Romulus, My Father

She was sick and lovely but how much is enough? Is a childhood harrowing if you don't know when you're in it that there's any other kind? I'm thinking I'm fortunate to be born in the seventies when kids were beginning to gain more currency. Perhaps the seventies were the good middle ground, the place between the toast and caviar that Yvie's mum talks about.


The writer sits in front of the audience. It's a warm audience, but an audience all the same. The questions aren't about the film, or even the book, but about his life. What happened to Susan? She was put in a home. We lost touch. I found her again. She came to a screening.

Eric Bana is on the panel. He's the shiniest man alive. Josie says his suit is too tight. I don't think so. Ray says he's a rock until he's asked to speak, and then he's on. He's not got the eloquence or the passion of Gaita or Drake. He doesn't own the story. But he's totally oz.

I go back to check the Andrew O'Hagan line. Say I was longing for disaster. I'm locked onto him. It's not like the red shirt night. I'm listening. I've not digested it yet.