Review: Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt

Angela's Ashes is a memoir describing life growing up in Limerick, Ireland, soon after winning independence from England. Frank McCourt praises his mother, Angela, for raising 4 boys with (or without) a drunken father who is perpetually losing jobs and sends no money to the family. He can see his boys have barely any food and a few rags for clothing, yet he can't muster the courage to quit the pint. Angela manages to keep their lives afloat while reminding them to be strong, even though she finds it difficult herself, having lost 3 children to illnesses that most likely could have been avoided with the funds for proper medical care, warm housing and nourishment. McCourt doesn't idolize his mother, however, and still points out her flaws honestly.

McCourt summarizes his memoir in this way:
"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."

This serves as a proper introduction to this book. It is difficult to believe he survived into his 20s. He dealt with typhoid, horrendous pinkeye that lasted for several years, barely a few slices of fried bread each week, and torn rags for clothes spring through winter. He was no special boy, and knew that he had more than some children in his school. Though his shoes were mended with pieces of tire, at least he had them. He wanted to go to school no more than any other child. He just wanted to work and provide for his family the way his father had not.

This book is written mostly in stream of consciousness. Not much punctuation, but written the way a child would think. It makes it easy to get inside his head and feel all the anxiety and anger he feels. He perseveres to reach his goal of making it back to America, where he was born and lived until he was 4 or 5, and escape the poverty-ridden Ireland that England left behind. McCourt embraces his religion, though not the priests who run it. Many of them tell people to feel blessed to be poor, while enjoying banquets and comforts in their own homes. While some priests are kind and forgiving, others call the boys evil in confession and he fears being rejected and left for hell if he admits too much.

I was completely engrossed in this book and could hardly put it down. It's a pretty exciting read throughout. I found myself pulled into the Irish culture, starting to call beers pints by the end and cursing with the word "fecking" instead of the usual.

I was pleased to reach a part in the book where McCourt encounters Shakespeare, but only one line's worth. In any case, he finds it to be the most beautiful line he has ever read. He says "...it's like having jewels in my mouth when I say the words." He didn't really know what the words meant since he was only 11 at the time. The line is "I do believe, induced by potent circumstances that thou art mine enemy" said by Catherine, Henry the 8th's wife.

My favorite line from the book is "It's lovely to know the world can't interfere with the inside of your head." It's a good lesson to take from the book as a whole. The other feeling I take from this book is utter confusion and sadness at the way McCourt's father, Malachy, treated his family. I can't understand how a man could drink away the only money his family receives to survive off of for a whole week in one day. He just sits at the bar, even with his son telling him to stop drinking the money for the baby's milk, and drinks pint after pint until all the money is gone. He seems to have no remorse. He refuses to ask for handouts because he feels it is unmanly and beneath him. Eventually, he goes off to England where the jobs are and sends money home maybe once. Then they just don't hear from him. The other men who return say he drinks the money away, loses homes and loses jobs, having no regard for the family he abandoned back in Ireland. I just don't understand how a person could do that. I guess that's alcoholism for you.

I only wish I could find more photos of McCourt's family at that time than the one that is in my edition of the book. Of course, this would be difficult since they were very poor and it was so long ago. If anyone finds one other than the photo of McCourt and his classmates in front of Leamy's school, let me know. Oh, and read the book. Definitely worth it. I found my copy for just $3 at Book Gallery West on 16th and 43rd. It's a great place to find cheap books if you're willing to sift.