Angela's Ashes: A Memoir by Frank McCourt
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Book Reviews of Angela's Ashes: A Memoir
Book Review: A Bit Of The Odd Manner
Summary: 5 Stars
Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes" is probably the easiest review that I have had to write since I have been doing such reviews in this space. Why? Frank McCourt's book of childhood memoirs is my story. No, not in the details of his life's story, or mine. But rather in how being Irish, being poor and being uprooted affects your childhood, and later. And those traumas, for good or evil, cross generational lines. McCourt, we are told as his story unfolds, was born in America of immigrants of the Diaspora after Irish independence who, for one reason or another, returned to the old country in defeat in the 1930's. As McCourt notes right at the beginning, that fact in itself provides a rather ironic twist if one is familiar with Irish history (at least until very recently). He is, in any case, thus a child of the Great Depression and World War II, the generation of my parents, as it was refracted through Ireland during that period. I, on the other hand, am a child of the 1960's, the "Generation of `68" here in America born of the dreaded Irish Catholic-English Protestant combination- and raised in an Irish Catholic enclave. Nevertheless the pages of this memoir are filled to the brim with the results of the emotional (and sometimes physical scars) of being "shanty" Irish in this world that hit home to this reader.
That said, we did not share the terrible effect that "the drink" had on creating his dysfunctional family with his father's, Malachy McCourt, crazed need for the alcohol cure to drown his sorrows and his bitterness and the fact that his great moment in life was his bit for "the cause" (of Irish independence). A familiar story in the Irish community here and in the old country but my father seldom drank, although he too was constantly out of work and shared with Frank's father that same bitterness about his fate. He was uneducated, lacking in skills and prospects and as a "hillbilly" Protestant Southerner from coal country down in Kentucky. Thus, an `outsider' like Frank's father. That is the commonality that caught my eye (and sometimes my throat) as I read of Frank's youthful trials, tribulations and adventures. McCourt's ability to tap into that "mystical" something is what makes this a fine read, whether you are Irish or not.
Throughout the book McCourt's woe begotten but fatally prideful father is constantly referred to in the Irishtown working class poor ghetto of Limerick (and elsewhere, as well, but the heart of the story is told from there) as having an odd manner. This reflects a certain clannishness against those from the North of Ireland (Dare I say it, then area the known as Ulster) and a sneaking suspicion amount that crowd of some alien (meaning English Protestant) heritage. As the book progresses that odd trait is transferred (by heredity?) to Frank in his various wanderings, enterprise and desires. What joins us together then is that odd manner that gets repeatedly invoked throughout the book. Frank survived to tell the tale. As did I. But in both cases it appears to have been a near thing.
There is more that unites us. The shame culture, not an exclusive Irish Catholic property but very strong nevertheless, drilled in by the clannishness, the closeness of neighbors, the Catholic religion and by the bloody outsiders- usually but not always Protestants of some sort (as least for blame purposes- you know, the eight hundred years of British tyranny although very real to be sure). All driven by not having nearly enough of this world's goods. Every time I read a passage about the lack of food, the quality of the food, the conditions of the various tenements that the McCourt family lived in, the lack of adequate and clean clothing I cringed at the thoughts from my own childhood. Or the various times when the family was seriously down and out and his mother, the beloved Angela of the title, had to beg charity of one form or another from some institution that existed mainly to berate the poor. I can remember own my mother's plaintive cry when my brothers and I misbehaved that the next step was the county poor farm.
And how about the false pride and skewed order of priorities? Frank's father was a flat out drunk and was totally irresponsible. From a child's perspective, however, he is still your dad and must be given the respect accordingly, especially against the viciousness of the outside world. But life's disappointments for the father also get reflected in the expectations for the son. The dreams are smaller. Here, the horizons are pretty small when a governmental job with its security just above the "dole" is the touchstone of respectability. Sean O'Casey was able to make enduring plays from the slums of Dublin out of this material. And Frank McCourt enduring literature. Thanks, brother.
Note: The movie version of "Angela's Ashes" pretty fairly reflects the intentions of Frank McCourt in his childhood memoirs and follows the book accordingly, without the usual dramatic embellishments of that medium. The story line is so strong it needs no such "touch-ups". Particularly compelling is the very visual sense of utter poverty down at the base of Irish society in Frank McCourt's childhood.
Book Review: Beautiful Memoir....Left Me Wanting More
Summary: 5 Stars
You know how sometimes a book is just so good, when you see you are nearing the end, you want to slow down and savor those last few pages?
Angela's Ashes" by Frank McCourt,was that for me.It is a wonderfully beautiful memoir and an engrossing story. McCourt tells the story of his life as a boy, growing up dirt poor in Ireland. And he tells it in a way that makes it impossible to stop reading. I always had a hard time finding a point to stop turning the pages, I had to know what would happen to Frankie McCourt.
The writing is incredibly honest. It flows from sentence to sentence, paragraph to paragraph,page to page. McCourt puts himself right back into the mind of his younger self, and seems to be talking and thinking just as he would from ages 4 through a young man. He speaks of his family. His father that couldn't keep his wages in his pocket on pay day, and could not make it home without stopping for a pint(or two) along the way. Yet a man who seemed to understand his young sons, and always had what seemed sage advice and a great love for his children. His mother's suffering, with the loss of children dyeing, trying to make do for her family by begging, and did whatever it took to keep her children warm and fed. He writes quite honestly, about his schooling, his relatives,the many illnesses he and the family went through, his taking to petty thefts to keep from starving, discovering his sexuality, the jobs he had to do, and his great desire to go back to America, where he was born.
