Djamel White's Debut Novel 'All Them Dogs' Delves into Dublin's Criminal Underworld
In the gritty badlands of west Dublin, Djamel White's debut novel All Them Dogs emerges as a powerful new voice in Irish literature. This vividly propulsive neo-noir crime thriller masterfully blends street slang with poetic simile, creating a compelling narrative that explores the dark intersections of toxic masculinity, homoerotic desire, and brutal violence.
A Tale of Murderous Desires and Betrayal
The story follows Tony Ward, a man on the run for five years after killing someone in a gang fight, who returns to his home turf under the protection of a local crime boss. Paired with the tall and sullen enforcer Darren "Flute" Walsh, Tony is thrust back into a grim routine of collecting debts and drug dealer's dues. As they navigate a world of old scores and hard knocks, their partnership evolves into a visceral dance of desire and betrayal, where murderous intentions unexpectedly lead to love as well as death.
White's ability to conjure a downbeat world of rundown estates, boxing gyms, and tattoo parlours is truly compelling. The narrative rarely stops moving, much like its sharklike protagonist, and this episodic quality lends the novel a gritty realism that is both confidently portrayed and exuberantly realised. Each scene pulses with a dynamic energy that captures the raw essence of Dublin's criminal underbelly.
Exploring Psychosexual Dynamics in a Neo-Noir Setting
At its heart, All Them Dogs delves into the repressed and repressive male energy that fuels brutality, while teetering on the brink of vulnerable homoeroticism. The doomed love between Tony and Flute forms the emotional core of the story, though it risks getting lost amid an overcomplicated plot. There are moments of intense erotic spark, such as when their connection ignites at a student party, but these flashes of passion often feel intermittent, scarcely feeding the burning sense of longing and suspicion that Tony is meant to experience.
Both men present as blank slates in terms of sexuality, which could heighten the intensity of their predicament but instead seems to dissipate into an obscure and alienated state of desire. In a disjointed sex scene, an intriguing exchange leaves it uncertain whether they are discussing killing or sex with another man, highlighting the tragic nature of their emotional joint enterprise, which feels more secure in violence than in intimacy.
Critique and Ambitions Beyond the Crime Genre
While the plotting may seem a little imposed and overcomplicated, White's ambitions extend beyond the harsh restrictions of the crime genre. The novel employs a first-person stream of consciousness, following Chekhov's notion that the writer's duty is to take the part of the guilty men. Tony, as a character, is a bold choice for this endeavour, often appearing as an arrogant bully beyond the reach of even his author's compassion. Though many frailties are revealed beneath his braggadocio, the true emotions and psychosexuality of this angry and battered male psyche remain unknowable, adding a layer of realism to the narrative.
There are glimpses of tender feelings, such as when Tony wistfully imagines a life with Flute on beaches and dancefloors, but a fiercer sexual and emotional charge might have provided a stronger counterpoint to the heightened violence that follows. As Tony wonders, "But where was the rage?" one feels that perhaps there wasn't enough passion initially, leaving their luckless relationship underdeveloped and the lethally heartfelt double-cross of its denouement lacking in poignancy.
Published by John Murray and priced at £18.99, All Them Dogs marks Djamel White as a significant new talent in Irish literature, offering a raw and unflinching look at the complexities of desire and betrayal in Dublin's dark corners.
