This is tediously written and the narrator is depressed and depressing. It seems to touch on all the stereotypes of the Irish: alcoholism, dysfunctional families, abuse. More than half way into it, I just couldn't take the narrative any more or the constant switching from present to past and the it-might-have-happened-this-way approach. Ugh!
Not only is the story negative and depressing, but every sentence is itself negative and depressing. I can't figure out how this book won the Booker Prize. It is no Coetzee, that's for sure.
This book had nothng to it. You waited and waited for something to happen and nothing ever did. there is too much fowl language and it degrades the book even more. It seemed that the author had too much time on her hands.