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This is Not About Me
When her mother left her alcoholic father and set up home in a tiny attic room above a doctor’s surgery, Janice Galloway quickly learned how to keep quiet and stay out of the way. Her mother hadn’t expected or wanted another child and Galloway wasn’t allowed to forget that she was a burden. Her much older sister Cora, with her steady stream of boyfriends, her showy fashions, and erratic temperament, never failed to remind her of her insignificance.
Galloway’s Scottish childhood is defined by the intimate details of her environment, where every family member looms close. With startling precision she remembers scenes of domestic life: her mother’s weekly round of washing, the sodden tweed dripping on the line; Cora putting on layers of make up for the Ayrshire night life; learning to write—and control the often rebellious letters; the living quality of her mother’s mangy old fur coat. In these cramped conditions, ignored by her elders, Galloway is a silent observer, carefully and keenly watching the people around her. As her rage grows, she begins to think for herself. Slowly, unexpectedly, she finds her voice. Out of the silent child emerges the girl who will be a writer.
Galloway’s Scottish childhood is defined by the intimate details of her environment, where every family member looms close. With startling precision she remembers scenes of domestic life: her mother’s weekly round of washing, the sodden tweed dripping on the line; Cora putting on layers of make up for the Ayrshire night life; learning to write—and control the often rebellious letters; the living quality of her mother’s mangy old fur coat. In these cramped conditions, ignored by her elders, Galloway is a silent observer, carefully and keenly watching the people around her. As her rage grows, she begins to think for herself. Slowly, unexpectedly, she finds her voice. Out of the silent child emerges the girl who will be a writer.
339 pages, Hardcover
First published April 1, 2010
14 people are currently reading
732 people want to read
About the author
Janice Galloway
49 books139 followersJanice Galloway was born in Ayrshire in 1955 where she worked as a teacher for ten years. Her first novel, The Trick is to keep Breathing, now widely considered to be a contemporary Scottish classic, was published in 1990. It was shortlisted for the Whitbread First Novel, Scottish First Book and Aer Lingus Awards, and won the MIND/Allan Lane Book of the Year. The stage adaptation has been performed at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow, the Du Maurier Theatre, Toronto and the Royal Court in London. Her second book, Blood, shortlisted for the Guardian Fiction Prize, People's Prize and Satire Award, was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her second novel, Foreign Parts, won the McVitie's Prize in 1994. That same year, and for all three books, she was recipient of the E M Forster Award, presented by the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Her story-collection, Where you find it, was published in 1996, followed by a series of collaborative installation texts for sculptor Anne Bevan, published by the Fruitmarket Gallery as Pipelines in 2000. Her only play, Fall, was performed in Edinburgh and Paris in spring, 1998. She was the recipient of a Creative Scotland Award in 2001.
Monster, Janice's opera by Sally Beamish, exploring the life of Mary Shelley, was world premiered by Scottish Opera in February 2002. Her third novel, Clara, based on the tempestuous life of pianist Clara Wieck Schumann, was published by Cape the same year and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Prize (Eurasia category) and the SAC Book of the Year, going on to win the Saltire Book of the Year. It was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year, 2003. Boy book see, a small book of "pieces and poems", also appeared in 2002. In 2003, Janice recorded Clara as Scottish RNIB's first audio book.
Rosengarten, Janice's 2003 collaboration with Anne Bevan exploring obstetric implements and the history of birthing, is now part of the premanent collection of the Hunterian Museum, and is also available as a book.
In 2006, Janice won the Robert Louis Stevenson Award to write at Hotel Chevillon in Grez sur Loing, and in 2007, was the first Scottish receipient of the Jura Writer’s Retreat.
Janice has also worked as a writer in residence for four Scottish prisons and was Times Literary Supplement Research Fellow to the British Library in 1999. Her radio work for the BBC has included the two-part series Life as a Man, a major 7-part series entitled Imagined Lives, In Wordsworth's Footsteps and Chopin’s Scottish Swansong.
