A young Irish gangster is caught in a brutal dance between love and loyalty
Tony Ward is back in Dublin. After five years in England, where he fled after murdering a rival gang member, he returns to find that his mentor is dead and his best friend has gone straight.
Keen to reestablish himself, he jumps at the chance to work for the enforcer of a local crime boss. But Flute Walsh is a far cry from the boy Tony once knew. Drawn to Flute in ways he never expected, Tony finds that the boundaries he thought he understood are beginning to break down. Is there room for connection in a world where nothing stays buried and where retribution is just a bullet away?
By turns savage and tender, unexpected and intimate, All Them Dogs is a gripping story of violence, greed, and desire that explores one man’s struggles to find balance in an unsparing world.
I can't say that I've read many mafia books, but I've seen the movies, and stylistically, All Them Dogs sits well next to Mean Streets and Gomorrah. It has that raw, unapologetic, confusing atmosphere, and it will take some work to understand who is who and for whom everyone is working. We start with our protagonist, Tony Ward, trying to make a return to gang life after some years apart, following a crime he had committed. His experience is our experience. We know as much as he does. When he doesn't play the mandatory pretending game of the world he wants to conquer, he is a confusing fellow even to himself. And he is gay, or at least attracted to the guy hierarchically above him.
"I stared back over at him. Something about this fella's skin, man. Even with the wind it didn't go all red like everyone else's. His gaze was like a flashlight that just caught you rapid in the back seat, joints half rolled on your lap."
No, this isn't one of those guilty pleasure novels, which made me think that the last gay guy in "serious" mafia media goes back to The Sopranos. And that was an episodic character who gets killed because he is gay, which can create the impression that we will take whatever someone gives us on the subject, even if it is the bare minimum. But the author, Djamel White, thankfully created complex dynamics in this untouched territory. Tony is clearly gay, but it's unclear how many people know it. He feels the pressure to hide it, but the motives may be more personal, because his love interest, Darren (Flute), seems more comfortable being himself than he does. In their first intimate moments, Tony seems to negotiate, while Flute offers himself entirely. There are some beautiful, tense moments between these two, and the most impressive part is that their story is part of the bigger conflict at play. This is really a great mafia novel, which just happens to have a gay character as the protagonist.
"When I kissed him, he seized up like a key in the wrong lock and I felt the muscle of his neck ripple under my hand, just for one second before his lips came apart."
I see that many people compare this to Shuggie Bain. I can see it in the difficulty of the language. It is there. But I really think that the fact that the protagonist is a red flag waiting for something bad to happen isn't comparable to what happens in the bleak universe of Douglas Stuart.
"I remembered looking back over my shoulder as we ran away, Eddie Glackin lying there alone, not a friend in sight to hold him as he bled out, and I thought what a lonely world it was for unlovable fucks like us."
Tony is part of the organized crime world. He does bad things, so yes, something bad will happen, but that doesn't mean he can't be the one on top, or the one who survives. The last third of the novel reminded me of Goodfellas, and I believed until the last page that he could do it, whatever that meant. And that's why this novel was amazing, because the tension continues to build up until the last moment. Highly recommend it if you like mafia books, films, or lgbtq fiction.
Think of the grittiness from Young Mungo and the self-destructiveness from Anyone’s Ghost. This debut about a queer gang member in Dublin really struck a chord with me.
While reading, I wanted to shout at Tony so many times. After laying low for five years, he just slips back into his old life like it’s nothing. I felt the tension simmering when he chased people for money, the way he brushed off his own feelings whenever kids were involved. He was selfish, let his anger and fear take over, and somehow truly believed there was no other way but to mess everything up and get dragged back into gang life. Even Fanny, with her world at college, and Prendergast, who told him he might still become a fashion designer, couldn’t pull him out.
The story starts like the calm after a storm, until that same storm circles back and wrecks everything in its path. It kept me on edge, and I couldn’t stop reading. The knot in my stomach that formed in the first few pages only got tighter, and I clenched my fists more times than I can count. That ending left me staring into the distance, wishing for a sliver of hope.
Be aware that All Them Dogs is pretty disturbing and triggering in many ways.
