Angela’s Ashes - Frank McCourt

In his early age, Francis McCourt had lived in America, the land of the free. The land where his Mother (Angels) and his Father (Frank) had first met and fell in love.

Francis and his younger brother Malachy had to move back to the country where their parents grew up; Ireland, after the death of their younger siblings.

In Limerick, they were raised in a Catholic way.
In Limerick, they were forced to adapt, and endure the mockery of others regarding their American accent, their poor upbringings, their drunken father, etc.
Their childhood in the Catholic town of Ireland was no better than their time in America. If possible, worse. They were living in hunger.

Not only were they poor, they could not rely on the sole bread winner in the family. Any good job their father landed himself on, he will lose over a pint or two at the pub.
He’s definitely not a good father material.
But the children looked up to their father that it hurts the mother, when after a long time after the father chose to work in England and never sent a pence home, had to live with a relative. And he too, took advantage of his role as a host.

Francis and Malachy however, turned out to be quite good your men in such young age managed to provide for their mother, and more, their family of 5.



This book is very touching.
Not in a sense that you will squeeze your tears out. But there are a lot of emotions involved. In a bleak sense of humor, Frank McCourt could really present his life, undisclosed.


This book served its purpose as a memoir. A memoir of a childhood.
But to those who read it, it serves much more than that.
It serves as a metaphor of a difficult life, of how responsibility must be carried out.
It serves as a gentle reminder that no matter how dark your days are, you can still laugh about it, in your later years. No matter how hungry you are, your family is still there, and you should cherish it, you should tend to it, with your utmost effort.

And it too, serves as a constant inspiration, that despite all grief, we can see the silver lining that we can always get out in once piece.



Bravo Frank McCourt. You deserve the Pulitzer prize.
Looking forward to reading the sequel ‘Tis.


(also posted in www.cecolabookclub.blogdrive.com on 27th January 2005)