Local Author Writes Men’s Health Crime Thriller by Ethan Weber

Writer Gerry Mullins’ striking new book is set in Dublin 8, and features gang violence, drug trafficking, and an insightful look at men’s issues.

by Ethan Webber

Gerry Mullins and Ethan discuss testosterone, and what it means to be “manly”. Photo by Anne Woetzel

When I first moved to Dublin 8, I had the immediate impression that it was a quiet, sleepy area. There seemed to be none of the excitement or intrigue one would commonly associate with urban neighborhoods. One local author, however, who has lived in Dublin 8 for 16 years, sees our area quite differently.

Gerry Mullins wrote a book published in 2020, called Testosterone Dublin 8. His novel tells the fictional story of Jimmy Fyffe, whose life and career begin to fall apart as he suffers from having low levels of testosterone. After some testosterone boosting treatments, Jimmy becomes a commanding alpha male, and begins down the path of a drug kingpin, dealing cocaine and violently feuding with gangs and police. The story takes place within Dublin 8, and deals with a range of themes: mental health issues, crime, drug use, and men’s health.

Upon discovering this book, I was fascinated. Hoping to have a conversation with the author, I reached out to Liberties Press, and was soon on my way to interview Gerry and learn his story.

I arrived at Gerry’s home, where he issued me a quick, friendly greeting, and brought me inside. As my photographer and I set up for the interview, Gerry asked us about where we came from, cracked jokes, told us about his honeymoon in Germany, and time spent living in San Francisco working in finance. Lively, attentive, and visibly in very good shape, Gerry Mullins is the last man you would look at and think “low testosterone”.

However, his story would soon prove how far he had come. Together, we sat at a table in his spacious, sunlit living room to discuss the book, and the life of the man behind it.

“I was flabby, tired, and depressed.”, Gerry explains, resting his chin in his hand as he speaks. Gerry had gotten the idea to write a story centered around a man’s struggle with low testos-

terone, because he had lived it. After looking around, he found that books rarely ever talked about the issue, and if they did, they were either medical manuals, or pop psychology. Sitting with Gerry, I got the idea that psychological literature just wasn’t his beat. “Ever hear of gynecomastia? It’s when men get tits!”

To treat his condition, Gerry was prescribed testosterone, and began to exercise and diet.

“Right now, I get testosterone injections, but at the time it came in a gel, like a toothpaste tube. Rather than hiding it, I’d put it on after a workout at the gym, with the tube right there. I always wondered if any other men would come to talk to me about it, none ever did.” Gerry began to see that not only were writers reluctant to discuss low testosterone, but men were too. No ordinary man wanted to even consider that they may have low testosterone, thinking it would mean they are less of a man. When I asked Gerry what he would want readers to take away from his book as a central message, he simply said,

I’m hoping men that read my book and have similar issues will ring their GP. At the time, I believed this sort of thing for men was revolutionary. Honest to God revolutionary.

In Testosterone Dublin 8, testosterone serves as a literary gateway to an important question: what does it mean to be a man? Gerry states, “We’ve been presented with this idea of a man through our movies and books, which is that he’s one step away from a caveman. Man, go to work! Man eats meat! Man fight! He’s a gorilla with a suit on.” In the book, Jimmy Fyffe learns that he had taken his family relationships for granted, and should have given more effort to his duties as a father and husband. Gerry expressed to me that, rather than embracing the aggressive image society has of males, men should understand that being a strong man means having care for others, passions, and sensitivity. He told me he has hope that future generations of young men will buck the stereotypes. “Now, it seems that men are encouraged to lead a less gorilla-like life, but we still have a long way to go. The argument has always been that testosterone drives all of that aggression, but being a caring, sensitive man doesn’t mean you lack testosterone. High testosterone doesn’t mean being a monster.”

The criminal element of Testosterone Dublin 8 was inspired by a 2008 incident, when a boat transporting €440 million worth of cocaine sank off the coast of Cork. While reading this story, Gerry wondered about what it would be like for an ordinary person to stumble across a fortune in illegal goods, and how the decision of whether to capitalise on an illegal opportunity to get rich would challenge their morals, and change their life. A theme which is deeply evident in the story, as Jimmy Fyffe finds himself at his lowest point before deciding to deal cocaine. A choice which makes him loads of money, and effectively destroys his life as he knows it. Gerry chose to set his story in Dublin 8 because of his fascination with the local area, and the major transformation which it’s going through, not unlike the transformation of the main character on testosterone. “I find the area very interesting. It’s an area that’s undergoing gentrification, and this gives you two groups of people. You have the locals, who are more working class, have more hardships and sometimes have this connection to crime. Then you have the blow-ins, these more middle class or wealthy people who move in, turn their noses up at the locals, and change the things about the area that they’ve known all their lives.”

Before Testosterone Dublin 8, Gerry Mullins was the author for the historical photobook Dorothea Lange’s Ireland, and wrote Dublin Nazi No. 1, a biography on the former Director of the National Museum of Ireland. These days, Gerry is the presenter for D8 Live, a live talk show in Rialto that hosts local musicians, creatives and business owners as guests.

While not wanting to give too much away, Gerry did mention that he intends to write more stories and biographies in the future with a focus on Dublin 8. As we ended our interview, something Gerry had said really stuck with me: “What is a man? Does he just kick up and fight? Or is a man someone who can be caring, nurturing and loving? Can he be something more?”