keeps artists returning to the borough, whether it be a stalwart such as Spike Lee or the young rockers that make up the band, Geese, Boyle says, “There are just so many Brooklyn’s. That’s part of it. But it also must be something about that kind of mythical quality to it. You go anywhere in the world—not that I’ve been everywhere, certainly, but I’ve been to a few places—and people know Brooklyn.”

“And people have things that they identify with Brooklyn. I think that’s probably a little part of it. There has always been, and probably always will be, something kind of romantic about it as a place. For me, again, there are so many stories to tell and, despite the fact that people are always telling Brooklyn stories, there are still all of these untapped worlds in the borough.”

The Brooklyn of “Saint of the Narrows Street” is one of cramped kitchens, grimy bars, and hurtling trains. Beginning in 1986 and ending in 2004, the story starts almost in medias res as distressed housewife, Risa, is cooking dinner for her wild—and wily—husband, Saverio, or “Sav,” their baby, Fabrizio, or “Fab,” in the background. From this seemingly small, routine scene develops a larger story involving Risa’s younger sister, Giulia, and Sav’s close friend, Christopher “Chooch” Gardini, that explores themes of family, loss, and the choices we make. It’s a Brooklyn story, but one of universal truths.

“Saint” has received stellar reviews, including plaudits by Boyle’s fellow authors, Megan Abbott and S.A. Cosby. Regardless of all the praise, however, Boyle wants his readers to feel something after finishing the book, whatever that may be. As he says, quoting Tennessee Williams, “… I don’t even know what I mean to do, other than tell a story, find some truth, get a little communion going, and, suddenly, there are hidden messages. There are no hidden messages, no agendas, just frightened people heading toward the light.”

Yet Boyle isn’t done showing his Brooklyn. His latest novel, “Heavy Sugar,” is due in January 2027. “That book is set over one day in 1991,” he says. “Aside from one character from Saint of the Narrows Street who makes a little cameo in Heavy Sugar, it’s got nothing to do with it. But it’s set in ’91, a few months after the second part of Saint of the Narrows Street.” If “Saint” is any indication, “Heavy Sugar” is set to be another knockout. In the meantime, Boyle is putting his head down and getting back to work.

SCHWARTZ: Please Don’t Talk Over Bruce Springsteen

Let the man sing! (Photo: Wikipedia)

By Lana Schwartz | lana.schwartz925@gmail.com

We come to this place for magic, Nicole Kidman says in the AMC pre-movie spot that launched a thousand memes.

To me, as it is to Nicole, the movie theater is sacrosanct, governed by a social contract that dictates no talking, no texting, and generally being cool about being in a public space with a lot of people.

Unfortunately, that contract grows weaker by the day. Now it feels like a rare privilege to be amongst an audience that doesn’t spend a film’s two hour run time looking at various acquaintances’ Instagram stories. During a showing of “Sentimental Value,” I heard a woman say to her date, unprompted, “That’s the guy from earlier,” as though to clear up any potential confusion. Though maybe she was proud of her recognition skills and wanted to show off.

Thought dictated by a different set of rules, I consider concert venues, and by extension, concerts to be a sacred space. Sure, concerts call for more audience engagement, and phones are hoisted high in the sky, but there are other, more general precautions to take like, saying excuse me when you move past someone, or doing your best not to spill your drink everywhere.

But the number one rule — and I can’t believe I even have to clarify this — is that you shouldn’t talk over Bruce Springsteen. Even if you’re not at a Bruce Springsteen concert, the maxim still applies.

I will admit to having been in a bad mood recently. For weeks, I had been contemplating snagging tickets to see Bruce Springsteen  — and by the time the concert rolled around, I figured attending the concert might cheer me up. I’d engaged in the intricate (and demeaning) dance that was buying concert tickets to see a major artist in 2026: Opening Ticketmaster, filtering by price, refreshing my browser, waiting for the price of tickets for the best possible seats to approach what I was willing to pay for them. $200 for a spot in the 112 section of Barclays Center was the compromise this Ticketmaster bot and I agreed on.

Upon taking the stage, Bruce spoke more cogently and with more gumption about the Trump administration than almost all Democrats. He sang the hits and then some, urging all of us to remember our humanity and connect through art. And the two people sitting in front of me talked through the whole thing. They talked so much, this man and woman, I thought maybe they were having an affair, because if they can talk this much at home, why would they need to talk while Bruce Springsteen was playing? But their matching iPhone backgrounds of them decked out in their wedding outfits proved their matrimony to be holy.

Listen, I understand wanting to make a comment or two about the concert; to say “I love this song!” and “Did you know Patti Smith wrote this one?” This was, instead, an ongoing shouting dialogue completely unrelated to the show at hand. I questioned if their tickets were so cheap, they didn’t feel an obligation to enjoy the show, or if they were so wealthy, a few hundred dollars on a night out is barely a drop in their Rockville Centre-living bucket. (Rockville Centre is my best guess.)

There were two men seated behind me also enjoying a long, loud conversation. And while I also am concerned about the male loneliness crisis, there’s a reason you get a beer before the show to catch up.

I will admit to asking the couple in front of me to “be quiet, for just like, one song?” They sank down to their seats, ashamed, and resorted to showing each other text messages on their phone. Being quiet for only one song was really all they were capable of.