Thank you, Riverhead and NetGalley, for this gut wrenching ARC.
Now I am going to add to this initial statement because that paired with my star rating undersells it a bit - All Them Dogs is a grim story of gang violence in Dublin, written in the tight perspective of Tony Ward, who has returned to Dublin after five years' exile following his murder of a man. Back in Dublin, Tony, blinkered to any other options, slips right back into the duplicitous, brutal world he fled.
While he does find friendship in a couple of people around him, and a clandestine sexual relationship with his boss's enforcer, Darren (Flute), his way forward is jagged and vicious. He neither sees his own capacity for nor has the insight to imagine escape or redemption. It's rough going for that reason: this is not a character with much of what you'd call an arc, so much as a young man caught stagnant in a culture of murder and ruthless self-serving.
The heavy dialect may take a minute to get into, but my real struggle with what I think is a valiant effort that pulls off some of its intentions is just the fact that the story is hopeless. My main critique, however, is not that. You will feel bad reading it (that's fine, we love to feel bad). But more than that, to its deficit, it is slow to pick up and then all comes to a head, and very little happens in terms of plot in the middle. Or when it does, there are few peaks and valleys to the action--it all moves forward in a kind of monotone that jangles to a conclusion in the last 20 or so pages. And Tony's stunted emotions are sometimes difficult to engage with. Even his violence is dissociated from him, so that the whole book is like watching with mild horror through fogged glass. Still, it kept me reading, it goes by pretty quickly, and it has a unique voice and willingness to commit to its premise.
I'd be pleased to pick up a second novel by White, because I can't tell from this book if he's going to develop into a virtuoso or be mired in this one mode. He could truly go either way and won't it be--not fun, but interesting--to see which it is?
This is not really my kind of book - a thriller of sorts set amongst petty but ruthless gangsters in a poor part of Dublin, but it is well written and quite compulsive at times, not a difficult read if you can cope with all the violence and the street slang. A puzzling inclusion for a Booker longlist.
This is gritty noir about gang violence in Ireland. It's not a book that would generally appeal to me, and I only read it due to its Booker nomination. I open with that to say people who like crime thrillers with a twist will probably enjoy it more than I did.
Tony Ward returns to Ireland after five years in hiding, having killed a man in a gang-related incident. His mentor has died and his best friend has gone straight, but Tony returns to his old line of work, taking a job under a notorious gang boss. He starts working closely with a local enforcer, Flute Walsh, a former schoolmate who has grown into an imposing, violent man. Tony's past resurfaces, and his complicated feelings for Flute become impossible to ignore.
This is another book I'm puzzled to see on the Booker Longlist. It reads as a fairly straightforward crime thriller about Irish gangs, written in street dialect and featuring a gay relationship. The dialect gives it energy, but the writing didn't strike me as doing enough beyond the genre to explain the nomination. It is fast-paced and filled with gruesome violence and graphic sex. The relationship with Flute is clearly meant to be the tender heart of a violent book, but Tony is so self-destructive that it read to me as one more bad choice. It's grim and bleak, and not for me.
First thing you always notice going into a stranger's gaff is the smell. Damp and smoky, that sickly-sweet smell of a spoonful of gear. It paints a picture.
Once you've seen one gaff you've seen them all.
All Them Dogs is the debut novel by Djamel White.
It is part of the rather too common genre of Irish crime fiction which Gumble’s Yard - Golden Reviewer has memorably dubbed craic cocaine.
I let the Opel roll into the spot in front of the apartment building. One of Finto's fellas coming up short on his dividends, we'd been told. Made-in-Turkey Finto Maher, with the hairline to his eyebrows and the gnashers like he had the back side of a train ticket stuffed into his mouth. Rough cunt, but weren't we all?
Flute there, stony and quiet in the passenger seat as usual. I was starting to think that he was just an odd bastard with not much more to him. Didn't stop me following his lead, though. Not that I enjoyed being told what to do. I was Wardy. Tony bleeding Ward. Lethal weapon forged in 1997 with a rap sheet that'd put them all to shame. Wild card just waiting for my time in the sun. Let someone else do the thinking. The things you tell yourself.
