At the end of Edna O’Brien’s short story “A Scandalous Woman”, the narrator reflects on how Ireland was a ‘land of shame… a land of strange sacrificial women’. I’ve always felt this can be read two ways: the self-sacrifices of women to maintain the martyred Irish mammy archetype (‘how many Irish mammies does it take to change a lightbulb?’, ‘ah don’t worry about me pet, I’m grand here in the dark), and the way in which the post-independent state sacrificed the rights and lives of women to maintain the official and oppressive conservative Catholic ideology. Women were denied access to contraception and divorce, forced to travel overseas in secrecy if they needed an abortion, and sequestered away in various institutions if they ‘transgressed’.
Against this, in the 1980s and 1990s there was a series of what the late academic Siobhan Kilfeather described as ‘sensationalised exemplary cases’ which highlighted how the issues of sexual and reproductive rights (or the lack thereof) had affected individual girls and women in devastating, sometimes fatal, ways .
But. For the individuals involved, just as for Amy Dunne in 2007, their circumstances were't sensational or exemplary: it was their lives. I am Amy Dunne is a powerful and well-paced book which focuses not on the wider social context but on Dunne’s own story and how she came to be at the centre of a high-profile legal case at just seventeen, her life up until that point, and just as importantly, her life afterwards. How awful to have your personal experience publicised and politicised like this, to have your most intimate details broadcast to the nation on the Six One News. And even if she was anonymised as ‘Miss D’ in the case well, one, Ireland is a small place and word gets around, and two, a cloak of anonymity is no shield against such an invasion of privacy. It is reprehensible she was subjected to this at a very vulnerable time in her life.
This was a devastatingly raw and painful read and Dunne, who is commendably self-aware, also remarks how painful it was for her to write. Also commendable was how Orla O’Donnell reflected on her part in the initial court reporting and the impact of this on Dunne. I hope that Dunne now feels exonerated from the sense of isolation, guilt and shame she carried with her for many years and that in the future, if she maintains a public profile, it is because she wants one.