Monster, Janice's opera by Sally Beamish, exploring the life of Mary Shelley, was world premiered by Scottish Opera in February 2002. Her third novel, Clara, based on the tempestuous life of pianist Clara Wieck Schumann, was published by Cape the same year and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Prize (Eurasia category) and the SAC Book of the Year, going on to win the Saltire Book of the Year. It was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year, 2003. Boy book see, a small book of "pieces and poems", also appeared in 2002. In 2003, Janice recorded Clara as Scottish RNIB's first audio book.
Rosengarten, Janice's 2003 collaboration with Anne Bevan exploring obstetric implements and the history of birthing, is now part of the premanent collection of the Hunterian Museum, and is also available as a book.
In 2006, Janice won the Robert Louis Stevenson Award to write at Hotel Chevillon in Grez sur Loing, and in 2007, was the first Scottish receipient of the Jura Writer’s Retreat.
Janice has also worked as a writer in residence for four Scottish prisons and was Times Literary Supplement Research Fellow to the British Library in 1999. Her radio work for the BBC has included the two-part series Life as a Man, a major 7-part series entitled Imagined Lives, In Wordsworth's Footsteps and Chopin’s Scottish Swansong.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 56 reviews
November 17, 2009
As the title indicates, this is a book about familial ties and the endless desire to sever them. Galloway takes a conventional childhood in Saltcoats, Ayrshire – absent father, weak-willed mother, domineering sister – and transforms these laboured ideas into original and vital prose, crackling with tension, magic, insight and eye-popping characterisation.
Galloway’s novels have always been ludicrously compelling once inside, if somewhat difficult to pitch to the reader. So instead of flailing around like an octopus on speed attempting to explain what makes this a winner, I’ll say this: it’s special. Banalities become bravura. Boredom becomes brilliance. The humdrum becomes a humdinger. And so on. I recommend this for those seeking to be converted to the (anti-)memoir.
Galloway’s novels have always been ludicrously compelling once inside, if somewhat difficult to pitch to the reader. So instead of flailing around like an octopus on speed attempting to explain what makes this a winner, I’ll say this: it’s special. Banalities become bravura. Boredom becomes brilliance. The humdrum becomes a humdinger. And so on. I recommend this for those seeking to be converted to the (anti-)memoir.
May 30, 2025
i just read the excerpt i pasted in 2011. now its 2025. she is a brilliant , and foreseeing? writer . i give 5 STARS :)
these books just keep pouring down on me. well, there's worse ways to go than a book tsunami, specially if Janice Galloway is the spume:
i read this memoir and i recommend it to all lovers of novels and memoirs, especially scottish ones.
Here is an excerpt from Galloway’s time in kindergarten (Infants 1b in Scottish ) because if you are a Janice Galloway fan YOU KNOW her techniques as a writer, and if you don’t then its really hard to explain, but its compelling and funny. Funny like when your friend is skipping down the sidewalk, but then trips, and hooo booy THAT IS funny, but then you see the huge gash in their knee welling blood all over their shinbone. That kind of funny. So Janice was one of those kids who screamed and cried the whole time during class, nap time, etc etc
…….”They, by which I mean the headmistress, told her [Janice’s mother] I was clingy, anxious, and withdrawn. The words separation anxiety had been bandied. My mother rolled out the phrase now and then, hoping it was a diagnosed condition and therefore not her fault. Separation anxiety. It meant the plan of me shining like a star in Infants 1b had all gone to cock.
They know what they’re talking about, teachers, she’d say, at the end of her tether, It’s like bloody Rosebuds back to haunt me. I’ll never get rid of you.
It got worse. I wouldn’t hold hands readily, was reticent when spoken to and, during a chorus of Old MacDonald, had offered only the words I want to go home when called upon to suggest what the duck said here, there and everywhere. My mother knew that teachers were people to whom apologies, explanations or types of obeisance were due, but she didn’t know what apologies, explanations or types of obeisance were appropriate for this kind of thing. It had never happened before.
My other daughter wasn’t like this, she said. Cora loved the school. She was desperate to get there. This one—she looked at me and sighed—this one’s different.
They commiserated and she chewed her lip, trying not to look weak. Sympathy made her uncomfortable. Somehow, the whole thing passed. It must have, because they put me in charge of the class scissors by February. But it was a rocky start and she took it hard.
Are you going to stop this mummy mummy mummy nonsense? You that’s supposed to be clever? Are you going to try and be a big girl like Alma?
