I have an elderly Irish friend, who just loved Frank McCourt, and often says that "Angela's Ashes" is quite similar to his own story. He didn't have a pair of shoes till he was about 10 - and remembers the day his village was wired for electricity. His stories gave "Angela's Ashes" very real resonance for me.
Oh, Grim Reaper, how busy you've been lately. I can't keep up with the latest number of 'threes' it's been. How about you knock it off for a little while and let us keep some of the good ones around a little bit longer?
'Tis is highly underrated in my opinion. My theory is that he discussed the kinds of topics that Gawker often treats, such as the effect of class, and it was troubling to his upper middle class reviewers.
Sure, he was bitter, but it was understandable, and he owned it. His portrait of himself, while not fully detailed, was pretty unflattering and more honest than in most memoirs.
I love one of the documentaries in which he says that for half his life he wanted nothing more than to be middle class. When he finally made it there, with a decent job and a nice middle class wife and home, he realized he wanted adventure.
Not one to pull rank, and thats not the right word, but my parents are Irish of McCourt's generation and they never, never spoke of how hard life was. Their deprivations manifested in strange ways with their American children, of which I am the fifth of six. The horrors of being so poor, so misunderstood in their Irish childhood -- though my parents weren't quite as bad off, but the thinking patterns and routines, etc, were the same as Angela's Ashes, and my mother refused to read it. I did, and am better off from doing so. Kudos to you that had him as a teacher, sounds like he did a great job.
I'm not surprised your mother refused to read it. In a documentary, McCourt said that his mother would have been mortified by Angela's Ashes. Absolutely, sink-into-the-ground mortified.
As you know, the good people of Limerick weren't too happy either, although they got over it.
@1.1.1.: My mother couldn't get through Angela's Ashes either.
It evoked too many sad memories for her. She was born in Cork but experienced nowhere near the poverty described in AA. There must be a common sadness if you're an Irishwoman of a certain age.
@MartinaO: Along with many other factors, I do think "Angela's Ashes" forced a certain reckoning in Ireland, a certain facing up to the past in a searing, honest way. Yes, it was that bad, and yes, the Church was brutish and abusive. Along with the Church scandals, the rise of technology and the Internet, "Angela's Ashes" in a way helped Ireland face and heal the past in the 1990's, helped Ireland to jump into the 21st century. Speaking honestly of the misery, wiping away the dishonesty and excuses, facing uncomfortable truths.. McCourt's book was a painful spur to this self-reckoning in Ireland. But a damned positive one- the young Irish especially deserve to be free of the lies and hypocrisy of the past, no matter if older folks resent McCourt's airing unpleasant truths. Let them soar.
To the responders: Mortified is such a perfect word for that generation of Irish, it acknowledges their huge, massive, almost crippling distress, without actually saying there is something that they can acknowledge is wrong. MORT-i-fied! (eyes roll to heaven) McCourt opened up a lot of second-generation (child of immigrants) eyes, I happen to be younger as I'm on the end of the family, but my parents would NEVER speak of the hard times-- then McCourt puts it to paper, and its all "ah, sure, so, it was what it was" Thanks Frank, for telling the one Irish fairytale that was probably true. Gave me a world of insight, fairies or not.
Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company.
And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.
Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away,
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,
I will gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"
"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."
When I read that, I thought, I have to send this to my siblings.
RIP, with affection and sorrow at the news. A fine writer, an honest soul, someone who gave his best as a teacher to our great city of New York. And gratifyingly got his due, later in life. No young hotshot novelist, he earned it in the school of life, with a beautiful, lifelong love of language. Here's to you, Mr. McCourt.
He was my high school english teacher,,,Teacher Man,,,was about us,,,i always wanted to meet him again,,a kind and gentle man,,i will pray a Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet for his soul,,he will be missed,,,rest in peace,,,m.m.