It was only when the show was over that I realized Springsteen played for three full hours. The man is 76 years old. He is trying to entertain, educate, and inspire us. If you were willing to give him your money, why not give him your attention? You have his.

Lana Schwartz is a writer who was born and raised in Queens and today lives in Brooklyn. Her writing has appeared on The New Yorker, The Onion, McSweeney’s, and more. She is the author of the books “Build Your Own Romantic Comedy” and “Set Piece.”

COBB: Red Auerbach’s Williamsburg Roots

Red Auerbach (right) seated next to NBA champion Bill Russell in 1956. (Photo via Wikimedia)

Remembering the legendary NBA coach and Williamsburg native who built one of the greatest dynasties in the league’s history. 

GEOFFREY COBB | gcobb91839@Aol.com

Author, “Greenpoint Brooklyn’s Forgotten Past

We are entering the NBA playoffs and championship season again. May is also Jewish Heritage month, so it’s appropriate to celebrate a Jewish man from Williamsburg who was arguably the greatest NBA executive of all time and one of the NBA’s greatest coaches.  It is hard to think of the great Boston Celtic dynasties without thinking about Red Auerbach, the cigar smoking, red haired, Jewish basketball genius from Williamsburg. The brains behind the Celtics dynasty, Red won 16 NBA championships in 29 years as coach, GM, and president. Voted the greatest coach in NBA history by the Professional Basketball Writers Association of America in 1980, he entered the Basketball Hall of Fame in 1968.

Born in 1917, Arnold “Red” Auerbach grew up in Williamsburg. His family lived in a three-story building on Broadway near S. 5th. Auerbach’s father owned and operated a dry-cleaning business at N. 3rd and Bedford, and his older brother also operated one at N. 8th and Bedford. His brother Zang Auerbach, 4 years his junior, was a respected cartoonist and portraitist at the Washington Star who also created the iconic Celtic leprechaun logo.

Today, Red’s boyhood neighborhood is an area of Hasidic Jews, but in Red’s day it was the home to many tough first-generation kids like Auerbach. Asked when he first started playing basketball, Red answered curtly, “when I could walk.” As he got taller, he honed his court skills not only in school but also at the local Young Men’s Hebrew Association off Marcy, and at the Annex, a “tough, Irish working class” recreation center on McKibbin St. Boys clubs, like the Y.M.H.A. it offered neighborhood kids like Red a way to have fun and stay out of trouble.

Red went to High school during the Great Depression at Eastern District High School on Grand Street, which is now defunct, but the building survives as a Hassidic school. Red characterized his basketball teammates at Eastern District as “a real melting pot—we had Italians, Irish, Jewish guys, and one black player.” Auerbach succeeded both on the court and off, making the all-Brooklyn high school basketball team as well as becoming class president. Auerbach left Brooklyn after graduation, first on an academic scholarship to Seth Low Junior College of Columbia University, then being recruited by George Washington University in Washington D.C. where he played three years of varsity basketball.

After graduating in 1940, he briefly taught high school before joining the American Basketball League’s Harrisburg Senators for a year.  Then, he got his first pro coaching gig coach of Washington Capitals of the Basketball Association of America in 1946 before that league merged with the NBA.  In 1949, Auerbach became coach of the Tri-City Blackhawks in Davenport, Iowa, but his real break came in 1950 when he was named to be the coach of the Boston Celtics, where he would coach until his retirement from coaching.

The Celtics already had a Hall of Fame player, Holy Cross legend Bob Cousy, but it was not until 1956 that their dynasty began when the team drafted Hall of Fame Center from the University of San Francisco Bill Russell, who helped the team win the NBA championship in its first year. The next year the Celtics lost to their archrivals the St. Louis Hawks in the NBA championship. The following year the Celtics won again, and they would reign as champions through eight seasons, still an NBA record.

The Celtics’ reign was during 1960s, the period of the Civil Rights movement and crumbling discrimination. Auerbach had an excellent relationship with African American players like Russell and under his leadership the Celtics became the first N.B.A. team with a mostly black starting lineup. During their seventh championship, the Celtics seemed to have lost their passion.

After the Celtics lost Game One of the 1966 Finals, Auerbach shocked the basketball world by announcing that Russell would become his successor next season, making him the first black coach in any professional sport, and inspiring the Celtics to win their 8th straight title. Asked why he named Russell coach Red responded, “I did it because I knew that at that stage of his career, nobody could motivate Russell other than Russell, and he needed a challenge greater than just playing.” The controversial move, Red claimed “was in the best interests of the Celtics.” With Russell as player-coach, the Celtics lost to Wilt Chamberlain and his great 76er team of ’66-’67, but they rebounded to win two more titles, before Russell retired in 1969.

The Celtics would win two more titles, but by the 1979, the Celtics were in decline. Then, Auerbach made a legendary move as General Manager, using the team’s first round pick to choose a player who was not coming out of school for another year, NBA legend Larry Bird. The Celtics won 60 games in Bird’s rookie year, after which Auerbach created another dynasty by acquiring both center Robert Parrish and forward Kevin McHale in a trade known as “the steal of the century.”  In that trio’s first six years together, the Celtics won three titles and lost in the finals (to the Lakers) two other times.

In 1984, Auerbach retired as general manager of the team. Auerbach was elected to the American Jewish Sports Hall of Fame in 1991. He passed away in 2006 and to honor him, the Celtics named the basketball court at the Boston Garden “Red Auerbach Parquet Floor.”

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