audiobooks

Enthusiastic Recommend: Almost There by Nuala O'Faolain
This is a memoir of six years in the life of a woman in her 60s. It's her story of struggling with her past, with the long series of things that shaped her into something that she decided she did not want to be. So she changed. O'Faolain's life is nothing like mine - not even remotely like mine. She's Irish. She suffered as a child from the neglect of a drunken mother. She's never been married, has no children. She earned her living being a journalist. She's not really athletic, and that doesn't bug her. One of the few things we have in common is that we both love dogs. But she also goes for cats, which I can take or leave. And yet so much of what she wrote resonated, spoke to me, got me to say right out loud, "Yea, wow, that's it." It's a wonderful read for anyone who thinks it's too late for ... well, for anything. O'Faolain shows that it's never too late. We've all suffered, physically and emotionally. Some more than others, Nuala more than I. But she demonstrates that there is always a way to strike out on a different path if you are willing to work at it. And though it's not easy, there's progress, not always in a hurriedly straight line, but it's there and it's substantial.

This is the first book I have read by author Nuala O'Faolain, but it far from the first autobiographical piece I've read. The latter part of my opening comment allows me to state without reservation that I have never read a more brutally and painfully candid work. Using the word beautiful may seem contradictory but it is her unstinting honesty about everyone, herself most of all, that makes this such a remarkable memoir. I don't think I would have gotten through the book if she had only been candid about everyone except herself. Her willingness to place herself, fears, regrets and anger out on view for the world to read is nothing short of remarkable.

This book covers about 6 years from her first memoir which apparently had the same sort of candor although she did offer it to people who were included prior to its publication. How much she may have changed is not entirely clear, but judging by what was included here I doubt she changed very much.

The book is also a philosophical exercise by a woman who has seen the majority of her life and is brutally honest about what she is and is not willing to do with the balance of the 16 and three-quarter years the actuarial tables allot to her. Initially the most startling part of the book was toward the end when she spoke of the 8 year old daughter of her partner. At first I was put off, and then my reaction changed completely. If there has ever been a case of the truth hurts, and the truth will set you free, in a manner of speaking, this lady has written it.

I don't know how many males will read this book but they should. Much of what she discusses is not bounded by gender, and when there are gender specific issues there are plenty of issues that males can plug in. This is not an easy book to read but when I finally finished I found myself hoping for all the best for Ms. O'Faolain and anyone else who has experienced the pain she has. If we all could view our lives with such honesty, my guess is the level of pain in most lives would be greatly diminished.

Ms. Nuala O'Faolain, I wish you all the best!

Nuala O'Faolain is completely frank and honest without sacrificing elegant prose... sa memoirist unconcerned with image. Her experiences take on a universal quality--I'm not a fifty-something Irish writer whose parents were miserable together (one cold, the other alcoholic) when not being charming. Yet in her descriptions of fear, loneliness, hope I find myself feeling singing "she's killing me softly with her song."

This is no feel-good "How I overcame bad times" memoir in which the heroine is homeless/battered/deathly ill but survives "with a little help from my friends." Nuala recounts successes, mistakes, bad judgement, anger, joy without ever portraying herself as a victim. And the result is that her story lands in your gut.

Few writers would admit worrying about the cat being lonely if she went out for an evening-- they'd be too self-conscious and worry about looking pathetic. Not Nuala. The result is that she wins us over utterly.

This book opens with a great deal more joy than her other books (the wonderful memoir Are You Somebody? and the novel My Dream of You). She recounts with wonder the unexpected success of her memoir and the opportunities it brought her-- the waves of approval from TV talk-show audiences, the trip to New York where she met Frank McCourt, the money. But it didn't ultimately protect her heart from a painful end to a long-standing lesbian relationship, a one-sided affair with a married man, and a troubled relationship with a man she met on line, whose little girl Nuala had to struggle not to resent.

I heard O'Faolain read at Colliseum books New York, and she recounted how in Dublin, everyone criticized her for having had an affair with a married man (who, to be fair, did not ever tell her he was married until very very late in the game) while in America, people were shocked at her attitude to the child. Yet in both, O'Faolain is nothing more than honest. Who hasn't felt jealous and wished they didn't? O'Faolain is never malicious, vindictive or cruel.

She writes with candor about being down-and-out inside, though material circumstances look well. She's an inspiration in every way-- she gives the reader permission to empathize, to say, "yes, it's like that, and she survived, and I can too". You don't have to have a terrible illness or crushing poverty to have legitimate feelings of despair, and O'Faolain is proof that they can be overcome-- with grace.

And her prose is terrific. Simple without being simplistic, somehow she turns a riff on 9/11 to a consideration of voting in Africa.
She's a real writer, and one for the ages-- her main focus is on herself, but her gaze takes on all humanity.