Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.97 AVERAGE
3.97 AVERAGE
I laughed out loud while reading this but spent some pages blinking back tears. Seeing the struggles through the eyes of this child really got me emotional and I’d read this again for sure. This book really is a gem.
I'm not generally a big fan of those "tragic childhood memoirs", but I actually really enjoyed this. I think a lot of it was because the author and I are really close in age, so I could relate to a lot of the cultural references (not least those aligned with Maggie) - but mostly because he is an exceptional story teller. I'm now going to seek out some of his fictional books.
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
One of my favourite memoirs!
I really enjoyed the writing styles, pacing and structure. Having a quote from Margret Thatcher at the start of every chapter really made Barr's connection to her feel real and honest. The style made us feel like we were growing up with Barr. Each chapter felt like a milestone of Barr's life. Different themes felt touchy and reflective. All themes felt row but true and still reflective, you could tell Barr spend time reflecting on his life. This memoir deeply touched me for many reasons. The way people were written in felt so true to the age, I related to the teenager view on the world and on the people around us. The ending was wonderful, even perfect, touching and deep. I am overjoyed I have read this memoir, I have learnt so much about myself through reading this memoir. I am excited to pick this up again later in life when my experiences will bring even more insight.
I really enjoyed the writing styles, pacing and structure. Having a quote from Margret Thatcher at the start of every chapter really made Barr's connection to her feel real and honest. The style made us feel like we were growing up with Barr. Each chapter felt like a milestone of Barr's life. Different themes felt touchy and reflective. All themes felt row but true and still reflective, you could tell Barr spend time reflecting on his life. This memoir deeply touched me for many reasons. The way people were written in felt so true to the age, I related to the teenager view on the world and on the people around us. The ending was wonderful, even perfect, touching and deep. I am overjoyed I have read this memoir, I have learnt so much about myself through reading this memoir. I am excited to pick this up again later in life when my experiences will bring even more insight.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Adult/minor relationship, Alcoholism, Bullying, Child abuse, Death, Emotional abuse, Homophobia, Infidelity, Mental illness, Panic attacks/disorders, Pedophilia, Physical abuse, Self harm, Sexual assault, Sexual content, Sexual violence, Suicide, Toxic relationship, Violence, Medical content, Suicide attempt, Abandonment, Alcohol
Moderate: Body horror, Blood
Minor: Animal death
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
finished this book this morning, it was a brilliant read.
This book is well-written, a quick and easy read, and the conceit of prefacing each chapter with a Thatcher quote is clever. It has overwhelmingly positive reviews, but for me it struck a few false notes. One, Damian undoubtedly had a difficult childhood and well done to him for surviving and prospering. But there were times when it really seemed too over the top to be true. Two, the subtext is that thanks to Margaret Thatcher's emphasis on self-reliance/looking after number one, Damian overcame his upbringing and got what he wanted: a career in journalism. Well, to me it looked as if he achieved it because of caring and committed teachers and a mysterious benefactor. Finally, I was really not impressed with the casual misogyny with which he dismisses Jacqueline,"Slattery the Slag", for behaviour no worse than his own and his male friends'. So three stars.
Before reading Maggie and Me, my favourite book this year was Bear Grylls' memoir, featuring two SAS selection procedures and an often oxygen-starved climb of Mount Everest. While Damian Barr comes from a completely different background from Eton-educated, MP's son, Grylls, his life story shares similar elements of survival. Through chapter headings and in the Acknowledgements, Barr gives some of the credit for this to the eponymous Margaret Thatcher. But the chapters themselves reveal that much comes down to Barr's positive attitude and belief in himself.
Growing up in poverty near Motherwell in the 1980s and '90s, Barr endured a broken home, abuse, neglect, homophobic bullying, as well as the misery of suffering asthma in the environs of a dying steelworks and a series of overcrowded, smoke-filled homes. Written without self-pity, often with the genuine perplexity of a child and funny enough to make me laugh out loud, this is definitely not a misery memoir. Barr's use of socio-cultural references (Artex wallpaper, Ski Yoghurt, scrunchies, Carrie, school recorders in a jar of Milton's sterilising fluid . . . ) will resonate with anyone who grew up in the '80s and '90s, and transported me straight into the poorly heated and often terrifying homes of his childhood.
