Before she was a Mammy , before she had Chisellers , and before they made her a Granny , Agnes Browne was Agnes Reddin, a young girl-or a Young Wan- growing up in the Jarro in Dublin.  Brendan O'Carroll takes readers back to the heart of working-class Dublin, this time in the 1940s.  Together with her soon to be lifelong best friend Marion Delany, young Agnes manages to survive the indignities and demands of Catholic school, the unwanted births of siblings, days spent in the factories and markets, and nights in the dance hall as rock-and-roll invades Dublin. But on the eve of her wedding night, the Jarro is alive with gossip—will Agnes be turned away at the altar?  For the whole parish knows Agnes's not-so-well-kept secret.  And with a mother falling further into dementia, and a younger sister turning to a life of crime, it's up to Agnes alone to keep her splintering family together, while trying to create one of her own.  Filled with O'Carroll's trademark wicked wit and loving, larger-than-life characters, The Young Wan shows the hardscrabble beginnings of the ultimate Irish mother and family. Praise for  The Mammy "I think Brendan O'Carroll is Agnes Browne, and if he's not, he's done one hell of a job capturing the absolute essence of a widowed mother in working-class Dublin."— Anjelica Huston "How to lose weight: Read  The Mammy . You will laugh your arse off and your tears will do away with your water-retention problem. It is an uproariously funny account of growing up in inner-city Dublin—a laugh-out loud book with a Dickensian twist to it."— Malachy McCourt, author of  A Monk Swimming "Hilarious and irreverent. A must-read."— Gabriel Byrne Praise for  The Chisellers “A brilliant book.”— Sunday Independent  (London)   “By turns funny, wise and heartbreaking, this Irish Tales of the City is O'Carroll's second book in his Mrs. Browne trilogy; the first,  The Mammy , received high praise after publication in the U.S. last year. Featuring eccentric characters who are charming, irreverent and believable, the story continues in 1973 with Agnes Browne at center stage… This lively novel features a wedding, a funeral and an ending that will melt the hardest heart. Readers will eagerly await the third book in this series.”— Publishers Weekly   Praise for  The Granny “O'Carroll is a popular stand-up comic, and he writes with an easy sense of humor… winning and likable.”— Kirkus Reviews   "These Dubliners are irresistibly charming... Tales of working-class Irish life now fill bookshelves, but there's space aplenty for O'Carroll's sturdy contribution.”— Publishers Weekly   Praise for  The Young Wan "An almost surefire winner… one of those books that demands to be read in one sitting."— The Irish Voice Brendan O'Carroll , the youngest of eleven children, was born in Stonybatter, a North Dublin neighborhood, in 1955. He is an acclaimed playwright and Ireland's most popular stand-up comedian. The creator of a hugely successful Irish radio show, Mrs. Browne's Boys (the genesis of his novels), O'Carroll is also an actor and has a role in the upcoming film version of Angela's Ashes . All the books in his Mrs. Browne trilogy were #1 bestsellers in his native Ireland. He lives in Dublin, Ireland. chapter one Blessed Heart Girls National School The Jarro, February 1940 It is the line that all Catholics get to say just once in their lifetime. Conducted in their rhythm by Sister Concepta Pius, the forty-four young little girls in the Communion class sang out the line in unison, like a tiny girls' choir. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession," they sang. Although the little girls were still three years from having to say this in a real confessional, in the Blessed Heart School, the nuns believed it was never too early to prepare for communion with God. "Well done, my little angels." Sister Concepta Pius smiled. "Now, is everybody clear on that?" The nun's squinting eyes scanned the room. As usual there was just one hand in the air, and as usual it was the hand of Marion Delany. Sister Concepta raised her eyes slowly to heaven and asked, "Yes, Marion?" Marion Delany stood, but you could hardly notice. Marion Delany was the tiniest girl in the class, and yet at seven years of age she was two years older than the rest of the girls. It was not that Marion had been held back a couple of years in school because of any learning difficulty. The fact was that, until she was seven years of age, Marion Delany had never attended school. The reason for this is simple, yet complicated, as Marion's mother tried to explain to the officer from the Department of Education who called to her home. The officer had been sent there when the department realized that a child from the Birth Register seven years previously had yet to come on to the School Register, two years after she should have. It was all to do with public transport, Marion's mother tried to explain. You see, in Dublin, no child f