She posted a sweetie into my mouth and took one for herself. By the time we had walked back over the railway brae, sucking had made us calm.
Kitty’s right enough, she said, as we struck out down Argyle Road. Weans will take you over if you don’t watch. You’ll just have to sink or swim.
I didn’t argue. I’d drain her dry if she didn’t get me sorted out. Kitty said that too.
Alma’s good with hair, she said, clacking the sweetie from one side of her mouth to the other. She’ll get on.
It was true. Alma was blonde. She was good with hair, had the top bunk in a real bedroom and still thought Santa was right enough. Alma would get on just fine.
I wish I knew what the hell you were good at, she said. Godknows where you’re headed.
Only one thing was certain: sooner or later I’d get what I got. What happened to you in this life was random. It was sudden, often frightening and always judged. What was true for everybody was true for me: nobody got to pick and choose. That which was not terrifying deserved our gratitude and the rest was a puzzling jumble. Even the terrifying had its own excitements, like walking along the shore wall in the wrong shoes over seaweed. The miracle was that you stayed on at all. That you kept going. Yes indeed, that was the measure of the thing. It was all about hanging on.”
these books just keep pouring down on me. well, there's worse ways to go than a book tsunami, specially if Janice Galloway is the spume:
i read this memoir and i recommend it to all lovers of novels and memoirs, especially scottish ones.
Here is an excerpt from Galloway’s time in kindergarten (Infants 1b in Scottish ) because if you are a Janice Galloway fan YOU KNOW her techniques as a writer, and if you don’t then its really hard to explain, but its compelling and funny. Funny like when your friend is skipping down the sidewalk, but then trips, and hooo booy THAT IS funny, but then you see the huge gash in their knee welling blood all over their shinbone. That kind of funny. So Janice was one of those kids who screamed and cried the whole time during class, nap time, etc etc
…….”They, by which I mean the headmistress, told her [Janice’s mother] I was clingy, anxious, and withdrawn. The words separation anxiety had been bandied. My mother rolled out the phrase now and then, hoping it was a diagnosed condition and therefore not her fault. Separation anxiety. It meant the plan of me shining like a star in Infants 1b had all gone to cock.
They know what they’re talking about, teachers, she’d say, at the end of her tether, It’s like bloody Rosebuds back to haunt me. I’ll never get rid of you.
It got worse. I wouldn’t hold hands readily, was reticent when spoken to and, during a chorus of Old MacDonald, had offered only the words I want to go home when called upon to suggest what the duck said here, there and everywhere. My mother knew that teachers were people to whom apologies, explanations or types of obeisance were due, but she didn’t know what apologies, explanations or types of obeisance were appropriate for this kind of thing. It had never happened before.
My other daughter wasn’t like this, she said. Cora loved the school. She was desperate to get there. This one—she looked at me and sighed—this one’s different.
They commiserated and she chewed her lip, trying not to look weak. Sympathy made her uncomfortable. Somehow, the whole thing passed. It must have, because they put me in charge of the class scissors by February. But it was a rocky start and she took it hard.
Are you going to stop this mummy mummy mummy nonsense? You that’s supposed to be clever? Are you going to try and be a big girl like Alma?
She posted a sweetie into my mouth and took one for herself. By the time we had walked back over the railway brae, sucking had made us calm.
Kitty’s right enough, she said, as we struck out down Argyle Road. Weans will take you over if you don’t watch. You’ll just have to sink or swim.
I didn’t argue. I’d drain her dry if she didn’t get me sorted out. Kitty said that too.
Alma’s good with hair, she said, clacking the sweetie from one side of her mouth to the other. She’ll get on.
It was true. Alma was blonde. She was good with hair, had the top bunk in a real bedroom and still thought Santa was right enough. Alma would get on just fine.
I wish I knew what the hell you were good at, she said. Godknows where you’re headed.
Only one thing was certain: sooner or later I’d get what I got. What happened to you in this life was random. It was sudden, often frightening and always judged. What was true for everybody was true for me: nobody got to pick and choose. That which was not terrifying deserved our gratitude and the rest was a puzzling jumble. Even the terrifying had its own excitements, like walking along the shore wall in the wrong shoes over seaweed. The miracle was that you stayed on at all. That you kept going. Yes indeed, that was the measure of the thing. It was all about hanging on.”
