Customer Reviews

Rat Bastards: The Life and Times of South Boston's Most Honorable Irish Mobster

5 star:		(27)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(24)

 

 

I have read all Irish mobster books. This is the most far fetched book I have read so far. First of all, the first 4 pages made me throw the book across the room. I don't think anyone cares about Shea's ventures in the hotel room, about how "too beaucoup" he is. I decided to give it another read and actually began to enjoy the story. The enjoying ended when he started to speak on his recollection of what happened between himself, Whitey, Weeks and Flemmi. Although I don't think Weeks book is the complete truth, I think Shea is 100% fiction compared to this. I personally love the one quote where he says that Bulger says "do you know who I am, I am Whitey Bulger!".....I think every Boston book has made it clear that he was not referred to as Whitey, especially to his face. Shea attempts to make it seem as though he was Bulgers equal. I have no doubt that he is tough, but he makes Kevin Weeks look like a pansy. Atleast Weeks had the courtesy to be honest in his opinion of Shea, but let the facts be known. I did enjoy the story, and finished the book but it is the worst book in its class as far as Im concerned.

I read this half expecting it to be something like Michael Patrick MacDonald's exquisite "All Souls." What a disappointment! As a lifelong Bostonian and former amateur boxer who had a few occasions to interact (marginally) with guys who knew the entire dramatis personae of this book's genre, I would call it a fairy tale. Shea was a second rate amateur boxer and a thug. The book is so self-aggrandizing and insubstantial. And from what I have heard of Whitey Bulger, he did not suffer fools gladly.

I am SO glad I read this via a library and didn't pay a cent for it! Johnny Shea is the ultimate example of the self-serving, ignorant Southie project product. Absolutely NO redeeming value to Shea or his fictions. An embarassing project, one which should never have been put to publication. In a world of insecure, self-important criminals attempting to cash in on their connections to Bulger, Shea stands apart as uniquely loathsome. A MUST not-read.

I got it at the library which makes me feel less violated. Let me first start out by saying I have never written a review of anything. I rarely feel the need to tell anyone my opinion, be your own judge is my feeling. But I just had to reach out to the other readers or would be readers of this drivel. I spent some time living in Southie during my 12 years in the Boston area. It was a neighborhood struggling with a bad reputation and the gentrification most of the city was dealing with. Many of the die hards I met belived the rest of Massachusettes was the extent of the earths surface never to be seen or ventrued into lest they be shocked by the civilization they might be confronted with. As an Irish-American I was disgusted by the ignorance I encountered. This book sums up the worst of South Boston and is a sad reminder of what can happen when a young man grows up without a father and an education. Where is the honor is dealing poison to your neighbor? I just kept waiting for the teenage boy who wrote this book to grow up. Every chapter was more laughable than the last, a total ego stroke throughout, and highly suspect in every aspect. A point I would greatly like to make is this... dear author, your girlfriend did't want you back because while you were in the prison system, still behaving as the twenty something who went in, she was moving on with her life, maturing,becoming more intelligent and world wise. Something you, dear author greatly need to do. My only fear is that other young men struggling with the same lack of guidance will read this book and find hope in it. If your interested in a great South Boston crime book read "All Souls" or "Black Mass" and leave "Rat Bastards" on the half price self where it belongs.

This extraordinary book examines the life of the Irish Mob in South Boston from a reliable insiders point of view. This extremely well written memoir draws you in as if John Shea is sitting in front of you speaking directly to you. I have been able to listen to him being interviewed as well, by names such as Howie Carr, and feel that one misconception that people have about John Shea is that where his integrity lies is within the life that he chose. He honored the code of that life and that's what makes him honorable. He did his time for the crimes he committed. No excuses, no deals, just paid the price.

If you're just getting into what has now become a genre of Irish/Southie/True Crime books, definitely start with the ones done by the writer/reporters, ie, Black Mass, Westies, and Paddy Whacked - books with multiple sources and footnotes and everything - instead of the biographies. I've now read all the Southie books except for Kevin Weeks', which I'm only kind of looking forward to after this one and Pat Nee's. This is the conclusion I have come to.

If you're just interested in this book, it is, essentially, one big self-inflicted ego stroke minus numerous details that would have added to the intrigue of the tale. There are almost no interesting, well-developed or enlightening stories aside from the tales of prison life.

