Hector: in Penny Apples

c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-12–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-11–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-10–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-9–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-8–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-7–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-6–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-5–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-4–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-3–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-2–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-1–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-0–>wp:paragraph {“className”:”MsoNormal”} –>

On Santanta’s instigation I took another look recently at Bill Cullen’s ‘It’s a Long Way from Penny Apples’.  A decade old now, it feels as if it’s of another age. And it tells of another earlier age, the 40s and 50s in working-class Dublin.

 

Whether you regard Cullen (currently the Alan Sugar of Ireland’s version of The Apprentice) with admiration, as the ultimate in poor-boy-made-good, or with distaste, as a typical ‘cute hoor’ of the extinct Celtic Tiger variety, is purely a matter of personal opinion. The tenor of this autobiography is of the ‘didn’t I do well?’ variety. I skimmed rather than read it. You might choose to do neither!

The book’s title comes from a valedictory comment of the author’s mother, a Dublin street market vendor, amazed at the rapid rise of her son.

Worth a browse – but hardly worth buying!

Leave a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.