August 20, 2011
My copy was hit by a freak rainstorm when I left it out on the veranda one evening. It swelled to double the size and when the sun-dried approach failed to work, I went for the more radical bake-in-the-oven strategy. This left me with a crinkle-cooked book, which is therefore currently lying under a hundredweight of art books and encyclopaedias. Given the significance of baking and household chores in Janice Galloway's work generally I found this a nice irony.
A very good if not a great read. I loved Galloway's earlier novel The Trick Is to Keep Breathing and when I saw this grabbed it as a good candidate for summer reading, in which it didn't fail me.
As a you man I studied in Scotland, and the dry, lapidary nature of Scots wisdom and Scots humour has stayed with me. In Janice Galloway's hands, this fine razor of a tool serves up sliver after sliver of funny, devastating memories, described in a terse, elegant style.
The back cover assures us that the book is definitely not a misery memoir: never having read one, I've no idea, but it is a very accomplished work, providing an insight into the pretty rough circumstances that shaped a remarkable Scottish writer.
A very good if not a great read. I loved Galloway's earlier novel The Trick Is to Keep Breathing and when I saw this grabbed it as a good candidate for summer reading, in which it didn't fail me.
As a you man I studied in Scotland, and the dry, lapidary nature of Scots wisdom and Scots humour has stayed with me. In Janice Galloway's hands, this fine razor of a tool serves up sliver after sliver of funny, devastating memories, described in a terse, elegant style.
The back cover assures us that the book is definitely not a misery memoir: never having read one, I've no idea, but it is a very accomplished work, providing an insight into the pretty rough circumstances that shaped a remarkable Scottish writer.
February 24, 2017
This is Not About Me was a book group read and from the blurb I imagined Janice Galloway's autobiography might be considered a misery memoir (not my favourite genre), however nothing could be further from the truth. Set in 1950/60s Saltcoats, Scotland, Galloway's description of a hard family life, living with an alcoholic father, ineffectual mother and much older bullying sister, positively teems with character and wit. Told through the eyes of a young Janice, the reader is left as bewildered as the child as to the reasons for the actions taken by the adults who surround her - making this the perfect book for discussion. Quiet, watchful and often afraid, we see the fledgling young writer begin to emerge. Galloway's follow up memoir, All Made Up is now high on my TBR list.
May 15, 2023
Galloway’s memoir writing is as good as her fiction - evocative, she makes the ordinary extraordinary and conveys much more than she says. Her sister Cora (a truly nasty piece of work) is a memorable character
November 7, 2022
Brilliant. Not generally a fan of memoirs butJanice Galloway writes so well. This is a fabulous book.
November 6, 2015
Book club choice, not what I'd normally read. I struggled with it and only got a third of the way through. Its well written and very descriptive. however I find it had to believe that the author could remember her very young childhood memories ie 2yrs old is such detail.
October 9, 2012
I loved this book. Can't wait to read the next volume of her memoirs, All Made Up. It made me want to reread all her fiction, too. A brilliant writer.
May 25, 2020
This was my first ever proper audiobook (had only previously listened to Mary Beard's book which was really a few lectures). And I have been listening to it for months, because audiobooks take hours and hours. I feel that few activities are compatible with listening, because they need to be purely automatic activities not requiring active brain input. That means, for me, using a boring machine at the gym or on a walk. I guess dead time on a train would also work. Having eventually got to the end, I find it quite hard to know what I would have thought of the book if I'd actually read it. Listening to it is such a different experience.
I wanted to read this memoir by Janice Galloway having loved one of her books years ago (The Trick is to Keep Breathing). I am fairly confident I would hate a fiction audiobook read by some celebrity. This was read by the author and I loved her voice. It recounts her pre-teenage years growing up, with little money, in Ayrshire in the 1960s with an alcoholic father, a mother who had Janice late in life, by mistake, and was then saddled with her (and told Janice so), and a much older sister, Cora - glamorous, selfish, and, really, an awful bitch to the "wean". But it is not a bleak memoir, despite that: it's wonderfully brought to life with humour and no self-pity. That was just how things were, and you got on with it, ever-watchful for the moods of the capricious adults around you.