The biggest thing I came away with from this book is that Shea feels the need to tell you how tough he is at least once in every single chapter. Frankly, it gets tiresome and takes away from the story. Shea turns from a would be protagonist (if you buy into the "admirable" qualities the main character portrays) into someone you hope will at least bring something redeeming to the table in the end. It doesn't happen.

This one had potential. Unfortunately, the egomania, the lack of details, and the lack of developed stories take away from the impact.

As mentioned, read the compilation books first, followed by All Souls (truly excellent), Street Soldier (what this book could have been, ie, very authentic and interesting, even if horrifying), and A Criminal and An Irishman (Nee, it seems, is one of the only genuine stand-up guys). From there, the rest are pretty much the same.

It is amazing to see a book so riddled with erroneous information still selling. It is a pure disgrace. I'm sad to say that it just doesn't matter that Shea has fabricated the majority of his memoir. In a recent Boston Globe article, journalist Shelley Murphy found the retired police officer that Shea claims offered him a deal to rat on Whitey and walk away from 20 years in jail. Guess what-the retired officer says, "It just didn't happen!" But still the beat goes on-people do not care. What has happened to America-have we all become idiots.
If I was from Southie I would stand up and call out Shea for his series of misnomers. It would become my Southie responsibility to lead a movement that stops Shea for misleading the readers. Shea is using his Southie roots to steel money from those of us who have always been fascinated by the strength of this fabulous Irish city.
I've read all the Southie books and by far the best one in my opinion is the one we hear nothing about-"A Criminal & an Irishman" by Pat Nee.

I think it is Catwoman who has the agenda here. She is right on one thing-I didn't read Rat Bastard. I tried but couldn't possibly finish. You see Catwoman-I grew up with Red Shea. I know Red Shea. Rat Bastard is a fraud! Red was probably sitting next to you as you wrote your review. Now I'll give you the facts-Red was a cocaine dealer. Red was not an Irish Mobster. I agree with the reviewer who urges the Southie residents to call Red to task for his lies and for taking advantage of what Southie means to us. In fact, you can hear the talk swelling on Broadway. If you're from Southie and you know the 3 individuals who wrote the books currently being peddled about Southie-you know one thing is 100% truth. Pat Nee is the only retired Irish Mobster left in Southie. In fact, that is why you will never see the other two "gangster" speak any ill of his book, "A Criminal & an Irishman."

If you would like a guided tour through the mind of a dim-witted sociopath, this is the book for you.

It's funny the moral gymnastics that one must master when choosing to enter a life of crime. And like any good memoir should do, this book has the reader wrestling with the same notions of moral relativity and ethical ambiguity the author describes (perhaps unintentionally). [BIAS ALERT: as a Boston native this subject matter has always held my attention.]

The surface of Rat [...] is littered with braggadocio and swagger (Napoleon Complex?); but to focus on that would be to discount the true themes of the book, namely honor, integrity, and personal dignity. Taken out of context, these themes prove for an interesting ethical debate:

On the one hand, Shea describes pumping thousands of grams of cocaine into one of Boston's poorest neighborhoods while making untold profits. But on the other hand, he manages to evoke the reader's empathy by describing a brutal childhood growing up fatherless in Southie with no moral compass but the street amid rampant chaos and economic despair. One finds oneself asking, "What would I have done in that situation?".

Another interesting paradigm is this whole notion of Whitey as a rat (as if a a man without a conscience could be held to any ethical standard, but I digress). Whitey Bulger was a calculating sociopath who managed to compromise the very people investigating him by selling out his competiton piecemeal (the Italian Cosa Nostra) while his own organization was allowed to expand their market and thrive under protection. If he were a legitimate businessman today he would be praised for his strategic acumen. Again, one finds oneself asking, "What would I have done in this situation?". But when one learns that Bulger also informed on his own organization, and [perhaps more importantly] never tipped them off, the thrust of the book becomes clear: "How would I feel if someone did that to me?". Rat Bastard, indeed.

The salvation of this book is its Epilogue. I was somewhat heartened, after bearing countless pages of brutality, depravity and human degradation to hear the author's words of remorse for the innocent people he hurt. This seemed to lend a little more credibility to all his talk of honor and integrity.

In the end, you're left with the feeling that this was a guy who paid his debt and is trying to move on.

I wish I could have given it 4 stars, but Shea remains tight-lipped about many stories and details Boston true crime junkies like me enjoy reading...in true standup guy fashion, I guess.

[PS: if you want to tease out disingenuous reviewers or those with an agenda, simply discredit reviews containing egregious grammar and spelling. Southie is not known for its school system...]