But this lacks the dark humour of Lisa McInerney, the gorgeous language of Kevin Barry and the authenticity of (not Irish but mentioned in the book’s blurb) of Gabriel Krauze - although the latter was a little too authentic verging on self-incrimination.
What remains is a quick and enjoyable (if one is OK with the level of Tarantinoesque casual violence) read, and the novel’s narrator, veering between bravado and neediness (it is notable how much he searches for someone, anyone, he can rely on, while alienating likely candidates via his actions) is memorably sketched.
And the novel’s main plot twist is somewhat contrived, with even the narrator commenting that it doesn’t make total sense.
2.5 stars rounded down to 2 for the unoriginality. But a writer to watch.
The judges' commendation
‘All Them Dogs, the debut novel by Djamel White, is a mouthy, ballsy and bracingly unsentimental portrait of West Dublin gangland, set well off the beaten track of the city’s usual literary landmarks. It charts the lives, loyalties and dealings of a semi-organised crime world. Yet, the novel’s real achievement lies in something quieter and more easily overlooked beneath the bullets and bone-breaking dramatics: a subtle, textured humanity woven among the violent hyper-masculine protagonists.
White is an impressive stylist. He has an ear for dialogue that is both racy and real, and a gift for atmospheric description that feels at once inventive and classically grounded. This writer understands that the vernacular of the street, handled with precision and care, can carry as much emotional and literary weight as any elevated register.’
Y’all. I haven’t felt this particular way after reading a book since Gabino Iglesias’s The Devil Takes You Home.
I knew All Them Dogs wasn’t going to be a happy story. I knew there most likely wasn't going to be a HEA, but I thought maybe there would be some sort of slightly okay ending. I couldn’t have been any further off.
All Them Dogs follows Tony Ward who is back in Ireland after hiding in London in the aftermath of a deadly skirmish between gangs. He’s a tough guy and runs by old rules, but when he comes back, things have changed. His friend Kenny has seemed to given up on the old ways, his half-brother is back from a failed relationship in Germany, and his mother’s health seems to be taking a turn for the worse.
Tony meets up with a man known as Flute and they begin to work together. Their relationship turns from working to something more. And there begins the fast unraveling of Tony’s life. He struggles to find his place in this new Ireland world he’s in, he finds himself in power struggles, personal struggles, and existential struggles.
I really enjoyed this book. It was heartbreaking at times to watch Tony make such terrible decisions for the sake of clinging to his old life. I wanted him to open his eyes and see what he was doing with his life and how that was affecting the people around him. I felt terrible for his mother being stuck between her two sons trying to right for them and for herself. Kenny’s character was interesting to me. I’ve always loved the “retired” gangster who’s now trying to stay on the straight and narrow type of character. He really tried to get Tony to see beyond the gang life and that they could continue to be friends outside of that life. So does Fanny, and to some extent, Flute in his own way.
Flute was also an interesting character, I felt like I could never really get a read on him. Did he actually care about Tony or was he playing the long game?
I think the only thing was that all the Irish slang kind of took me a bit to get used to. I’m not well versed in Irish slang and there were times I had to stop and puzzle out what some of the terms meant. This is a me thing, I often struggle with books written in heavily dialects unless I’m listening to an audiobook.
In the end, this was an incredibly bleak book, I wish they all had had more time.
Thank you NetGalley for the ARC. I won’t be forgetting this book anytime soon.
This is White’s debut novel, and though far from being perfect it says enough about him to be a writer to watch for in the future. It is a gangster noir thriller, set in working class Dublin, with occasional humour and tenderness to temper the violence. In itself, the premise is nothing new, but a third of the way in, White incorporates a twist that gives the story its own identity.
Not on its side though, is how unlikeable the main character and narrator is, Tony Ward, with a criminal past of which snippets emerge as the story progresses.
White writes the violent episodes well, though does not manage the humour and the compassionate aspects as well.
