“When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I survived at all. It was of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.”
~Frank McCourt
Angela’s Ashes
Do you ever feel you have a rough life? Everyone has experienced this feeling of self-pity and sympathy but after reading this memoir I doubt I’ll ever experience that feeling again. Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt is a powerful memoir that will bring tears to your eyes, make you laugh out loud and make you count your blessings. McCourt recalls his childhood memories of growing up in poverty in gloomy damp Limerick, Ireland in the 1930s and 1940s with a drunk for a father, an over whelmed pious mother, an ever expanding family of mouths to feed, pretentious priests and many “arseholes”. His story comes full circle as he describes his life from when his parents first met at a bar in New York to his heart wrenching childhood in Limerick to his struggle to fill his father’s void place as the provider of the family to his return to America, the land of opportunity age nineteen.
This memoir about poverty is ironically very rich in every other sense. McCourt has a strong voice, sharp wit and a remarkable memory. The way McCourt remembers the little minor things about his childhood like his father’s drunken request that he be prepared to die for Ireland, the petty childhood jealousy of his golden child of a brother, Malachy, or dubbing the warm dry second floor of their house “Italy” will stir up sentiments about your own childhood. Through intense imagery he recalls haunting images such as his mother smoking a Woodbine trying to rouse the ashes of the fire while her children are running in the lane and her husband is out spending the dole money on a pint. The colloquial diction like “kiss my arse” “bloody disgrace” “ ’tis” and “take’in a piss” in Angela’s Ashes is charmingly from the slums of Ireland.
The beautiful thing about this memoir is McCourt’s humor enlightens the heavy depressing tone of the tale. This is the first book that I’ve ever read and laughed out loud until tears came to my eyes (my sisters saw me do this and thought it was the most peculiar thing.) For example on Frank’s Communion day, a typically deeply religious and serious day, his grandmother proudly makes him a large breakfast only for him to vomit it all over her yard. His grandmother is hysterically screaming “I have God in me backyard.” And orders him to talk to the priest and find out what he should do. After explaining his story to the priest who tries to hide his muffled laughter, he is instructed to clean it up with water. His grandmother isn’t satisfied with this answer and sends him back to the confessional to ask whether to use ordinary water or holy water. Little incidences like this plague Frank but uplift the feeling of the book.
Everyone should read this book. It will change your perspective on what’s truly important in life and how things could always be worse. For instance I’ve always associated hunger with that grumbling noise my stomach makes before dinner but after this book hunger has a whole new meaning. I’ve never had to beg for food or have been ecstatic to eat a pig’s head. The hardships Frank McCourt endured will pass on a new found appreciation for our modern lifestyle, our country and our family to future generations through his memoirs. McCourt describes how he discovered his knack for writing and dream to be a teacher in this book and carries it out his other memoirs, ‘Tis and Teacher Man. I highly recommend buying the audio version of his books which are actually read by the author, Frank McCourt; it just makes the story even more touching. Now matter what format you read the book in, I guarantee this book will touch your heartstrings and offer a fresh perspective on life.
Awwwww! I'm so glad you liked it! It would be a “bloody disgrace” if you didn't.... :-)
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