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3.67 AVERAGE
3.67 AVERAGE
Just finished Nuala O' Faolain's painful/hopeful exploration of her life. Wow. Each sentence reverberates with living. Each time I picked this book up, I read it as if my life depended on it. That is how it reads--as if you are sitting with O' Faolain and she is speaking to you of her life, going where the thought takes her.
Boring, flat writing. Uninterested in this story. DNFed pretty early in the book because it was so bland.
Not in the mood, I think. Passed it along and may go back to in at another time.
A woman of her time, not afraid to speak her mind or vulnerably tell her story. I read a UK copy that included some of her essays. Had I just read the essays, I would have found the dated and dull but reading her memoir first I could clearly see where her life influenced her opinions. Having had an interesting ride in life myself, she helped me accept some of my own wounds. Also really appreciated her window into the Irish culture of the 50's-70s. Good stuff.
Some people live lives not worth writing about. She is one of them.
dark
informative
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
emotional
hopeful
reflective
fast-paced
Opening chapters here are as moving a paring-back of the Irish mother archetype as I've ever read, a broad stock character critique and a deeply personal reckoning all in one. O'Faolain shows a deep grasp of the wider forces that made and threaten to unmake her. I looked forward to picking this back up all day long.
I didn't like this book, but I feel kind of bad giving it only two stars. Seeing as how it's about self-actualization and all that. Memoirs, by their nature, require in the author a certain level of self-absorption, but Nuala O'Faolain got on my nerves.
I don't remember why anymore, but this book made an impression on me. I vaguely recall a feeling akin to feminist revelation...but alas I cannot put my finger on it. It was so long ago.