DARK TIMES’ Bright Prospects

Time being not so much a cruel mistress as a vengeful dominatrix these days, I gave Gene Kerrigan’s (right) nomination for the CWA Gold Dagger only a cursory mention on Monday. It’s worth mentioning again, though, because I think DARK TIMES IN THE CITY is a terrific read – for those who have read and enjoyed LITTLE CRIMINALS and A MIDNIGHT CHOIR, it’s an entirely new gear altogether. Here’s my two cents, in a review for the Sunday Independent (where Gene Kerrigan is a columnist) from last February:

IN one sense, it’s a shame that Gene Kerrigan hails from this parish, because you’re going to think I’m biased when I say that, with DARK TIMES IN THE CITY, he has written one of the finest crime novels set in Ireland.
  Initially the story of Danny Callaghan, a Dublin ex-con who instinctively interferes in a gangland hit and suffers the consequences, DARK TIMES is a novel that gets under the skin of post-boom Ireland. The various settings are for the most part those urban wastelands by-passed by the boom, where people live cheek-by-jowl with the criminal fraternity, and where the notion of law and order is a sick joke.
  And yet, as with Kerrigan’s previous novels, LITTLE CRIMINALS and A MIDNIGHT CHOIR, the issues are not black-and-white, and the lines drawn are not between good and bad, or law and disorder. Kerrigan is more interested in exploring the concept of power, its use and abuse, and how those at the bottom of the pecking order, regardless of which side of the thin blue line they stand, are powerless -- physically, financially and morally -- when confronted with the juggernaut of power corrupted absolutely.
  Written in a terse, economical style studded with nuggets of black humour, the novel is unflinchingly cynical about the cause-and-effect cycle of poverty, mis-education, hopelessness and violence that provides an unending flow of willing volunteers for gangland life.
  Kerrigan the journalist is apparent in the novel’s relevance, as three or four narrative strands that could easily have jumped off yesterday’s front pages coalesce into a splendid page-turner. But it’s Kerrigan the novelist that lifts DARK TIMES above the realms of the conventional crime novel, with his detailed and often poignant depiction of the truth behind the headlines.
  His characters are never ‘scum’ or ‘thugs’; they don’t labour under ridiculous nicknames; they’re fully-rounded individuals who can tug on your heart-strings on one page, and force a man to dig his own grave on the next.
  Cruelly authentic, the novel refuses the simplistic pieties of either the genre’s form or society’s wishful thinking. DARK TIMES IN THE CITY is a very fine crime novel, but it’s also one of the very few novels of any stripe to hold up a mirror to the dark heart of modern Ireland’s boom-and-bust.

  So there you have it. For an appetite-whetting Chapter One, clickety-click here …

Nobody Move, This Is A Review: LITTLE CRIMINALS by Gene Kerrigan

Once in a while you come across a book that delivers a blow to the guts, and very occasionally a kick to the arse as well. Gene Kerrigan’s LITTLE CRIMINALS is such a book.
  The story revolves around a gang of Dublin low-lives led by Frankie Crowe. Frankie, loving father, estranged husband and second division crim, has had enough of playing in the lower leagues. He’s served his apprenticeship and taken his share of licks in the service of others. Crowe, the hard-nosed leader, dominant, assertive and cruel, recruits Brendan, Dolly and Martin to pull the job off. With a lot of ambition, a ruthless streak and a plan, he’s gonna ride the Celtic Tiger get what he’s due and move up in the world.
  Justin Kennedy has some of what Frankie wants – a loving wife, an understanding girlfriend, a successful career with the big house and the bank balance to suit. A man sure of his place in the world and with a bright future ahead of Brioni suits and his double chin featuring in the society pages of the papers at the latest Dublin charity fundraiser. He’s someone who is definitely on the up and up, but Justin may come to regret hitting Ireland’s ‘Top Fifty’ rich list …
  LITTLE CRIMINALS tells the story of when their paths cross. Frankie, with his crew and his plan for a kidnap, with or without the approval of Dublin’s top gangster, enters Justin’s life and things will never be the same for either or the others dragged into the maelstrom. There’s an inevitability, as the kidnap unfolds, that few will emerge unscathed or damaged, and Kerrigan conveys the pain convincingly and makes you care.
The story unfolds at pace and the author’s skilful storytelling had me hooked. I’ve rarely read a book that has me turning the pages to reach the conclusion swiftly, whilst at the same time regretting the approach of the last page.
  One of the most enjoyable facets was the depth Kerrigan lent to the minor players that populate the tale, no Lowry-like sketching here. One such character, Sean Willie Costello, an object of ridicule in the early part of the book, stayed in my memory long after I’d finished the final page. Sean, a simple kindly man more at home in the Ireland of yesteryear, reminds us of what we’re losing as Ireland hurtles at full-speed to embrace the economic boom and satisfy the needs of the want-it-now generation.
  I’m led to believe that Kerrigan’s second fictional offering THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR is even more enjoyable. I’ll be greatly surprised but highly delighted if he has managed to raise the level of the bar any higher than this superb modern classic. Can’t wait to find out, though. – Colman Keane

