Product Description

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #144657 in Books
• Published on: 1999-01-15
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 215 pages

Amazon.com
Self-preservation did not come instinctually to Irish journalist Nuala O'Faolain. One of 9 children--her mother had 13 pregnancies in all--she grew up in the 1940s and '50s in a defeated Dublin household. Her reporter father seems to have spent his time and money, and even love, elsewhere--and as the family grew more isolated and unable to cope, alcohol became her mother's only way out. "One of the stories of my life has been the working out in it of her powerful and damaging example in everything," the author admits, "Nothing mattered to her except passion." Some of O'Faolain's siblings emphatically didn't make it, but she was lucky to find refuge in books. They have been a defense, a comfort, and a delight.

Does her memoir then follow the standard rags-to-self-acceptance trajectory? Are you wondering if perhaps you can give it a miss, and in fact send the entire genre on a well-deserved vacation? Don't. Are You Somebody (the title unaccountably lost a question mark somewhere between the Irish and American editions) offers a wrenching account of childhood and a highly provocative take on the sexual and professional situation of Irish women. Though literature made O'Faolain, the male-dominated literary life and industry certainly didn't, and she now gives it more than a few body blows. It was a world in which writing and drink mattered far more than women: "The 'literary Dublin' I saw lied to women as a matter of course and conspired against the demands of wives and mistresses.... Women either had to make no demands, and be liked, or be much larger than life, and feared."

Irish women didn't seem to know to look for, let alone demand, equality. O'Faolain miraculously avoided pregnancy; but others were not so blessed. "Lives were ruined at that time, thousands and thousands of them, quite casually.... They were hotly pursued, and half longed to yield, but they were not able to defend themselves against pregnancy, and they were destroyed if they got pregnant." For all her energy and ambition and good fortune (and she needed this trio to jump her family's "sinking ship" and avoid getting pregnant), O'Faolain fell for the cant that she must marry, have children, and serve. Some will be initially shocked by her assertion that she was lucky never to have had a child. "Childbearing, along with bad education, relationships that managed to be simultaneously all-absorbing and rewarding, and financial dependence--these were the enemies of promise. But that's not why I'm glad; I didn't think of myself as having promise. I'm glad because under the old system it was so easy to rear children badly. The child wouldn't have properly survived." Yet the '70s enabled her to break out of the assumptions and realities of Irish women's lives, not to mention her yearning to be like "the troubled, rich, English upper-class people in books."

At the end of her memoir, O'Faolain knows she finally is, in fact, somebody. Still, those who don't recognize her see her only as a single, middle-aged woman. Like children, such individuals "aren't supposed to kick up." Thanks to this bracing book, the author gets to permanently do so. The writing exercise has answered some of her questions and some of her fears, but O'Faolain is too honest not to admit that for others there is no response or cure. She leaves us wanting to know more about her life but grateful that she has allowed us in.

From Library Journal
Irish Times columnist O'Faolain seeks to understand the events of her life by baring her soul to the world in a memoir of her experiences with love and loneliness and her journey of self-discovery. This autobiography is unlike most others in that O'Faolain's frank and open examination speaks to both American and European audiences. Transcending her rural Irish childhood (one of nine children, an alcoholic mother, and a philandering father), she tries to find purpose through reading, education, and a career rather than the traditional life of wife and mother. Despite winning scholarships to University College, Dublin; the University of Hull; and, finally, Oxford University, she drifts in and out of relationships, believing that her salvation will come with marriage and motherhood. We travel with her through the intellectual scene in Dublin during the 1950s and the yet traditional Oxford of the 1960s, against the backdrop of the rising feminist movement. O'Faolain is simply swept along, asserting herself but not really knowing why or to what end. Alcoholism and depression take their toll, but she fights her way back. The author speaks of events and predicaments that are universal: the need for purpose in life; the search for satisfaction; and the desire we all have to be somebody. Donada Peters's Irish brogue adds just the right air of authenticity to make this a rich and wonderful listening experience. Poignantly honest and profoundly memorable, this program is highly recommended for all public and academic libraries.AGloria Maxwell, Penn Valley Community Coll., Kansas City, MO
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

The New York Times Book Review, Zoë Heller
Before the stampede away from the autobiography section in the bookstore begins, this book has to be read.

Customer Reviews

Every Woman Should Read This Book
This is a book every woman should read. It is an excellent historical account of the difference between generations of families. It is a deep revelation about family relationships.
For young women, especially, who have lives not so different from their mothers should make this a must read. It is a very personal history of what it was like to live through the women's movement.

What's all the fuss.
I heard an interview with the author and decided she was quite an interesting individual. Although this book has received many over-the-top reviews, I was disappointed. The book has sections which are long lists of people she met, worked with, or admired. But often she provides no information about the individual. She clearly accomplished a great deal but how? There is a tone of self-pity throughout the text and she seems loathe to give people, including herself, credit for their achievements. Very Irish that way.

joyless
This was a slow read for me; I had to force myself to pick it up each night. I found the writing fragmented with references to many people (particularly writers) I had never heard of. The subtitle "An accidental memoir" is fitting becomes the book seems to be constructed of disjoint notes and memories (many involving drinking). A recurring theme is Faolain's disappointment with her parents' behavior (particularly her mother's alcoholism). I felt that Faolain was a bit self pitying (which she acknowledges in the book). It wasn't until the end when she discusses her surprise at being alone and her loneliness that I became more engaged in her story. Until that point, Faolain's story was a whirlwind of working, drinking, and traveling interwoven with criticisms of her parents. I am surprised that this book was a best seller and I wonder what I am missing.