I definitely recommend this if you like memoirs. I am intrigued by what happened next - the book ends when Janice is about 12 - and will be buying the sequel about her adolescence. But I will be getting a book and, I suspect, leaving my experiment with audiobooks behind (at least until the gym re-opens!)
I wanted to read this memoir by Janice Galloway having loved one of her books years ago (The Trick is to Keep Breathing). I am fairly confident I would hate a fiction audiobook read by some celebrity. This was read by the author and I loved her voice. It recounts her pre-teenage years growing up, with little money, in Ayrshire in the 1960s with an alcoholic father, a mother who had Janice late in life, by mistake, and was then saddled with her (and told Janice so), and a much older sister, Cora - glamorous, selfish, and, really, an awful bitch to the "wean". But it is not a bleak memoir, despite that: it's wonderfully brought to life with humour and no self-pity. That was just how things were, and you got on with it, ever-watchful for the moods of the capricious adults around you.
I definitely recommend this if you like memoirs. I am intrigued by what happened next - the book ends when Janice is about 12 - and will be buying the sequel about her adolescence. But I will be getting a book and, I suspect, leaving my experiment with audiobooks behind (at least until the gym re-opens!)
December 14, 2023
This was a reading group choice and on first picking it up I did not know what to expect and was uncertain whether this was going to be a difficult read exploring a young child growing up in 1950s and 1960s Scotland. Certainly Janice Galloway shows that her early life was difficult.
She is an unexpected addition to a family where her mother is in her 40's and married to a man prone to violence and excessive alcohol use. When the abuse becomes too much her mother escapes to a single room above a doctors surgery where she an Janice share a bed. But when Janice's adult sister Cora appears having left her marriage and child the drama increases dramatically.
Cora is a larger than life character who forces her personality on her mother and very young sister but this expands to casual violence and routine verbal assaults and attacks upon a vulnerable Janice.
At first blush this is suggests a sad tale but the book from a child's retains the hope in adversity of the child, is funny, poignant, written with well crafted pose and I turned each page compelled by the narrative. So much so that I have ordered the second volume and I am looking forward to finding out more about this life.
She is an unexpected addition to a family where her mother is in her 40's and married to a man prone to violence and excessive alcohol use. When the abuse becomes too much her mother escapes to a single room above a doctors surgery where she an Janice share a bed. But when Janice's adult sister Cora appears having left her marriage and child the drama increases dramatically.
Cora is a larger than life character who forces her personality on her mother and very young sister but this expands to casual violence and routine verbal assaults and attacks upon a vulnerable Janice.
At first blush this is suggests a sad tale but the book from a child's retains the hope in adversity of the child, is funny, poignant, written with well crafted pose and I turned each page compelled by the narrative. So much so that I have ordered the second volume and I am looking forward to finding out more about this life.
April 25, 2025
Whilst the detailed prose were beautifully executed, I found many of the chapters rather boring. A retelling of daily life. Nothing much happened.
We do get glimpses of understanding that her mother left her alcoholic father and that for a while the mother moved the 2 daughters into a little attic space before moving to a bigger place and that's pretty much it.
The mother is passive and a bit lost in life, her older sister Cora is very wild and bratty-- treats the mother like a personal servant and Janice gives us accounts of school life....And that's it.
To be fair, it is an honest account of a childhood of 1960's Scotland. Janice describes the poverty and dysfunctional attributes to family dynamics, bullying at school and hoping to do well academically.
There were moments where her sister Cora reminded me of my own unpredictable, malicious and unstable sister which I appreciated because sibling relationships are not often written about in novels or memoirs and I could relate to that strained relationship.
Overall it was an ok memoir, it didn't captivate or reel me in though. It was a slow read.
We do get glimpses of understanding that her mother left her alcoholic father and that for a while the mother moved the 2 daughters into a little attic space before moving to a bigger place and that's pretty much it.
The mother is passive and a bit lost in life, her older sister Cora is very wild and bratty-- treats the mother like a personal servant and Janice gives us accounts of school life....And that's it.
To be fair, it is an honest account of a childhood of 1960's Scotland. Janice describes the poverty and dysfunctional attributes to family dynamics, bullying at school and hoping to do well academically.