ALL THEM DOGS gripped me from the opening line, a Dublin I recognise, have lived alongside, but have never been apart of made disturbingly real in this spectacular debut. Themes reminiscent of Douglas Stuart’s Young Mungo and Colin Barrett’s Wild Houses with flavour of the RTE drama KIN. Thrilling, heartbreaking, and raw.
Another year of me not not doing the longlist! I swear…
It feels more enamoured with the aesthetics of the noir/gangster genre and underworld archetypes than with storytelling itself: clipped dialogue, a lacklustre plot and awkward prose that never quite lands.
Having grown up in West Dublin myself, in an area that has seen increased gang related violence in recent years, reading White’s debut novel felt (uncomfortably) familiar. This familiarity did give me a bit of a reading advantage as I was easily able to follow the slang/dialect that dominates the opening.
The voice employed by White for the protagonist, Tony, might be jarring for some readers at first, but it is fitting for his character. Tony is a flawed character with few redeeming features, often flying off the handle with little justification. However, I can’t help but feel that he represents many young boys and men who have found themselves embroiled in a world that promises more than it delivers - a world where risk outweighs reward and the rewards, if they come to fruition, are short lived.
The novel shows the inevitable path for some of these young men, with references made to when Tony was a “young fella” himself and the boys he comes across when he returns to Ireland. For me, this offers a critique of a system that fails working class boys and girls, men and women. With chronic underfunding in lower socioeconomic areas, the world of organised crime becomes a more appealing route, appearing to offer greater prosperity and stability - until, suddenly, it doesn’t.
The queer aspect of the novel helps to humanise Tony, emphasising the loss of a life he might have led had he made different choices as a young man.
I feel so deeply moved and affected by this book and these characters that it’s almost hard to put into words. I laughed, and laughed hard. I cried, too. This book captures the nuance of human connection against the backdrop of gangland Dublin in such a harrowing way. It is grim, haunting and soul crushingly beautiful - full of anger and longing and judgement, with a character who swings on a pendulum. Yearning for belonging one moment, looking down on the world from his perch with his rage in the next.
I feel like this story will haunt me for a long time. To say it put me through it would be an understatement entirely.
A fairly entertaining one-time read, though beyond that, there isn’t much depth here. The characters felt more like tropes and archetypes than real, living, breathing people.
Profundamente deprimente de uma forma que é difícil de explicar.
À primeira vista, parece que o protagonista vai sair por cima, ou talvez esteja por cima? É complicado ponderar a respeito do que alguém pode tirar de uma vida de crime. Apesar de passar cinco anos longe da "scene" em Dublin, Wardy volta e começa logo a trabalhar pra alguém com influência. A presença constante de itens de luxo ofusca o quão trágico são as coisas por aqui, a desgraça total que é a vida dele lhe pega de surpresa.
É interessante como existe um romance, se é que pode ser chamado assim o encontro do protagonista com Darren Walsh, e esse relacionamento é essencial para a narrativa, mas se encontra com ela de forma orgânica. De início eu não esperava que essa linha narrativa fosse ter qualquer valor, mas me surpreendi positivamente.
All Them Dogs is far more than a crime novel. White uses the world of Dublin gangsters to explore masculinity, loneliness, trauma, and the longing to belong. The protagonist, Tony Ward, is a compelling narrator. He's funny, volatile, self-deluding, unexpectedly vulnerable, and his growing relationship with a fellow gang member, Flute, gives the novel its emotional power.
White's prose is direct, lyrical, and steeped in authentic Dublin vernacular without ever sacrificing literary intentions. Hearing that vernacular performed in the audiobook adds another dimension to the novel, bringing the dialogue, humour, and emotional nuance vividly to life. Beneath the violence lies a surprisingly tender story about men trapped by the identities they've inherited and the possibility of becoming something more. This impressive debut is equal parts noir, psychological study, and love story.
Tony Ward coming back to West Dublin after five years away feels like lighting a match in a room full of fumes. From the first pages, there’s a sense of inevitability hanging over this book — that whatever Tony is hoping for, whatever fresh start he thinks he might manage, it’s already slipping through his fingers.
