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Title: Dublin Made Me, but didn't keep me
Review: Has the superior writing of Frank McCourt and Roddy Doyle opened the door for anyone to believe their memoirs are worthy of public interest? Dublin Made Me, is at best a watery account of Sheridan's childhood which fails miserably to grip the reader and maintain interest. This account is more appropriate for bedtime anecdotes handed from father to child, than anything even remotely comparable to the writings of McCourt and other contemporaries. If the reader is anticipating the rawness and vigor associated with the accounts of others who have shown the best and the worst of Dublin life, then they will be disappointed. A very forgettable read.
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