There were moments where her sister Cora reminded me of my own unpredictable, malicious and unstable sister which I appreciated because sibling relationships are not often written about in novels or memoirs and I could relate to that strained relationship.
Overall it was an ok memoir, it didn't captivate or reel me in though. It was a slow read.
May 19, 2022
I agree with someone else who posted a review on Goodreads - that it is simply not possible to remember all the happenings and detail which Janice Galloway recounts from her very early life - unless you have some sort of unique brain and memory. As I became increasingly aware that these very difficult childhood "memories" could not all be remembered in this detail or quantity I became untrusting of the rest of the book. If the memories had been, in part, recounted to her by another adult in her life, secondhand if that were possible sometimes, then these should have been recorded as a witness account. So the only reason I gave it 3 stars is that it was readable. Maybe I might have rated it higher if it had been fiction. There is lots of sadness in this book, too much sadness to sensationalise.
August 27, 2018
There are walloping great emotional punches carefully parcelled out among these childhood memories, periods of intensity that come up like car crashes on the already-rocky highway. As a child, Galloway presents herself without flinching as a serious and hyper-dependent ball of feelings and thoughts, and courageously presents her mother and older sister with the characteristic blend of grey morality that marks all people. While abuses of various kinds mark the Galloway household, so too do periods of joy and opportunity. I found this memoir quite moving and grew very attached - to all members of the household. Make no mistake, however; this is no naive retelling. The telling signs of writing mastery colour each and every page.
January 31, 2019
This is, apparently, an ‘anti-memoir’. Perhaps because it is recalled in impossibly sharp detail - surely there is fiction here between the memories. Perhaps because the life it describes is mundane and troubled - we are used to memoir coming from the ‘great and good’. Perhaps because Galloway is hinting at a narrative here that she did not grasp as a child.
In the end, it doesn’t greatly matter if it’s memoir or anti-memoir. It is beautifully written. Painfully so - it is hard to find oneself drawn in so effectively to such troubling episodes. The characters are fully fleshed, the textures and smells of life in 1950s Scotland are wonderfully rendered. It’s the kind of book that leaves you wanting more - and fortunately there is more...
In the end, it doesn’t greatly matter if it’s memoir or anti-memoir. It is beautifully written. Painfully so - it is hard to find oneself drawn in so effectively to such troubling episodes. The characters are fully fleshed, the textures and smells of life in 1950s Scotland are wonderfully rendered. It’s the kind of book that leaves you wanting more - and fortunately there is more...
October 6, 2017
This Is Not About Me, ripped my heart away. It narrates the story of a girl whose father was absent, a mother and sister who like male chauvinist pigs, had a weird hatred of women.
Her sister was the incarnation of the biggest bully ever. I was fortunate to have a wonderful big sister. It wasn’t difficult to dislike Cora, who was the worst sister ever, but was also the worst mother ever. She decided one day that she’d experienced enough of the traditional family life and left her husband and child.
Despite having a female parent who wished she had never been born, a disturbed sister, and a drunk for a father, Janice showed how one could overcome such dysfunction and find herself. Her happy self. 4/5
Her sister was the incarnation of the biggest bully ever. I was fortunate to have a wonderful big sister. It wasn’t difficult to dislike Cora, who was the worst sister ever, but was also the worst mother ever. She decided one day that she’d experienced enough of the traditional family life and left her husband and child.
Despite having a female parent who wished she had never been born, a disturbed sister, and a drunk for a father, Janice showed how one could overcome such dysfunction and find herself. Her happy self. 4/5
February 11, 2021
I adored this book. Another dysfunctional family memoir - the author growing up with her mother and her elder sister (by about 15 years). I was searching for Galloway's book on Clara Schumann and just happened upon this book from our electronic library system. The author grew up in Scotland and her mother actually had the daring to leave her husband and set up on her own. The elder sister abandons her husband and child and comes to live with them. Her behaviour is completely audacious. The author eventually figures out that this family problem "is not about her" - it's about her mother and her sister. A great read for those who like this sort of book.
March 24, 2019
I really loved this book. Janice Galloway has, in my opinion, an incredible knack for writing mundane situations in a compelling way. Would recommend, although I could be biased as I grew up in the same area as her, and really enjoyed reading about her life growing up in the same place as me, about 30 years or so earlier.
