The Godfather: Revisited

The Godfather is, without question, a cultural phenomenon, at its core, always about more than just the American Mafia (a word that is not even said in the first movie). The film series, particularly the first two, are on most critics' short lists for some of the best movies ever made (the third, which I do happen to like, not so much …). The film is so ubiquitous that it seems as if many Godfather Devotees have forgotten, if they ever even knew in the first place, that it came from a novel.

            I am a huge Godfather fan. When someone asks, I usually say the first film is my favorite movie of all time, and I’ve read the book twice. Well, now make it thrice, as I thought it would be fun to go back and read it again.

            I won’t go into many plot details, for anyone who cares to read this review will likely have at least seen the film. The Godfather, first published in 1969 and written by Italian American author Mario Puzo, tells the story of the Corleone family, the most powerful Mafia family in the United States, in the post World War II era. The family is led by Don Vito Corleone, a larger-than-life, mythic version of a Mafia boss – a wise, old king as beloved as he is feared. His power comes under threat from a new industry, the burgeoning drug business, which serves as both a plot element and a metaphor for the changing criminal world, a world bereft of the honor of the past. After a failed assassination attempt on the Don, his youngest son Michael, who to date has had nothing to do with the family business, is pulled into his father’s world, ultimately inheriting the kingdom from the aging Don.

            Reading Puzo’s novel, it is apparent why it was an enormous bestseller. At the time, there was little else like it out there; the majority of the American public’s exposure to the Mafia in film and television came in the form of cartoonish goons in black-and-white movies and TV shows. Puzo’s work, as well as the films, have been rightly criticized for an idyllic portrayal of Organized Crime. His Corleone Family works more like a clan of yore. They love their families, they take care of their communities, and only kill when absolutely necessary. However, Puzo’s book does give readers what is likely their first glimpse into the tentacles of the Mafia that reach into so many “legitimate” businesses and the cutthroat world of blood feuds and vengeance. And there are some pretty disturbing moments and characters in the book. The famous horse’s head, arguably the most famous scene in the first movie comes to mind, as well as Luca Brasi’s short backstory given in the novel. Some of the darkness is lost in subtext, but when they describe the Don’s people taking collections, that is referring to extortion.

            Puzo’s prose is sharp and readable, and outside of the bizarre and completely unnecessary subplots that involve Johnny Fontane and Lucy Mancini (the bridesmaid Sonny Corleone has an affair with), the novel flows nicely.

            People who criticize the novel and films for not giving an accurate picture of the Mafia are missing the point. The novel was never supposed to be a tell-all exposé about the Italian Mafia, but more of an Italian opera, a tribute to Italian culture through the lens of Organized Crime. The Don and his sons are clearly the “good” Mafiosos, while their enemies are the bad ones. Beyond an Italian story, it is an extremely American one. Puzo, who had no ties to the Mafia, saw his own parents and likely everyone they knew struggle in the United States, while others of their countrymen thrived. A poor Italian immigrant flees violence and comes to America, only to get wrapped up in violence in the mean streets of New York City, a man who rises from nothing to the very top, becoming a millionaire and providing a better life for his loved ones. Of course, to do so, people have had to get hurt and have even died for the Corleone fortune, and this is, I think, the ultimate appeal of Mafia stories, especially to people like me who are not of Italian descent. We have been raised to believe that the system is fair, just, and that we can be anything we want. While this happens for some, it certainly doesn’t happen for all, and Mafia characters, from the unrealistically noble Don Corleone to the highly complex Tony Soprano, are men who recognized this early and made their fortunes their own way. People who, when they have a problem with someone or something, solve it themselves. While most of us are law-abiding citizens, the idea of not having to take other people’s crap when you don’t want to is highly appealing.

            There are some dated things in the novel, specifically around women, but this is in line with both the era and the type of people about which Puzo was writing. As mentioned before, both Puzo's literary Don and Brando's version is kindly, Yoda-like in his wisdom, a man who detests violence and vice personally who just happens to make his living off of it. Some of the characters, notably the Don's oldest son Sonny and his lifelong friend and capo Clemenza that are slightly more realistic potrayals of Gangsters, as is the villanious Phillip Tattaglia, but most of them are idealized versions, and that is fine.

There are “sequels” to the novel that came years later, all of which I’ve read and all of which are fun, but fans of Puzo’s novel should check out his book The Sicilian, which, while not a direct sequel The Godfather, features characters from it.