What do you think?
Bloody Mary
Since she rose to international fame in 1985 with her seminal Irish jazz album Tired and Emotional, Mary Coughlan's battles with addiction, the problems in her personal life and career have been well documented. But until now she has never spoken of the traumatic events in her childhood that led to a life of rebellion, running away, and reliance on drugs and alcohol. In this funny, moving and typically outspoken memoir, Ireland's best-loved jazz singer pulls no punches in getting to the heart of what made Mary so contrary. Detailing her battles with the bottle, her suicide attempts and her confinement in psychiatric hospitals, Mary tells of how, after hitting rock-bottom, she pulled herself out of the dregs of a vodka bottle to confront the foundations of her problems head-on. As she tells her story A---- with a ribald, running commentary on the highs and lows of celebrity culture -- we get to experience an alternative evolution of Ireland in the '70s and '80s, populated with hippies, rock stars and movie moguls, and one wild Irish girl determined to live a life less ordinary.
283 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 2009
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 29, 2024
Not so much warts and all, after the halfway point this is nothing but warts. It’s the ups ups ups and downs downs downs – mostly downs it seems – of the life of Mary Coughlan, great Irish singer, as recounted by herself. She has a funny skewering style which is perfect for the Pre-Fame part of her life (I Was A Major Hippy it could be called) but then after 1985 (first wonderful album – they call it jazz, but it’s really not, it can’t be because I like it) the story changes into I Was a Major Alcoholic and that is too serious, mostly, to be funny about.
Mary, like Keith Richards (80) and Brian Wilson (82) and several other famous cases, is another example of just how much drink & drugs some human bodies can take and still be alive. (“I went out, drank a half-bottle of vodka – down the hatch in three gulps – and I came back to do the gig”…. A few pages later, no surprise to read : “Because my liver, my kidneys and all my organs were in such a state from alcohol poisoning, I developed a condition called metabolic acidosis…I was put in the intensive care ward”).
Alcoholism dominates this story. It’s sad. Actually it’s horrible. Mary says that being sexually abused by her grandfather and her uncle led directly to her feelings of self-loathing and shame that she was only able to get rid of temporarily by drinking. The abuse happened when she was 7,8 and 9.
Ah well, back in those days it was probably quite common, surely. But when was those days? Any time since the dawn of the human race up to, say, the year 2000 when everybody realised it was going on? And in all countries?
The picture of the large chaotic family, with so many sisters, brothers, half-sisters and brothers, cousins and uncles, all scrambled up together is vivid and sounds like tons of fun. Here she is remembering the families she grew up with :
The Sullivans had thirteen, the McDonoughs had fourteen, the Connollys had seventeen, the Connollys next door to these Connollys had twenty-one. Mrs Reed had twenty-five children, the Wynnes had ten, the Nallys had eight. There were some families who only had two kids, but they were few and far between.
I think this is a clue – where better to hide child abuse than inamongst this jolly turmoil. How can the parents have a clue what’s going on? And the crime is beyond their imagination anyway. It’s a perfect crime, the victim is terrified to tell anyone. They think no one will believe them. Eventually Mary grew up and in her 20s told her mother and her mother didn’t believe her and said she would never speak to her again if she repeated what she’d said. So it goes.
Regarding a later domestic disaster Mary says :
But that’s what happened to people at the time, I suppose. There were no social workers, there were no nice counsellors; there were no therapists. There were just fucked-up people trying to cope as best they knew with things they had no understanding of.
This was written in 2009. I guess that in the last 15 years there have been yet more dramas but as of now Mary is 68 and still going strong.
Mary, like Keith Richards (80) and Brian Wilson (82) and several other famous cases, is another example of just how much drink & drugs some human bodies can take and still be alive. (“I went out, drank a half-bottle of vodka – down the hatch in three gulps – and I came back to do the gig”…. A few pages later, no surprise to read : “Because my liver, my kidneys and all my organs were in such a state from alcohol poisoning, I developed a condition called metabolic acidosis…I was put in the intensive care ward”).
Alcoholism dominates this story. It’s sad. Actually it’s horrible. Mary says that being sexually abused by her grandfather and her uncle led directly to her feelings of self-loathing and shame that she was only able to get rid of temporarily by drinking. The abuse happened when she was 7,8 and 9.
Ah well, back in those days it was probably quite common, surely. But when was those days? Any time since the dawn of the human race up to, say, the year 2000 when everybody realised it was going on? And in all countries?
