by Frank McCourt
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Editorial Review"When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I managed to survive 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." So begins the luminous memoir of Frank McCourt, born in Depression-era Brooklyn to recent Irish immigrants and raised in the slums of Limerick, Ireland. Frank's mother, Angela, has no money to feed the children since Frank's father, Malachy, rarely works, and when he does he drinks his wages. Yet Malachy-- exasperating, irresponsible and beguiling-- does nurture in Frank an appetite for the one thing he can provide: a story. Frank lives for his father's tales of Cuchulain, who saved Ireland, and of the Angel on the Seventh Step, who brings his mother babies. Perhaps it is story that accounts for Frank's survival. Wearing rags for diapers, begging a pig's head for Christmas dinner and gathering coal from the roadside to light a fire, Frank endures poverty, near-starvation and the casual cruelty of relatives and neighbors--yet lives to tell his tale with eloquence, exuberance and remarkable forgiveness. Angela's Ashes, imbued on every page with Frank McCourt's astounding humor and compassion, is a glorious book that bears all the marks of a classic. "Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood," writes Frank McCourt in Angela's Ashes. "Worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood." Welcome, then, to the pinnacle of the miserable Irish Catholic childhood. Born in Brooklyn in 1930 to recent Irish immigrants Malachy and Angela McCourt, Frank grew up in Limerick after his parents returned to Ireland because of poor prospects in America. It turns out that prospects weren't so great back in the old country either--not with Malachy for a father. A chronically unemployed and nearly unemployable alcoholic, he appears to be the model on which many of our more insulting cliches about drunken Irish manhood are based. Mix in abject poverty and frequent death and illness and you have all the makings of a truly difficult early life. Fortunately, in McCourt's able hands it also has all the makings for a compelling memoir.
Customer Reviews:
- Avg. Customer Rating: 4.5 / 5.0
- Depressing - Those Poor Children
I read this story for a book club, and that sense of accountability was the main reason that I finished it.
The McCourt family's life did not have to be so bad, and the children did not have to be malnourished.
I know we have no right to judge others, but how could the parents keep spending what little they had on alcohol and cigarettes and give the babies sugar water to quiet them when they were hungry? Didn't the children deserve some kind of priority? Didn't this constitute child neglect?more info
- Trust Me
I was loaned this book by a friend. He told me just to "trust him" and read it. I was hesitant and wasn't sure if I would like this book, but now you can "trust me". If you have any interest at all in Ireland, culture, sociology, or that particular time period you will love this insightful memoir. This book will stay with you, and after only a dozen pages you will be hooked and unable to put it down.
- Solid, but could have been great
The basic problem with it is that while McCourt's life of poverty in Ireland is interesting and there are a couple of dozen well written passages and anecdotes, the work is atrociously edited. All the more galling for the lack of good editing is that this was McCourt's first book- he needed the help. The book is about 450 pages long and the 1st 300 pages deal with his first 6 or so years of growing up. We get the same images of infant death, Irish blarney, drunken dad, suffering mom, stalwart Frankie, and... more info
- ANGELA'S ASHES By Frank McCourt
July 1999.
That summer was blistering hot and full of anticipation. Waiting for my beautiful son to arrive into our arms from Korea.
I had just finished up working full time in a children's Day Treatment program. I wanted the summer to "nest"...
to prepare for my son's arrival.
I spent the past two years of my social work career, day after day, listening to the stories of children.
Suffering.
And when permitted the children would allow me to enter their world and join them on... more info
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