The stories are sad, and will tug at your heartstrings, but the humor he uses in describing the sometimes dehumanizing events(having to empty and clean disgusting chamber pots among them) make this a stand out read instead of a woe-is-me theme.The characters jump off the page, you can hear them speak with their thick Irish accents, or in some cases New York. He writes of all the doors that were closed in his face, when he needed help, but you can feel the tenacity with which he continued to move his life forward. There are many laugh out loud moments of little Frankie's adventures, and other times you may need to have the Kleenex handy.One thing for sure, you'll be thinking of Little Frankie McCourt for a long time after the read. Through thick and thin(mostly thin) this was a family rich with love. A love that is contagious.
I am very much looking forward to reading the next books, "Tis" and "Teacher Man", the "sequels".Thanks Mr. McCourt, for a wonderful time, spent with you and your family in Ireland.
Enjoy the Read....Laurie
also recommended:
Patient the True Story of a Rare Illne
Kirk Douglas The Ragman's Son An Autobiography
On the Road (Essential Penguin)
Book Review: a great account
Summary: 5 Stars
After seeing how many reviews "Angela's Ashes" have, I was hesitating if I should add my own. At the end, I decided to do so, without reading the other reviews. Maybe I will repeat things already said, but I wanted to express my opinion because this book deserves all the good words it gets.
Memoir is an increasingly popular type of prose - essentially, everyone feels they can write a memoir. And this is true, of course. The difficult thing, which not just anyone can achieve, is writing a good memoir, which would stand out of the crowd. Frank McCourt succeeded in this respect.
"Angela's Ashes" describe the the author's memories from his earliest years until he is nineteen. His family is central to the book, which starts when his parents, Angela and Malachy, meet, they live in Brooklyn, where Frank, his brother Malachy, the twins and the sister are born. Then it follows the family through the deaths of several children, the return to Ireland, the fight with objective difficulties as well as the personal faults, Frank's illnesses, observations, the life of the street children and poor people in Limerick, Frank's school years during the World War II, until his travel back to America. The family is, in a way, a typical Irish family with a curse of alcoholism hanging over it, with the history of Ireland present at every moment, with the respect for Irish tradition and Catholic church, with poverty and daily struggle. But despite the accurate descriptions of the shortcomings of his parents, and a great dose of bitterness and criticism, McCourt manages to show his affection towards them and leave the reader without doubt as to his love for both of them. The insights into the society, system and life of the community are very accurate and sharp as well.
The book, written from a position of the child growing up, which is reflected in the language and imagery, evokes powerful emotions. So strong, that it brigs tears to the eyes and leaves the reader in wonder. There is, however, a fair share of humor especially later in the book, so everything is well balanced yet natural.
The Pullitzer prize was, in this case, deserved. I heartily recommend "Angela's Ashes" and will definitely read (and review) "'Tis".
Book Review: Angela's Ashes: a History Lesson through the Eyes of a Child
Summary: 5 Stars
The youth of Frank McCourt is one that I would never wish upon any other human being. Often starving or ill, his whole family is disjoint and falling apart whether in Brooklyn, New York or Limerick, Ireland. His father's alcoholism and his younger siblings' mortality rate both enrage and soften the reader of this tremendous memoir. He constantly captures these moments of his childhood wonderfully in his seven-year-old voice. His description of his father's desire for his sons to die for Ireland is almost comically scary,
"He's pushing in our door and singing, And if, when all a vigil keep, The West's asleep, The West's asleep! Alas! And well my Erin weep, That Connnacht lies in slumber deep, But hark! A voice like thunder spake `The West's awake! The West's awake! Sing, Oh hurrah, let England quake, We'll watch till death for Erin's sake'" (111).
The way that McCourt captures the voice of his drunken, patriotic father is heartbreakingly wonderful. Telling the whole story through his own eyes as he grows up himself adds a level to the storytelling that few other authors can mimic. If you liked Mary Karr's The Liars' Club, you will love Angela's Ashes in the same way. Both Karr and McCourt capture the voice of a child perfectly. Another thing that McCourt does with scenes like this is to present to the reader the rich passion his father has for Ireland and set the scene of his childhood even better. As Karr did with her father's loyalty to Texas, McCourt does with his father's obsession with his homeland. Both of them use specific scenes with each parent to really deliver the story of their lives. Angela's Ashes blew me away and I would recommend it to anyone.
Book Review: A tough and gloomy poverty- stricken Irish childhood told in authentic language
Summary: 5 Stars
The first one - hundred pages of this memoir tell of Frank McCourt's first years in New York. They tell of his two tough aunts forcing his less than responsible - father to marry their mother. The sainted Irish mother Angela suffers through the incredible failure of her husband to provide for her and the children. McCourt is a master of retelling situations in the language of the time and people . On Clausen Street in Brooklyn in their cold-water flat his mother struggles to raise him, his younger brothers Malachy, and younger twin-brothers and little sister- Margeret. The deaths of the little girl in America send the dismayed father and family back to Ireland . But his own parents have no room for him.
And the saga of misery continues in wet and cold Limerick. There the twins die, and two more children are born. And the story of the irresponsible father preaching Irish Nationalism, singing and dreaming to his sons but providing nothing for the table of the family, continues.
This is a hard- knocks story and is told with a hard- edged authenticity.
The book has been a tremendously popular one. I think I understand why because the sense of hardship and the sound of the language seem real. But in truth the tale of misery and suffering was for me a gloomy one, and the book thus a far less enjoyable read than I thought it would be.