June 24, 2023
Similar to my review of Jessie Kesson’s similar book (qv) this is not great literature but tells an honest account of a childhood in Scotland. Poverty, dysfunctional family relationships, bullying, the hope of progress that doing well at school can bring. It brings alive society in the late 1950s and early 1960s with many things I remember from my childhood.
March 24, 2019
Es un libro duro, enternecedor y duro al mismo tiempo. Al principio me costaba cogerle el hilo, tanta descripción de fotografías me exasperaba pero lo he acabado queriendo más, necesito saber más de Janice, de la bruja de Cora, y de Beth.
December 17, 2022
I really enjoyed this memoir. Although I found it upsetting - particularly Cora’s spiteful cruelty- I also thought it was funny and truthful. The writer leaves space for the reader to formulate their own opinions of the complex family dynamics that are unique but strangely familiar too.
July 19, 2024
Smart, breathless, powerful prose. Somehow, Janice Galloway takes herself, her voice, right back to being a young child, bound in and confused by all the raw edges around her. It's unique, compelling memoir writing. The ending had me close to tears.
December 25, 2018
Listened to the audiobook. My heart breaks and bleeds for the lovely, lost wee lassie who has become a wonderful, talented woman. Thank you for sharing your life and your skill Janice.
March 4, 2020
Jarring but captivating.
August 22, 2022
4.5 stars
July 19, 2024
Im sure this is well written but I found it depressing!
January 4, 2021
This memoir was a simply lovely read. Was torn between giving it four and five stars. It starts with Galloway describing a series of photos from her childhood, and these loosely form the structure for the narrative. Slow moving and rendered in rich detail, there is no real 'plot' to this memoir - it is simply a beautiful portrait of childhood, covering the period from Galloway's earliest memories until the age of 11, as she grows up in small town Scotland in the 50s and 60s.
There are a number of threads that run throughout the story. One of these threads is the casual abuse of school teachers (as was common at the time - both verbal and 'the strap'); Galloway's violent alcoholic father - whom her mother eventually leaves; and her much older sister Nora who, while always self-absorbed, is by turns caring and randomly, sadistically cruel, both physically and emotionally. Young Janice both looks up to and fears her older sister. Another thread is Galloway's unfortunate uncanny resemblance to her father, which haunts her, a mark of his continuing connection to her that she can never escape, and which makes her avoid mirrors and photographs. Nora's connection to their father, although not worn visibly, actually seems stronger in that it is she who continues the cycle of violence, while projecting her self-centredness and other traits of their father onto her sister. And yet, you have to admire Nora, a fierce bitch who lives on her own terms, walking away from a baby she didn't want and the man who fathered it, refusing the prescribed domestic role, and living with sexual autonomy by choice. The last thread I noticed is the feeling of unwantedness or unbelonging. While her mother's love shines through in complex, nuanced ways that are really beautifully captured, Galloway also is not allowed to forget that she was an unexpected and unwanted late birth. Her mother's own struggles rumble in the background of the story, while she still persists in trying to create a loving home for her daughters despite poverty, abuse, and illness.
Maybe my favourite thing about the book was the brilliant way Galloway presents her childhood thoughts about things--she has a knack for capturing the unformed logic of childhood--how decisions are made through a child's particular understanding of the world and thought processes. It made me nostalgic for childhood play, endless imaginings and coming up with projects that only made sense through a child's experimental lens (like moving rocks around all day to build something or trying to make perfume from plants). At the same time, Galloway captured the parallel loneliness and uncertainty of being a child in an adult world, especially a child who doesn't readily fit in with peers.
I listened to the audible audiobook, which Galloway read and I think self-produced. She reads it very well, engagingly and expressively, but there's a certain unpolished quality to it - she repeats sentences now and again, or stops herself and says she is going to redo a part because she made a mistake - rather than a detraction, I found it delightfully DIY and intimate.