The picture of the large chaotic family, with so many sisters, brothers, half-sisters and brothers, cousins and uncles, all scrambled up together is vivid and sounds like tons of fun. Here she is remembering the families she grew up with :
The Sullivans had thirteen, the McDonoughs had fourteen, the Connollys had seventeen, the Connollys next door to these Connollys had twenty-one. Mrs Reed had twenty-five children, the Wynnes had ten, the Nallys had eight. There were some families who only had two kids, but they were few and far between.
I think this is a clue – where better to hide child abuse than inamongst this jolly turmoil. How can the parents have a clue what’s going on? And the crime is beyond their imagination anyway. It’s a perfect crime, the victim is terrified to tell anyone. They think no one will believe them. Eventually Mary grew up and in her 20s told her mother and her mother didn’t believe her and said she would never speak to her again if she repeated what she’d said. So it goes.
Regarding a later domestic disaster Mary says :
But that’s what happened to people at the time, I suppose. There were no social workers, there were no nice counsellors; there were no therapists. There were just fucked-up people trying to cope as best they knew with things they had no understanding of.
This was written in 2009. I guess that in the last 15 years there have been yet more dramas but as of now Mary is 68 and still going strong.
April 8, 2019
I’ve only recently come across the singer Mary Coughlan as she’s a big favourite of my partner. Before going to see her in Hebden Bridge next weekend, I thought it would be a good idea to read her autobiography. Bloody Mary is well named. Her life story (up to 2009 when the book was published) is told in warts-and-all style here, detailing her childhood sexual abuse, her related descent into alcoholism and drug abuse and her recovery as a person and an artist. Despite her travails, Coughlan is someone you feel has a good heart and someone you’d want on your side. In this book she recognises and deals with her faults head on and comes out the other side. It’s a funny and often moving account of a life well lived that pulls no punches. As a result of reading it I’m looking forward even more to seeing her play live.
April 14, 2025
I really appreciated Mary’s honesty in this very complex story of her life told through an easy page turner. A lot of her life story resonated with me especially the trauma of getting sober while unpacking why we drank. Just goes to show famous or not famous, we’re all on a very similar path. Would love to see a new book of her life since this book. Keep loving with all your heart Mary… thanks for sharing your voice in so many ways.
May 29, 2018
I seriously had my doubts about this book. The first thirteen chapters felt light weight and not particularly authentic. Then somewhat like the story Mary was telling about her life it changed gear, it suddenly became real and totally authentic and far more enjoyable. It seems to me the first part of her life whilst chaotic and full of anger, for some interesting for me not so. She wasn't wholly present, therefore I suspect making it difficult for her to recall how she actually felt but as she becomes present in her own life we start to see and feel Mary.
I wanted to read this because I saw her perform as part of a writers and readers festival in Auckland relating to the book. The performance was heart felt and rather marvelous. I had not heard of her but my sister who accompanied me had, so my experience of the performance was a bit cart before the horse. Now having read this I can make more sense of the layers underlying that performance and a desire to see her perform again. I will now go and have a listen to some of the songs. Here's hoping she doesn't just come back to Christchurch and I get the opportunity. She also shed some light on a few folk I have previously seen live and spurned me to revisit them in my music my current music choices.
I particularly enjoyed the redemptive quality and the honesty around how she was not available to her children while she was busy numbing and running from herself. It is a familiar story that gets played out by many (myself included) and yet for me it never gets dull reading others paths to a wholehearted, real existence.
Bravo Mary Coughlan - I hope the joy of what you have found simply gets deeper and deeper.
I wanted to read this because I saw her perform as part of a writers and readers festival in Auckland relating to the book. The performance was heart felt and rather marvelous. I had not heard of her but my sister who accompanied me had, so my experience of the performance was a bit cart before the horse. Now having read this I can make more sense of the layers underlying that performance and a desire to see her perform again. I will now go and have a listen to some of the songs. Here's hoping she doesn't just come back to Christchurch and I get the opportunity. She also shed some light on a few folk I have previously seen live and spurned me to revisit them in my music my current music choices.
I particularly enjoyed the redemptive quality and the honesty around how she was not available to her children while she was busy numbing and running from herself. It is a familiar story that gets played out by many (myself included) and yet for me it never gets dull reading others paths to a wholehearted, real existence.
Bravo Mary Coughlan - I hope the joy of what you have found simply gets deeper and deeper.
July 7, 2017
Compelling warts and all tale of Irish jazz and blues singer. She holds nothing back in this occasionally gritty sometimes humorous autobiography. Highly recommended.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews