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    The Dublin Marilyn
    The Dublin Marilyn
    The Dublin Marilyn
    Ebook163 pages1 hour

    The Dublin Marilyn

    By Jackie Devoy

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    About this ebook

    The Dublin Marilyn transports readers back to 1960-80s Dublin through one girl’s coming-of-age amongst struggling inner city families. Capturing the era of booming post-war ‘Baby Boomers,’ this nostalgic tale highlights the tight-knit community binding battling neighbourhoods together.

    Despite poverty and hardship, an unbreakable solidarity reigned - with helping hands extended whenever crises hit, and no pretensions of anyone being better than the next. Stitching tales steeped in humour and heart, the story unfolds in the lyrical lilt of working-class Dublin speech from a vanished time.

    Whether reconnecting older readers to bygone memories or shocking younger minds with harsher lives, The Dublin Marilyn pays tribute to the humour and resilience of cities past. With evocative images complementing the rich narrative, immerse yourself in yesteryear’s vibrant streets – where community meant family and family meant everything.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAustin Macauley Publishers
    Release dateJun 21, 2024
    ISBN9781035846337
    The Dublin Marilyn
    Author

    Jackie Devoy

    Jackie Devoy grew up in Dublin’s inner city, in Fatima Mansions. Born in 1964 into a large family, in a time when Ireland was different from the Ireland we know today. Jackie grew up to be a hard-working, independent woman. Jackie believes in living her life to its fullest, filled with colour, love and laughter. With stories from her past to her present that will have you laughing and crying, Jackie can only be described as a charismatic person with the kindest soul. Jackie is an inspiration to many—to never give up on your dreams and go for what you want!

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      Book preview

      The Dublin Marilyn - Jackie Devoy

      About the Author

      Jackie Devoy grew up in Dublin’s inner city, in Fatima Mansions. Born in the 1964, into a large family, in a time when Ireland was different to the Ireland we know today. Jackie grew up to be a hardworking, independent woman. Jackie believes in living her life to its fullest, filled with colour, love and laughter. With stories from her past to her present that will have you laughing and crying, Jackie can only be described as charismatic person with the kindest soul. Jackie is an inspiration to many, to never give up on your dreams and go for what you want!

      Dedication

      I would like to dedicate this book to all the wonderful people for Dublin inner city and Fatima Mansions.

      Copyright Information ©

      Jackie Devoy 2024

      The right of Jackie Devoy to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

      Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

      ISBN 9781035846320 (Paperback)

      ISBN 9781035846337 (ePub e-book)

      www.austinmacauley.com

      First Published 2024

      Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

      1 Canada Square

      Canary Wharf

      London

      E14 5AA

      Acknowledgement

      I would like to thank all the wonderful people of Dublin, Ireland and around the world for all their support.

      Also, to Austin Macaulay Publishers and employees for their help, support and guidance in helping me get this book published.

      Chapter 1

      I was born in the early 1960s at the Coombe Hospital in South Dublin and grew up in Fatima Mansions. My father, Billy, gave me the name Annabella. As a child growing up, my friends called me Bella. Later, they added Stargirl, so I became known as Stargirl Bella or Stargirl B. Things were hard in those days. Growing up in the inner-city flats, I recall how we kids played together in the neighbourhood. I was a red-haired little girl, and my friends teased me because of my hair, saying, Stargirl B, did your ma leave you out in the rain all night rusty? Kids can be amusingly cruel to each other, but that is just kids.

      I grew up to love the adorable Marilyn Monroe, the American paragon of beauty and panache who overcame her humble beginning and forged a life that touched many people with power and means. She is my idol, and my passion for her has won me the sobriquet, The Dublin Marilyn. However, this is my story, my growing up and living in Dublin.

      Up to the 1980s, life in Dublin presented an exquisite sense of community that had bound inner-city families. Even though things were hard, you could not help but feel nostalgic and wistful about the spirit and events of those days—the bonding, the strong rapport, the infectious solidarity, and the feeling of humanity, which kept us strong amid widespread poverty and want.

      My mother’s name is Lucy. My father worked for Glenn and Sons at the back of Genesis. Glenn was a lovely man and good to him. Father drove the company’s lorry. He would go to Cork and Mayo, delivering cardboard boxes to Michael Smurfit and others. Father was a workaholic and never missed work. Like most people with large families who lived in the flats, we were poor.

      Some women bore as many as fifteen to twenty children. Women were baby boomers. My mother had seven of us. There was my elder sister, Emilia. My grandma brought her up. It was common for your grandma to bring up the eldest child in those days.

      My eldest brother, Jake, came next, followed by Aaron and me. I am the fourth most senior. Then there is Michael. Thomas is the youngest of the brothers. The last girl Siobhan came after him. So, those are the seven of us. Believe me when I say we were poor.

      We lived in 430 Blocks on the fourth balcony, and many families lived there. Mostly, everyone got on together. I do not think they had a choice because they needed one another, as the times were hard. Women did not have anything. They struggled very severely, and no one had a pot to piss in. That was why they had large families.

      God loved them, but they were as slow as snails. I suppose they had to be because they would not have survived the hardship if they did not. Thanks to God, the women were strong.

      We lived in a three-bedroom flat. I remember there was a scullery in it that was very small. The scullery is now called a kitchen, and there was a giant troll in its middle. The troll was our sink.

      My mother used to have a washing machine, and I think it was called a tandem. It had rollers on top of it. I remember her putting my father’s shorts in-between the two rollers, and there was a handle on it for you to turn it. It was an old-fashioned machine. After, the shorts came out like they were stiff. They were mad-looking things. Mad-looking machines.

      You did not get a room on the balcony, so you had to put a line in the scullery in the winter to get the children’s clothes dry. The kids have nappies today, but in the past, we had the towelling types with a big nappy pin in the front of them, and they would put plastic knickers over the towel nappies. The towelling nappies were all stained with Sudocrem. The plastic knickers would scrape the top of your legs off because there was a tight elastic in them.

      The flat was not very big. We all slept in one big double bed with springs inside that scraped our legs. Our duvets were CIE coats which the men wore on the buses. We had army coats and a TV which my mother rented from a telly shop in Thomas Street. You had to put a coin in it to start it.

      It would last one hour, and you would have to put another one in to continue watching. They were like the coins you would put into the machines out of a launderette.

      We had fantastic times in the flats. The families were all real people, the whole lot of them. They were. You would be surprised how large the families were, quite massive, more than ever. All sorts of people lived in the flats. There were the Huguenots. There were also Jewish refugees from Germany and Vietnam. It was a complex mix of people.

      I cried when my family left the flats because the area provoked some happy memories. The people there were beautiful, fantastic human beings, real people, happy-go-lucky in their unique ways, and everyone got on well together. It was a great place to live and grow up. Do not get me wrong. There was a handful of nasty people. So, we must be clear about it.

      People did not move out of the flats. The area was enjoyable, especially when the rag-and-bone man would come calling all around the flats. He used to show rags, bottles, and jam jars. You would bring the old stuff down to him, and he would give you a little plastic windmill. He would make his money out of them, but he was a lovely man. He was funny and bubbly.

      You also had your local coalman that came around. There was a second man that helped him. They came into all the blocks to sell coal for the fire. They came around with a horse and cart, which they used to carry two stone bags of

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