I am astonished at the 5 star reviews for this book. Pay attention to what other readers are saying. I read this book because it was our book club selection of the month. Out of many years in book club, this was the worst book we have read. I am writing this review so others may be spared by the glowing marks of 'professional' reviewers.

It's difficult to describe how rampant the name-dropping was in this book. There were parts of the book in which 10 or more names would appear per page for dozens of pages. I don't care if the names are notable authors, it's boring to read lists of names! This was not writing, this was 'list making'.

The book couldn't hold a theme for more than a couple sentences. (spoilers next)... The author has a miscarriage, which gets just 2 or 3 sentences of attention. The author is raped. Apparently something as life shattering as that gets only a brief mention as well. There are many traumatic and life-changing events that are barely explored in the book, because the look is too busy name-dropping every person she has met.

This memoir should have been exciting, it should have been a great book. What an amazing life she has led, against tragedy and great odds. Yet somehow she manages to make this story sound boring.

An interesting development is the 'Afterward' after the book has ended. It's so well written you can't help but wonder if it was done by the same author? The first 20 pages and the Afterward of this book are great, the 200 pages in the middle are a mess. Do yourself a favor and pay attention to the reviews here. Life is short and there so many great books to read, I regret I'll never get the time back I spent reading this disappointing book.

This is a splendidly written autobiography, unbelievably rich in detail and raw emotion. While other reviewers have ably described her life's journey - from a chaotic household with alcoholic parents to a very good job as TV producer and then columnist - this is also a beautiful and vivid evocation of a changing Ireland. O'Faolain provides the grittiest of portraits, of a stalled society that is emerging from centuries of repression and excessive religiosity to a modern society. She herself embodies much of it, journeying (across class lines) from desperate loneliness (seeking love as a panacea) to a self-empowered feminist writer who has the strength to keep going. It is deep and gets you to reflect on your own predicament, particularly middle age.

Warmly recommended.

Nuala O'Faolain writes reasonably well. She has developed her craft enough to be labeled lucid, although inspired isn't a word I would use. When she writes about the shift in the concept of family that has taken place over her lifetime she can hold my interest. But what she did with whom over the course of her life, without a deeper examination of why, falls more in the category of vaccuous gossip, and won't hold any serious reader's interest.

Most disappointing of all is the absence of the story that Nuala can't relate, the one she has yet to understand herself. Ms. O'Faolain tells us all about her upbringing as a child of alcoholics, complete with a horrific description of seeing her mother dead drunk on the floor of her home. She even laments the alcoholic demise and early death of her younger brother. But she never admits to alcoholism herself despite a book-long description of irrefutable symptoms. Aside from a borderline flippant remark about what she refers to as a brush with alcoholism and a one-line mention of "addiction" to pills in her younger years, Nuala never conveys any grasp of the nature of the disease that killed her mother and brother, and shortened the life of her father.

For those of us with more than a casual relationship with alcoholism, Ms. O'Faolain's present condition of relative isolation is revealing, as well. It's another predictable phase in the inevitable progression of the disease. She also talks (writes) like a "dry drunk," and has the dysfunctional relationships to prove it. When she writes about retiring alone to read - with a bottle of wine - it is painfully obvious that she is living in denial of her own condition, that she has missed perhaps the most important revelation available to her. As she left us at the end of her book, it appears that the lessons her ancestors paid such a terrible price to impart have escaped Ms. O'Faolain.

Alcoholics and their families and friends are among the many who would want to read "Are You Somebody?," and they want to read it with the hope that an understanding of alcoholism was reached by the author, especially after such a traumatic lifetime experience with the disease. Nuala has yet to absorb that lesson. When she does, the story she can relate will acquire a depth that escapes her present version.

I love the flow of Nuala's writing style. So beautifully written, almost poetic. I find myself reading some passages over many times to contemplate what is being said. She's so insightful to human character.

Nuala O'Faolain has been a waitress, sales clerk and maid; a university lecturer; a television producer, and, most recently, a columnist at The Irish Times. She is Dublin-born and bred, but received an education at Oxford, England, and did tv work in the United Kingdom. She has now returned to Dublin, and, in middle age, written this well-received memoir.

Through most of its history, Ireland has been a tough country for women merely to live, let alone to establish satisfactory lives and careers, and O'Faolain's struggle to do both is at the heart of her memoir. Born one of nine children to an overwhelmed alcoholic mother; and a charming father who chose to spend his time, his money, and his charm elsewhere, leaving his family day-to-day poor, O'Faolain claims to have had the classic hard-scrabble Irish childhood. And from her writings, it seems she did. Though it should be noted that, whatever her father's faults, he was one of Ireland's best-known journalists, under a "nom de plume," as it happened. And it simply does not seem to me that, however hard Ireland was on women -- and we know it was-- it's quite so miraculous that a child of a well-known journo, whether male or female, should rise to become a well-known journo in his or her own turn. It's just not quite as extraordinary as, say, a child of an illiterate day laborer taking that same career path.