Home isn’t what he left behind. His old mentor is dead, his best friend has gone straight, and the criminal landscape has shifted without him. Tony has history, mistakes he’s still running from, and a reputation that follows him like a bad smell. When he falls in with Darren “Flute” Walsh — now a key enforcer for a local crime boss — it feels, to Tony at least, like a way back in. Protection, status, belonging. A no-brainer, or so he thinks.
But Flute is not the quiet lad Tony remembers from school. He’s brooding, unpredictable, and quietly terrifying, and the dynamic between them is electric from the start. There’s attraction there, dangerous and complicated, threaded through violence and loyalty and fear. What I really appreciated is how Tony’s sexuality is treated as part of the fabric of his life rather than the focus of the plot. This is a crime novel first and foremost — gritty, brutal, and tense — but it’s also deeply human, and often surprisingly tender.
Tony is a fascinating protagonist. He does awful things, makes consistently bad decisions, and yet there’s something heartbreakingly endearing about him. He feels broken in a way that rings true, and there’s a real sense that he wants to be loved, or at least seen, even if he doesn’t quite know how to ask for it. The supporting cast are just as well drawn, particularly his mother and brother, whose presence adds emotional depth and grounding to an otherwise ruthless world.
The writing is sharp, visceral, and unapologetically Irish. The dialogue crackles. The slang feels lived-in rather than performative. It reminded me of The Blood Miracles meeting Young Mungo, with shades of Kin running right through it. The pacing is relentless without ever feeling rushed, and the atmosphere is thick with menace and inevitability.
And that ending — genuinely unexpected, but absolutely spot on. It took me by surprise in the best way and gave the story exactly what it deserved. I closed the book feeling both satisfied and slightly stunned, which is no small feat.
This is a superb debut. Bleak, gripping, emotionally charged, and impossible to put down. I inhaled it. A vivid, fast-paced Irish crime novel with real heart and bite, and an early contender for one of my favourite reads of 2025. I’d be shocked if this doesn’t end up on screen somewhere — it’s crying out for it.
Pub date: 26 March 2026. Many thanks to the publisher for the opportunity to read via NetGalley — as always, this is an honest review.
I read this Irish crime novel because of its Booker longlisting... I am not exactly sure why it was chosen over other books, but I enjoyed it well enough.
The story is told from the perspective of Tony, who comes back to West Dublin after having been on the run for five years to avoid revenge for a murder he committed. Tony's objective is to work his way up in the criminal organisation of Aengus Lavelle. He is paired with 'Flute' and together the two men act as bailiffs for Lavelle. Then, feelings start to develop between them. A three way friendship with Lavelle's daughter is formed, but everything risks falling apart when ghosts from the past come back to hunt Tony.
I found the voice of Tony to be the novel's strongest point - he is a very well developed and believable first person narrator, even though he is pretty hopeless and you don't really see any viable prospects for him. This bleakness is, I suspect, very much the point.
4.5 stars. This book had me in a chokehold. It’s grim, it’s violent, it’s dark but Tony’s voice is really something special. It’s deeply sad how lost, angry and alone he js in this world of thuggery and violence and how his only salvation seems to be by proving his worth to all of those that he cannot, and should, not trust.
“His beauty hurt me, this unmarkable thing that bounced everything back towards me. Hating something beautiful makes your insides blacken and shrivel. It made me ugly. It made me see that I've always been ugly.”
All Them Dogs is a cautionary tale of what happens when living becomes about surviving and surviving means fighting. Tony is diabolically impulsive yet totally motivated by love and we watch him grow his own brambles as a result of both. It is hilarious, gritty and propulsive to read, so unique and fresh like nothing I’ve read before. What a talented writer, can’t wait to see what he does next!
PS it’s also going straight to the top of my favourite book title/cover list cus YES.
PPS can’t believe I found this in Waterstones before it’s even released 🤣😭🙏
This was a solid read, but I found myself wanting a little more from it.
The premise is interesting, and I appreciated what the novel was trying to explore. Unfortunately, I never became invested in the characters. They felt pretty one-dimensional to me and because of that the emotional moments didn't really land. I've just read and watched so many gangster stories that I think my expectations are always going to be extremely high, and this just felt pretty basic for the genre.
