Marijia is wrapped up in situational irony when a false run on the local bank leads her to withdraw all her money. Withdrawing her money turns out to be a big mistake:
[...T]oward afternoon she got into the bank and got her money—all in big silver dollars, a handkerchief full. When she had once got her hands on them her fear vanished, and she wanted to put them back again; but the man at the window was savage, and said that the bank would receive no more deposits from those who had taken part in the run. [...] The cause of the panic had been the attempt of a policeman to arrest a drunken man in a saloon next door, which had drawn a crowd at the hour the people were on their way to work, and so started the 'run.
Marija is terrified by a false "run" (when many people all withdraw their money from a bank at once because they fear the bank will fail), and she makes a grave error by withdrawing all her cash. Because so many other people scramble to get their money out, she quickly decides it’s the only way to prevent the loss of her savings. However, it’s quickly revealed that the panic was actually caused by a policeman's attempt to arrest a drunken man—meaning, in other words, that it's not a genuine financial crisis.
The situational irony in this passage arises from Marija's misguided belief that she is protecting herself by withdrawing her money. However, the true cause of the panic is unrelated to financial disaster. Maria is so keen to save her money that she ends up putting it in a very precarious situation, and she is also blacklisted from ever using the bank again. Through this irony, Sinclair highlights the unintended consequences of Marija's actions. In trying to be cautious, she actually made things much worse.
Furthermore, the incident sheds light on the uselessness of lawmakers in the novel. The police are supposed to preserve order in the community. However, the disturbance is caused by the actions of a policeman. If it had been a real "run," Marija would have been wise to remove her money. However, as it was actually just another incident caused by Chicago's ineffectual and corrupt police force, she just makes her situation worse.
When describing Jurgis's miserable state in jail, the author employs verbal irony and an allusion to “The Ballad of Reading Gaol." This was a poem written by the British author Oscar Wilde, who was also unjustly imprisoned. The narrator ends the chapter with this enigmatic statement:
So wrote a poet, to whom the world had dealt its justice—
I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong.
And they do well to hide their hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of God nor son of Man
Ever should look upon.
The allusion Sinclair makes here draws a parallel between Jurgis and Wilde. Wilde was imprisoned in England in the late 19th century because he was gay (homosexuality was criminalized by the bigoted government at the time). Wilde wrote and published this poem after his own imprisonment as a kind of social protest. He and Jurgis were both victims of unjust legal practices, and both "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" and The Jungle contain messages of social reform.
By invoking the poem, the author emphasizes the harsh reality of Jurgis's situation, the unfairness of the ruling that convicted him, and the inhumane conditions of the prison in which he's incarcerated. What's more, by suggesting that the world "deals its justice," the narrator uses verbal irony to underscore the unjust nature of a system that allows such hardships and suffering to persist. In moments like this, the reader is prompted to reflect on the flawed nature of early-20th-century criminal justice.
A drunken Freddie fumbles with his wallet, clumsily shuffling around a huge wad of cash as he complains to the homeless Jurgis about lacking funds. Sinclair brings a sense of realism and situational irony to the scene through both Freddie's words and his use of mid-century American English:
“Looks like a lot, hey?” said Master Freddie, fumbling with it. “Fool you, though, ole chappie—they’re all little ones! I’ll be busted in one week more, sure thing—word of honor. An’ not a cent more till the first—hic—guv’ner’s orders—hic—not a cent, by Harry! Nuff to set a feller crazy, it is. I sent him a cable, this af’noon—thass one reason more why I’m goin’ home. ‘Hangin’ on the verge of starvation,’ I says—‘for the honor of the family—hic—sen’ me some bread. Hunger will compel me to join you—Freddie.’ Thass what I wired him, by Harry, an’ I mean it—I’ll run away from school, b’God, if he don’t sen’ me some.”
Freddie's use of dialect—with phrases like "feller" and "word of honor"—brings a silly, mid-century English quality to his speech. This use of dialect immerses readers in the scene. It allows them to imagine how characters like Freddie might really have sounded. This enhances the realism of the exchanges he has with Jurgis and, later, with his butler.
The situational irony of this passage lies in the stark disparity between Freddie's wealth and Jurgis's poverty. Despite Jurgis's desperate circumstances, Freddie, in his state of drunkenness, expresses his worries about losing his allowance. Although Jurgis is filthy and starving, Freddie complains to Jurgis about his own perceived deprivation and his concerns about money. This irony highlights the inherent unfairness of their respective situations. Freddie lacks all self-awareness.
Freddie's complaints serve to emphasize the absurdity of his concerns to Jurgis and the reader. The stark contrast between Freddie's privilege and Jurgis's struggles illustrates the social and economic disparities within The Jungle. Freddie genuinely believes his situation is a bad one and that he's close to being "busted" if his father cuts him off. Sinclair's situational irony here underscores the injustices faced by characters like Jurgis. Working-class immigrants are trapped in a cycle of poverty and exploitation while people like Freddie indulge in excess. The version of being "busted" that Jurgis experiences in Packingtown differs fundamentally from Freddie's ignorant vision of poverty.
When they describe the alliance between Chicago's lawmakers, its criminals, and its wealthy elite, Sinclair's narrator employs situational irony. The American judicial and financial system, in their view, is a brotherhood of thieves:
All of these agencies of corruption were banded together, and leagued in blood brotherhood with the politician and the police; more often than not they were one and the same person—the police captain would own the brothel he pretended to raid, the politician would open his headquarters in his saloon [...] On election day all these powers of vice and crime were one power; they could tell within one per cent what the vote of their district would be, and they could change it at an hour's notice.
Sinclair portrays the police and authority figures as villains rather than regulators or defenders of the peace. This highlights the author's view of the corrupt nature of the American legal and financial system. The police and the courts are not there to protect the people. Rather, they help the rich take advantage of the poor. Sinclair's idealistic portrayal of socialism is shown as the only thing in The Jungle that might expose and challenge such widespread corruption. Poverty, in this novel, is essentially criminalized. The voting system is depicted as utterly skewed to benefit the wealthy, so nothing can change.
The term "agencies" is used here to refer to both literal bureaucratic entities and the various ways in which corruption operates within society. The narrator employs this double meaning to emphasize the pervasive nature of the problem. It’s absolutely everywhere, and there’s no escaping it.
