Better Broken than New: A Fragmented Memoir by Lisa St Aubin de Terán (Amaurea Press, £19.95)
A life story this compelling should make for an un-put-downable read. At the age of 16 the author married an exiled Venezuelan (with whom she communicated through phrase books) and moved to an Andean hacienda, after spending two years on the run from Interpol. Even this was not the climax of the memoir. It further involved preparing dinner for a cannibal, fending off attackers in Mozambique and another period on the run, this time from her former husband who had entrapped Lisa St Aubin de Terán and their daughter in a suicide pact. Notwithstanding the allure of stories from the edge, this memoir dragged - not due to the author’s lack of talent but a stubbornness to conform to literary convention that engendered the book a little too “fragmented” for me. Unlike the art of Kitsungi, the book lacked the beautiful golden glue to bind the fragments together.
The Wilderness Way by Anne Madden (One More Chapter, £9.99)
A decade after The Great Famine, a greedy landlord decides he wants better views. He evicts his tenants. This iniquitous act leaves dozens of families destitute, in the dreaded workhouse, prostituting and fighting for Lincoln as mercenaries in the American civil war. What is perhaps most shocking about the historical epic, is that it is based on true events. In Donegal, John Adair’s (the landlord’s real name) Glenveagh Castle still exists and is a popular tourist spot. That the author manages to temper her anger to write a composed, generous story is a credit to her. That said, the compelling narrative could have justified more emotional punch.
The Deep End: A Memoir of Growing Up by Mary Rose Callaghan (Menma Books, €17.50)
In this memoir, the author conquers her mother’s fear of looking back. Born in 1940s north Dublin to two quixotic parents, Callaghan’s childhood was marked by periods of homelessness, handouts, shoplifting and her parents’ descent into alcoholism and mental illness. While Callaghan does not shirk from harsh truths, these childhood events are framed as an adventure rather than loss and grief. Hers was a childhood in which trauma was confronted with optimism. Callaghan’s mother is at the heart of this story. She was a charming, generous woman who never grew up. The prose is unsentimental while also suffused with love. There is a sense that Callaghan has emerged from this childhood at peace with her lot, rendering what could be a traumatic read into one that is rousing.
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