There are a number of threads that run throughout the story. One of these threads is the casual abuse of school teachers (as was common at the time - both verbal and 'the strap'); Galloway's violent alcoholic father - whom her mother eventually leaves; and her much older sister Nora who, while always self-absorbed, is by turns caring and randomly, sadistically cruel, both physically and emotionally. Young Janice both looks up to and fears her older sister. Another thread is Galloway's unfortunate uncanny resemblance to her father, which haunts her, a mark of his continuing connection to her that she can never escape, and which makes her avoid mirrors and photographs. Nora's connection to their father, although not worn visibly, actually seems stronger in that it is she who continues the cycle of violence, while projecting her self-centredness and other traits of their father onto her sister. And yet, you have to admire Nora, a fierce bitch who lives on her own terms, walking away from a baby she didn't want and the man who fathered it, refusing the prescribed domestic role, and living with sexual autonomy by choice. The last thread I noticed is the feeling of unwantedness or unbelonging. While her mother's love shines through in complex, nuanced ways that are really beautifully captured, Galloway also is not allowed to forget that she was an unexpected and unwanted late birth. Her mother's own struggles rumble in the background of the story, while she still persists in trying to create a loving home for her daughters despite poverty, abuse, and illness.
Maybe my favourite thing about the book was the brilliant way Galloway presents her childhood thoughts about things--she has a knack for capturing the unformed logic of childhood--how decisions are made through a child's particular understanding of the world and thought processes. It made me nostalgic for childhood play, endless imaginings and coming up with projects that only made sense through a child's experimental lens (like moving rocks around all day to build something or trying to make perfume from plants). At the same time, Galloway captured the parallel loneliness and uncertainty of being a child in an adult world, especially a child who doesn't readily fit in with peers.
I listened to the audible audiobook, which Galloway read and I think self-produced. She reads it very well, engagingly and expressively, but there's a certain unpolished quality to it - she repeats sentences now and again, or stops herself and says she is going to redo a part because she made a mistake - rather than a detraction, I found it delightfully DIY and intimate.
March 24, 2015
I don’t think I’ve ever read a memoir that only stretched from ages 4 to about-to-turn 12 or a modern book set entirely in Scotland, both added interest to this story. Galloway made me wish I could thank my parents for my childhood. Hers was not so bleak as Angela’s Ashes, but miserable enough. It was good reading, though, thanks to the optimism of a child and Galloway’s gift for bringing scenes to life. As kids, we tend to think our own home is normal because we don’t know otherwise. Her life changed abruptly more than once, but so long as she was with her mom she adjusted. Galloway’s slightly younger than I, but it seemed she was living in an earlier time – trapped by poverty. She does hint that she will find a passion to lift her in her teens, and I’m glad to see she’s already written a sequel: All Made Up.
January 31, 2013
If you ever have to chance to go to a literary interview with Janice Galloway, do yourself a favour and go - she's brilliant, funny, inspiring. When I was flying to England for the first time I was in the middle of her book "the trick is to keep breathing". I've not read anything of hers since but having seen her last year and listened to her talk I went out and bought both of her memoirs, this being the first. Seems bleak at first but there's a lot of humour in it too. Especially like Sophie the neighbour! She's got to be every child's nightmare!
Brilliant book, she reads it out loud in such a way that it seems funnier than when I read it but I think that's just because she has a greater capacity for humour than I do.
Brilliant book, she reads it out loud in such a way that it seems funnier than when I read it but I think that's just because she has a greater capacity for humour than I do.
July 31, 2011
A compelling memoirof Janice Galloway's pre-teenage years; honest and heart-breaking, it captures the confusing behaviour and expectations of adults - in particular her depressed mother and seemingly psychotic elder sister Cora. Anyone growing up in Scotland in the 60s or 70s will be only too familiar with the everyday cruelties of school and that particular Calvinist method of child-rearing, not to mention the Scottish diet of sweeties and chips for all occasions. Somehow Galloway's love of words and music even at that early age provide the optimistic counterpoint to the air of bleakness and hopelessness.
March 20, 2012
Exactly what I hoped for and came to expect from Galloway. Her novels feel highly autobiographical, but it's nice to read the real background of the author behind them. I like the fact that this covers only a limited period of her childhood - it gains a lot from having an intimate focus as opposed to a broad overview. A relatively small cast too - but allowing us to really get to know everyone. As ever with this kind of memoir I'm left wondering how she remembered so much, and how much if not she guessed at / retrospectively recreated.
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