McCourt was the commencement speaker at my college graduation. His speech was so witty and honest. I'd read Angela's Ashes in high school, but it was wonderful to hear him speak.
If you've never read McCourt, but don't feel like going through all the depressing Irish sadness of his first two books, Teacher Man - probably his least read book - is utterly fantastic. Also, if you ever had an English teacher you loved, it's a must-read.
@eleusiswalks:It starts out depressing as hell and then it gets extremely funny. Try it again. Do not be put off by the misery in the beginning. I think it's one of the most wonderful books ever written. Not a lot of authors can have you bawling at the beginning of a book, laughing in the middle, and weeping again -- but with joy -- by the end.
Through some really random and unexpected events, I was working on a coffee table book that Mr McCourt wrote and my company put out, dedicated to the firefighters in 2001/2002 after 9/11. I was literally a kid at the time - and somehow ended up in the crew room of a firehouse preceding a press interview having lunch with Tom Brokaw and Frank McCourt.
Just me - and them, it was something that just 'happened' and couldn't have been more special.
Here I was, dying to him questions about his life, his career, his experiences; ANYTHING & he was much happier asking me about me and my silly little entry level job and what I wanted to do next. "Frank" & "Tom" told me some stories, gave me some amazing advice and really listened to what I had to say. That lunch reigns in my mind as one of the most fantastically bizarre and special experiences I have had.
07/20/09
07/20/09
07/19/09
07/19/09
Slán go fóill, Mr. McCourt.
07/19/09
Sure, he was bitter, but it was understandable, and he owned it. His portrait of himself, while not fully detailed, was pretty unflattering and more honest than in most memoirs.
I love one of the documentaries in which he says that for half his life he wanted nothing more than to be middle class. When he finally made it there, with a decent job and a nice middle class wife and home, he realized he wanted adventure.
07/19/09
07/19/09
I'm not surprised your mother refused to read it. In a documentary, McCourt said that his mother would have been mortified by Angela's Ashes. Absolutely, sink-into-the-ground mortified.
As you know, the good people of Limerick weren't too happy either, although they got over it.
07/19/09
It evoked too many sad memories for her. She was born in Cork but experienced nowhere near the poverty described in AA. There must be a common sadness if you're an Irishwoman of a certain age.
07/19/09
07/19/09
To the responders: Mortified is such a perfect word for that generation of Irish, it acknowledges their huge, massive, almost crippling distress, without actually saying there is something that they can acknowledge is wrong. MORT-i-fied! (eyes roll to heaven) McCourt opened up a lot of second-generation (child of immigrants) eyes, I happen to be younger as I'm on the end of the family, but my parents would NEVER speak of the hard times-- then McCourt puts it to paper, and its all "ah, sure, so, it was what it was" Thanks Frank, for telling the one Irish fairytale that was probably true. Gave me a world of insight, fairies or not.
07/19/09
And the trees are sweetly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
grows around the blooming heather.
Chorus:
Will you go, lassie, go?
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather,
Will you go lassie, go?
I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain,
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain.
If my true love, she won't have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
Oh, the summer time is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
07/19/09
And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.
Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away,
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,
I will gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"
07/19/09
When I read that, I thought, I have to send this to my siblings.
One of them beat me to it, writing:
"Maybe there's hope for us."
07/19/09
07/19/09
07/19/09
07/19/09
After I read Angela's Ashes I dove deep into exploring my Irish heritage. I wasn't disappointed. Such a great man.
07/19/09
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07/19/09
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07/19/09
07/19/09
07/19/09
07/19/09
07/14/09
Just me - and them, it was something that just 'happened' and couldn't have been more special.
Here I was, dying to him questions about his life, his career, his experiences; ANYTHING & he was much happier asking me about me and my silly little entry level job and what I wanted to do next. "Frank" & "Tom" told me some stories, gave me some amazing advice and really listened to what I had to say. That lunch reigns in my mind as one of the most fantastically bizarre and special experiences I have had.