Not to say she was correct about everything she ever said or did, but I feel some of the grander gestures deserved more compassionate thought and dialogue than immediate cancellation. One can argue cancel culture began with Sinead’s act of ripping up a photo of JPII on Saturday Night Live, and one can also argue the cancellation was aimed at the wrong people. Sinead was trying to tell us something at the time and we weren’t listening. I know I wasn’t.
I was in college that year, and I was a fan. The Lion and the Cobra featured heavily in my car’s cassette deck rotation, and my dormmate round-robined I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got with a number of Pet Shop Boys tapes throughout the semester. I joined the Catholic Student Union and attended the student masses. I lived as cleanly as temptation allowed. Like millions of others, I took Sinead’s act personally and knee-jerked. I tossed out the tapes and the Rolling Stone issue with her interview that I’d saved. I even wrote an editorial for my college paper and received blowback for it. I didn’t care, though. I had believed an artist I admired dismissed my beliefs. It took years for me to realize she wanted to start a movement to save our faith.
Sinead’s story here, I think, parallels the situation with Bill Cosby. We heard rumblings and rumors of impropriety between priests and young parishioners. Sinead spoke up; nobody listened. We heard rumors of Cosby’s womanizing. Women spoke up. Nobody really listened. The Boston Globe broke a story; people listened. Hannibal Buress turned Cosby’s sins into a comedy act; people listened.
The lesson here is maybe we should listen to women before the shit gets too real, but if you’re new here you’re expecting a book review so I won’t veer too offtrack for my first original Substack post. Rememberings is short for a memoir, but quite impactful. It reads exactly as the title implies, which chapters covering different stages of Sinead’s life—a difficult childhood with an abusive mother, teenage rebellion and rehabilitation, the perils of fame.
As a memoir, it is not complete, and Sinead even notes this late in the book. She explains how large gaps following the SNL incident and recent years left her memory owing to personal trauma. While we can piece together that part of her life through other sources, it’s sad to know that time has died with her. Nonetheless, the book worth the price of admission for her vivid childhood recalling and her Prince encounter story.
Be warned, the book begins with a message that no doubt was meant to introduce hope but now reads as a gut punch. From there, one can read Rememberings with the hope that she has finally found peace.
I was in college that year, and I was a fan. The Lion and the Cobra featured heavily in my car’s cassette deck rotation, and my dormmate round-robined I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got with a number of Pet Shop Boys tapes throughout the semester. I joined the Catholic Student Union and attended the student masses. I lived as cleanly as temptation allowed. Like millions of others, I took Sinead’s act personally and knee-jerked. I tossed out the tapes and the Rolling Stone issue with her interview that I’d saved. I even wrote an editorial for my college paper and received blowback for it. I didn’t care, though. I had believed an artist I admired dismissed my beliefs. It took years for me to realize she wanted to start a movement to save our faith.
Sinead’s story here, I think, parallels the situation with Bill Cosby. We heard rumblings and rumors of impropriety between priests and young parishioners. Sinead spoke up; nobody listened. We heard rumors of Cosby’s womanizing. Women spoke up. Nobody really listened. The Boston Globe broke a story; people listened. Hannibal Buress turned Cosby’s sins into a comedy act; people listened.
The lesson here is maybe we should listen to women before the shit gets too real, but if you’re new here you’re expecting a book review so I won’t veer too offtrack for my first original Substack post. Rememberings is short for a memoir, but quite impactful. It reads exactly as the title implies, which chapters covering different stages of Sinead’s life—a difficult childhood with an abusive mother, teenage rebellion and rehabilitation, the perils of fame.
As a memoir, it is not complete, and Sinead even notes this late in the book. She explains how large gaps following the SNL incident and recent years left her memory owing to personal trauma. While we can piece together that part of her life through other sources, it’s sad to know that time has died with her. Nonetheless, the book worth the price of admission for her vivid childhood recalling and her Prince encounter story.
Be warned, the book begins with a message that no doubt was meant to introduce hope but now reads as a gut punch. From there, one can read Rememberings with the hope that she has finally found peace.
Rating: B+