Unsurprisingly, for the memoir of a successful writer, journalist and literary salon founder, Maggie and Me is full of varied literary references. Besides the support of several teachers and the loving family of a surprise girlfriend, Barr's life was improved hugely by the escape and education provided by books (and his local library). I was delighted that he mentioned the magazine and tape of Gobbolino the Witch's Cat, which I read/listened to a hundred times growing up. Books provided a bonding point for one of the most memorable relationships of the book, that of Barr's handsome, sporty, primary friend, Mark. I won't spoil what happened to Mark, only to say that I'm still crying.
As Barr is only a few months older than me, I related to many parts of his life, such as Friday evenings watching Dynasty, hearing about Margaret Thatcher's resignation at school, Findus lasagne, school milk (there's a handy note at the end on the 'Thatcher, Thatcher, Milk Snatcher' rhyme for anyone, confused like me, who was miserably forced to drink milk at school in the eighties.). Like Bear Grylls' autobiography, this was a book I did not want to end. Like the best books of my childhood, the characters felt like friends and I'm sad to now put them away on the shelf.
Growing up in poverty near Motherwell in the 1980s and '90s, Barr endured a broken home, abuse, neglect, homophobic bullying, as well as the misery of suffering asthma in the environs of a dying steelworks and a series of overcrowded, smoke-filled homes. Written without self-pity, often with the genuine perplexity of a child and funny enough to make me laugh out loud, this is definitely not a misery memoir. Barr's use of socio-cultural references (Artex wallpaper, Ski Yoghurt, scrunchies, Carrie, school recorders in a jar of Milton's sterilising fluid . . . ) will resonate with anyone who grew up in the '80s and '90s, and transported me straight into the poorly heated and often terrifying homes of his childhood.
Unsurprisingly, for the memoir of a successful writer, journalist and literary salon founder, Maggie and Me is full of varied literary references. Besides the support of several teachers and the loving family of a surprise girlfriend, Barr's life was improved hugely by the escape and education provided by books (and his local library). I was delighted that he mentioned the magazine and tape of Gobbolino the Witch's Cat, which I read/listened to a hundred times growing up. Books provided a bonding point for one of the most memorable relationships of the book, that of Barr's handsome, sporty, primary friend, Mark. I won't spoil what happened to Mark, only to say that I'm still crying.
As Barr is only a few months older than me, I related to many parts of his life, such as Friday evenings watching Dynasty, hearing about Margaret Thatcher's resignation at school, Findus lasagne, school milk (there's a handy note at the end on the 'Thatcher, Thatcher, Milk Snatcher' rhyme for anyone, confused like me, who was miserably forced to drink milk at school in the eighties.). Like Bear Grylls' autobiography, this was a book I did not want to end. Like the best books of my childhood, the characters felt like friends and I'm sad to now put them away on the shelf.
I’ve been meaning to read this for a while, a lot of this echoes my own childhood and growing up in what can sometimes be described as the abject misery of the Thatcher years. But it wasn’t all bad, there were smiles and laughs, there were friends who made it easier. Granny Mac jumped off the page at me, typical of a woman of her generation and if anything like my own granny she would have had a rough surface sheltering a heart of gold.
And my two takeaways from this...I got school milk up until primary 7. Reading the description I had the vile stale smell of the wet area in my nose. And the second....Bennetts. I’ll never forget the hard faced bouncers and the sticky carpets, the notoriously disgusting pints of Tennants and the voguing.
And my two takeaways from this...I got school milk up until primary 7. Reading the description I had the vile stale smell of the wet area in my nose. And the second....Bennetts. I’ll never forget the hard faced bouncers and the sticky carpets, the notoriously disgusting pints of Tennants and the voguing.
dark
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia, Sexual content, Toxic relationship, Violence, Xenophobia, Abandonment