The Battle with the Slum — A Reader’s Guide

The Reformist’s Toolkit: From Police Raids to Model Tenements

Riis catalogs a range of interventions against the slum, from the demolition of notorious courts like Gotham Court to the establishment of the Mills House lodging for workingmen. He presents these as tactical victories in a larger war. The excerpts show him weighing the effectiveness of each approach: the police “lodging” for the homeless is described as a temporary fix, while model tenements are held up as a more permanent solution. Riis is particularly attentive to the role of private philanthropy and municipal regulation, though he does not shy from criticizing Tammany Hall’s obstruction. A recurring motif is the physical transformation of space—the “letting in of light” through widened streets and the clearing of rear tenements. He treats these changes as measurable progress, yet the tone remains urgent, as if the battle is far from won.

The Gang as a Social Organism

One of the most detailed passages in the excerpts concerns the transformation of a street gang into a settlement house club. Riis recounts how college settlement workers gathered “all the little embryo gangs” into clubs with names like “Young Heroes” and “Knights of the Round Table,” except for one older gang that held aloof. Eventually, that gang sent a delegation offering to “change and have your kind of a gang.” Riis uses this anecdote to argue that the gang is “the club run wild” and that the proper response is not suppression but redirection. He warns against curfew laws as impractical for New York, noting that the dangerous hours are “from seven to nine, between supper and bedtime.” The club, he insists, must be “a real club, not a reformatory.” This section reveals Riis’s pragmatic, almost ethnographic approach to social problems.

The Limits of Charity and the Role of the State

Riis is critical of both laissez-faire indifference and ineffective charity. He describes the “helpless poor” who refuse to leave their slum even when offered better housing, attributing this to a lack of “resources to face the loneliness of the woods and the fields.” This observation leads him to argue for a more comprehensive approach that includes not just housing but also education, recreation, and political reform. He notes that the instinct for organization in boys, if not channeled, becomes the gang; similarly, the instinct for community in adults, if neglected, reinforces the slum. Riis’s proposals are concrete: he advocates for boys’ clubs, model tenements, and the removal of corrupt political influences. Yet he remains aware of the limits of reform, acknowledging that “Tammany blocked the way most of the time.”

Voice and Evidence: How Riis Builds His Case

Riis’s prose is direct and often vivid, but he grounds his arguments in specific cases. The excerpts include references to “the college settlement girls” and their work with gangs, as well as a story about a run on a penny provident bank that was stopped by the converted gang. He also cites his own previous publications, creating a sense of ongoing investigation. The book is illustrated with photographs and drawings, though the excerpts do not describe them in detail. Riis’s authority derives from his role as a journalist and reformer who has personally visited the sites he describes. He does not claim omniscience; instead, he presents himself as a witness and advocate. Readers should note how he moves between statistical claims and narrative examples, often using the latter to humanize the former.

The Battle with the Slum is best approached as a document of Progressive Era reform, rich in period detail and personal observation. Riis’s focus on the interplay between physical environment, social organization, and political power offers a framework for understanding urban poverty that remains relevant. Readers interested in the history of social work, urban planning, or New York City will find this a valuable primary source. The book rewards careful attention to its anecdotes, which often carry the weight of Riis’s argument.

Riis wrote of tenement battles with a weary, stubborn hope. That same quiet, unsentimental care lives in Don't marry — Story, Setting & Ideas, though it's a different sort of war—one of the heart's own cramped rooms. Both books watch people trying to build something decent with what little they're given, and I've often thought of them together, shelved side by side in my memory.