Books Of The Year # 2: THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR by Gene Kerrigan

Being the continuing stooooooory of our ‘2007 Round-Up Of Books Wot My Friends Wrote’ compilation to fill a gap between some interesting stuff. To wit:

THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR, by Gene Kerrigan.
This is a wonderful book, superbly well written. The promise of Kerrigan’s previous book, LITTLE CRIMINALS, is more than fulfilled in this elegiac novel of corruption in Ireland. The book begins by describing various apparently unconnected events; one in Galway, where Garda Joe Mills is called on to try to stop a desperate man jumping from a pub roof; and a couple of others in Dublin, where Detective Inspector Harry Synnott investigates a rape accusation made against the son of a rich local lawyer, where a desperate woman threatens to stab a tourist with a syringe full of blood for cash, and where businessman Joshua Boyce is planning a raid on a jeweller’s shop. As these stories play out, weaving in and out of each other, corruption small and large is all-pervasive. Whether trapped in poverty, addicted to drugs, desperate to keep a family together or wanting to preserve a pleasant lifestyle, everyone is on the take, selling each other out, hiding unsavoury truths or aiming to stay on top of the organised crime heap. Almost the only character with integrity is Harry, who has been moved from several police stations previously because he has blown the whistle on past cases of police “stitch-ups”, much to the disgust of many of his erstwhile and present colleagues. But is all what it seems? Is Harry really a hero, or is he part of the tapestry of deceit that threads through the narrative? The answers to these questions become clearer after he meets up with John Grace, a main character in Kerrigan’s previous book, LITTLE CRIMINALS. Grace is taking early retirement and goes through his files of old cases with Harry. In this scene, we begin to get the true picture of Harry’s moral perspective. Remembering his old friend, a priest, one night, “Synnott listened to the city sounds, the chugging noise of traffic mixed in with occasional catcalls and burst of laughter. As he drifted towards sleep, individual voices, each with its own energy and purpose, blended into a muffled chorus, a refrain both solemn and threatening.” I loved everything about this book. THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR is truly bleak, at times violent and disturbing, but always brilliant. The way in which the plots overlap and sometimes merge in a horridly inevitable cause and effect is masterly. Although I applaud the lack of sentimentality, I was glad that the reader is left with a spark of optimism in the shape of at least two police officers who know how to do the right thing.- Maxine Clarke

This review was first published on Euro Crime. Maxine Clarke blogs at Petrona.

Captain Kirkus Boldly Goes

By way of Maxine Clarke's very funky Petrona blog comes news of the influential Kirkus Reviews ’07 First Fiction Spotlight, aka ‘Promising Debuts From Important New Voices’. Gene Kerrigan gets the hup-ya for The Midnight Choir, the follow-up to Little Criminals being his debut in the States: “Kerrigan has crafted an incisive portrait of contemporary Ireland through the matter-of-fact perspectives of officers on its legendary police force, the Gardai.” Which is nicer than nice … Meanwhile, two children’s authors get the big bump from Captain Kirkus. Eoin McNamee’s The Navigator is described as “… a crafty first piece of young-adult fiction …” while Derek Landy (see more down below somewhere) is the rave du jour: “Skulduggery Pleasant, his smart, stylish young-adult debut novel, has both substance and velocity, giving the story – a modern-day tale of sorcery, murder and menace, with a couple of sharp-tongued leading characters – a frightful excitement.” Okay – but yon Landy still isn’t dating Nicole Kidman, right?