“I have always hated war and am by nature and philosophy a pacifist, but it is the English who are forcing war on us, and the first principle of war is to kill the enemy”. This is a quote from Maud Gonne, but it could perfectly well have been from Rose Dungdale. Though separated by almost a century, their lives bear some similarities: both had English origins, both renounced them and turned to the Irish Republican cause, and both have been inspirations for male writers. Gonne was Yeats’s muse, the inspiration behind several plays and poems by the famous Irish writer. Rose Dungdale, meanwhile, has been the inspiration for Sean O’Driscoll’s Heiress, Rebel, Vigilante, Bomber.
Although, unlike Yeats, O’Driscoll has not devoted other works to Dungdale, he has written about the IRA before. His first book, The Accidental Spy, is the story of an American truck driver who became a spy for the FBI and MI5 and infiltrated the terrorist organisation, eventually sending one of its leaders to prison. In Heiress, Rebel, Vigilante, Bomber, the focus is on Rose Dungdale, a British heiress who ended up in the IRA and was involved in robberies, bombings and arm development. Rose’s story is familiar to Irish and British alike, at least the criminal activity part of it. In his work, O’Driscoll also recounts her life before and after the IRA, in an exhaustive portrait in which his meticulous research is evident.
In “Note on sources”, the author recounts this research process, which has been praised by critics. The journalist states that “the most important sources for this book are new” and gives an overview of the testimonial and documentary sources that underpin this work and all the facts and details recounted in it. However, at times O’Driscoll’s meticulousness works against him, slowing the pace of the book and making it a somewhat ponderous read. The journalist gets lost in the background and activities of secondary characters who do not reappear and have little relevance to Dungdale’s life or the events being narrated. This makes it difficult to engage with her story, something that’s also helped by the fact that the protagonist’s voice is barely present until 100 pages into the story. Nonetheless, this decision makes some sense, as we begin to hear Rose precisely when she starts to be at the “centre of things”, as she puts it. That is, after her participation in the Strabane bombing, when she feels that “I was really doing as I said I would do”.
At this point the author also uses the first person for the first time, a device that not only catches the reader by surprise, taking them slightly out of the narrative, but also raises some interesting questions. The Dungdale case is a sensitive one because of its direct link to IRA terrorism. O’Driscoll does a good job of staying away from moral judgments, letting the facts and the characters do the talking and leaving the readers to draw their own conclusions – in other words, applying the principles of journalism. But by including the first person, especially when referring to his conversations with Rose, we are reminded that there is a person with his own ideas and opinions behind this book, making us question the distance O’Driscoll claims to have maintained: “This book presents no prescription or diagnosis, but I hope it offers insights into a complex personality”.
With his work, O’Driscoll wants to present the “two sides of Rose, the extraordinarily generous and the disturbingly brutal”. We read about a Rose who has no problem bombing or developing explosives, or who claims that certain people deserve their suffering, but who at the same time provides money and asylum to those in need and is warm and generous to those closest to her. Heiress, Rebel, Vigilante, Bomber is the story of a very compelling woman, but told in a style that fails to live up to its protagonist. Although the accuracy and veracity of the journalist are remarkable, it is missing a more human face capable of maintaining the narrative pulse, a certain emotional touch that could only be achieved with a more literary style.
The book’s dryness is already announced by the title, a succession of nouns that leaves no room for the imagination. If, like me, anyone finds the title difficult to remember, it can be noted that the order of these four words corresponds to the structure of the book. Thus, in the first quarter of the book O’Driscoll retells Dungdale’s life as a heiress, her childhood, her participation in the last debutante ball, and her studies and relationships at Oxford. There, together with a classmate, Rose disguised herself as a man and attended the Oxford Union, “breaking the rule of only men of nearly 140 years” and initiating her rebel phase, which was to be accentuated when she met the “revolutionary socialist” Walter Heaton, who became her lover. In this second phase, as well as distributing her generous fortune among the poor of Tottenham, she robbed her family to finance the IRA’s activities. Following Heaton’s imprisonment for this theft, Rose travelled to Ireland, where she became directly involved with the terrorist group. Along with Eddie Gallagher, she participated in two notorious terrorist attacks: the bombing of an RUC station in Strabane and the theft of 19 Old Master paintings from Beit’s state. Dungdale was arrested days later and sentenced to nine years in prison. There, she gave birth to her only son, Ruairí.
These are the best-known facts of Rose Dungdale’s life, but O’Driscoll delves deeper into the story of the revolutionary heiress in the second half of the book. After her release from prison, Rose gets involved in the IRA’s vigilante drug movement in Dublin. And, after meeting Jim Monaghan, who is still her partner nowadays, she becomes a central figure in the development of weapons and explosives.
Heiress, rebel, vigilante and bomber. These are the faces of the multilayered Rose, though at times they seem to mirror those of her male lovers: she becomes involved in the socialist cause with the revolutionary Wally; radicalises with the dangerous Eddie; and engages in bomb development with the intellectual Jim. This apparent tendency to associate with and “follow” the activities of her partners slightly tarnishes her character.
In any case, O’Driscoll succeeds in drawing us into the radical political scene of Ireland in the second half of the 20th century by introducing us to one of the figures who made up this important chapter in Irish history – as he did in his previous book. The journalist has expressed his interest in completing “an IRA trilogy of the Troubles because I feel that generation are dying off and getting too old to tell their story. It’s a last chance to tell these stories before they disappear”. We now have to wait to see what fascinating personality awaits us in his next work.