zeb- Thanks for putting that on my radar. Memoirs of this sort are wonderful. The life that she lead happens more often than not— But rarely do people write about it. Too often they are swallowed by shame, drugs or alcohol. Or religion. If they find “normality” they hold on by being silent.
My own stint in down-and-out Dublin in 1973-74 woke me from illusions of a world that rewarded the honest hardworking poor. The Catholic Church had not been discovered to be the repressive monster in that has since prove to be ( they passed that referendum a few days ago!) Later l would read Frank McCourt, Nuala O'Faolain , Ruth Park (lrish in the Sydney slums) and others whose memoirs and stories helped me understand my own life and the lives l saw in Ireland. I began to see a world where saints and sinners were wrapped in the same hide. Life’s game favors some over others. from the time they draw breath. Humans think they make the game with rules but l saw a mad scrum where desperate people struggled for survival. I lived with young Irish who didn’t have a chance. My own toe-hold in middle class America was a great advantage that l had never realized til my year in Dublin. And now l see the same goes on here.
It was the beginning of looking at the world through a different lens. I think that any uncomfortable read is a good thing. Always.