That said, it's very readable, and I can definitely understand why it will resonate with many readers. It just didn't leave as lasting of an impression on me as I expected.
Thank you to NetGalley for my advanced digital arc.
Tony is finally back in his hometown after spending five years away to stay out of the mess and heat he created by burying a knife in someone. Things are quite how he left it—his mentor is dead. His best friend has gone clean and escaped the gang life to raise his daughter. Despite the changes, Tony goes looking for the same old work and gets himself a job beneath a notorious gang boss. His new job places him at the side of Flute Walsh, a quiet boy from school that’s grown into something large and violent. But proving himself to his new boss is no easy feat with his own baggage coming back to haunt him, and his mess of feelings for Flute that can’t go ignored.
I was excited to jump into this book about Irish gangs with queer main characters. The narrative was fast paced, which helped stumble into the story, but in the end, it felt a little rushed. Between Tony’s history and feelings, including the complications that come with Darren (Flute) and Fanny, plot points and moments felt glossed over, and I wish the narrative could have either lingered or fleshed things out a bit more. However, it didn’t kill the story because it also added to the violence and suffocation that permeates Tony’s life. While it wasn’t my favorite, I’m still happy to have read this one.
All Them Dogs is pure voltage. No warm-up, no easing in—it grabs you by the collar and drags you straight into Wardy’s world.
Tony Ward comes back to Dublin thinking he can slip back into something familiar. He can’t. The old crew feels off, the stakes are higher, and before long he’s pulled into something he can’t outrun. What starts as a return turns into a slow spiral—tight, tense, and heading somewhere you know won’t end clean.
Wardy’s voice is what makes this book hit. Raw, funny in a dark way, and written in Irish slang that might throw some people—but for me, it locked everything in. It puts you right inside his head. You’re not just watching decisions unfold, you’re feeling them.
Yeah, there’s violence. There’s crime. But that’s not really the point. Underneath it, this book is digging into loyalty, class, masculinity, and that quiet pressure of who you’re expected to be—by family, by where you’re from, by the people around you. And somehow, in the middle of all that, there’s a love story that sneaks up on you!
It moves fast, but never feels shallow. Every relationship—especially with Flute—has weight. Complicated, messy, real.
By the time it hits the final stretch, it’s relentless. Bleak, intense, and completely gripping.
Reads like a darker, sharper episode of The Sopranos—but with its own voice, its own rhythm, and way more heart than you expect going in.
Oh this book put me through the ringer in every way possible. Hauntingly twisted, achingly beautiful, there is nothing about this book that doesn't belong precisely where it is. Tony is a character that is not only real and realistic but tragic in his arc, in his ability to feel so much but so little. Philly's presence haunts the narrative, defines it. Darren and Fanny, the rage and pain that is born of the betrayals Tony brings to light. The casual insertion of nontraditional queer dynamics. The realizations that occur throughout this novel, the layers of careful plotting and planning, the intricacies that result in such a heart poundingly true to the characters themselves ending..... I was astonished and devastated. Stunning work. I cannot recommend highly enough.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
i'll be honest, not sure how anyone could finish this and give it less than 4+ stars. i do understand how someone could dnf this tho, it is perhaps too grimy for some people taste.
All Them Dogs by Djamel White Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4 stars
All Them Dogs was a really strong read that pulled me in with its raw emotion and realistic characters. The writing feels honest and unfiltered in a way that makes the story feel authentic, and I found myself getting attached to the characters pretty quickly. The book does a great job showing complicated relationships, personal struggles, and the ways people try to survive difficult situations. A lot of the dialogue felt natural, which made the emotional moments hit even harder.
What I liked most was how grounded the story felt. It doesn’t try to sugarcoat anything, but there’s still a lot of heart underneath the heavier themes. While the pacing slowed down in a few spots, I was still invested in seeing where the characters would end up. The emotional depth and strong character work made the book memorable for me, and I think readers who enjoy gritty, character-driven stories would really connect with it. Overall, I give it 4 stars for its realism, emotional impact, and unique voice.
Thank you to NetGalley and Riverhead Books for the digital advance reader copy in exchange for my honest review