Be that as it may, the North Dublin family was poor, and Mam wasn't up to much. Nuala reads books, struggles to get herself an education, discovers boys, pushes at the restrictive boundaries of Catholic Ireland at that time, and finally leaves the country to complete her education and begin her career. She seems to have been expert at finding help in stony ground, always a helpful ability. She seems also to take pride in having been an icebreaker for others as she pushed at those booundaries, as well she might, and she gives us quite an interesting view of talented young people struggling to find the way out of stultifying mid-20th century Dublin. She also seems to have found help in working herself up the career ladder, on her back, as they say. Some pretty heavy names are dropped, some others are held back. But there's no denying a girl can, at a minimum, learn a lot from pillow talk, if she picks the right pillow talkers. And she's certainly not the first or last woman to have gotten that kind of help up the ladder; let anybody who cares to throw the first stone.

Now in lonely middle age, without male companionship or children, O'Faolain's unusually honest about her circumstances. Of course, it seems evident that, as a younger woman, O'Faolain was choosing her male companions for qualities other than the likelihood that they would stick with her for the long haul. Nevertheless, plenty of men and women have looked hard for mates for the long haul, without necessarily finding them. Ways to live must still be found. A lot of people wind up middle-aged and lonely, and can be grateful for the author's honesty.

O'Faolain's trip has taken her some interesting places, and she has always been a keen-eyed observer with a keen pen. At one point, she writes of life in Oxford,"In real life, glamour consisted of my friend and myself getting done up in high heels and tight black skirts. Tucked into the skirts, and anchored by wide elastic belts, we wore men's white nylon shirts with the sleeves rolled up. We had big pointy breasts (old nylons stuffed in our bras), a thick layer of yellowy Pan-Stik on our faces, black lines going up from the corners of our eyes, Vaseline on our shocking-pink lips. In the Crystal Ballroom we two beauties eyed guys with duck's arse haircuts and crepe-soled shoes, while we condescended to dance with awe-struck Malaysian students." It's the next best thing to being there for us readers.

Later she remarks, " I am still acquainted with a lot of the people I knew in Dublin around 1970. But most of them are so different now that the past might never have been. I remember the vulnerable, not always dignified young people who are, now, dignitaries: a judge, a professor, a feared critic, a consultant. In a more confident culture, people like these would reclaim their youth. In North America, people, however powerful they become, are happy to go to reunions to recapture the innocence of youth."

O'Faolain found her way through her years, through alcoholism and severe depression, to become, at least, a person who owns her own life. And, hey, that's not so bad: generations of women all around the world have never achieved it, and still don't.

I found the parts about her family most interesting, and also depressing. Her alcholic mother and wayward father made for a sad upbringing. After about page 80, I scanned the rest of the book.

Nuala O'Faolain's memoir is not particulary easy to read. It starts slowly with the history of her young years and family. It's difficult to read about her parent's relationship and the neglect and desperation felt by the family, especially the nine children. O'Faolain is so honest about her own shortcomings and dysfunctions at first it's hard to like her but how we admire her. She chronicles the historical context of Ireland from the 1950's through the 1990's with special emphasis on the role of women and the enormous societal changes in just the few short years between those decades. It is interesting to read her commentary on the social structure and roles of men and women as it emerged through this time period. The books strength though is not in O'Faolain's ability to chronicle history, that at times is vague with alot of names and places that may not be familiar to those outside of Europe. It is within this historical context that she continually points out her lack of grounding or purpose as a young adult. She floats from job to job--relationship to relationship without much thought to the consequences of her actions. It is not until she reaches a personal crisis at her parents death that she acknowledges the destructive role alcohol plays in her life, the repeating of familial patterns and the aimless way she has existed. It is then that she begins to emerge as a different and more intorspective person. The book begins to take on a different tone and we come to love the person that is Nuala O'Faolain. We have read about her struggles and see her becoming more than the wounds she has suffered in life. It is beautiful. At the end of the story she shares the letters from so many people who were moved and related to her life story. She continues to assert that she did nothing remarkable in writing what for her simply had to come out. But we the reader know that something special has passed here and can only stand back and admire a woman as brave as Nuala O'Faolain who has put down on paper the whole truth that is her life.