2013 Book Review #73: Angela's Ashes

[jethrien]

Title: Angela's Ashes
Author: Frank McCourt
Genre: Autobiography
Thingummies: 5

Synopsis: Growing up during the Depression in Ireland sucked.

Thoughts: So being a new parent, I've been reading a lot of parenting books lately. Between that and just being exposed in general to advice to new parents, it's very easy to find yourself questioning your choices and feeling like a bad parent. Anyone who wonders if they're up to the task should read this feel-bad book for their feel-good of the year; I'm now rather reassured that there is no possible way I could ever be as bad a parent as these people.

McCourt warns very near the beginning of this book that his was not a happy childhood. And he's not kidding. There are worse, of course--he's not really significantly abused. But the alcoholic father who can't hold a job and drinks away nearly every penny of dole money and the hapless, hopeless mother who's eventually reduced to begging and sleeping with an obnoxious invalid for shelter add up to a bitterly poor childhood. McCourt and his siblings are literally starving for most of this book. Actually, the dedication of the book is a spoiler--literally half his siblings die in early childhood, probably from cold and malnourishment, and you can figure out which ones make it by who's left living to have the book dedicated to them. And it's not just the uselessness of the neglectful parents--the small-minded ignorance, pettiness, and superstition of the townsfolk is equally horrifying. There's the crabs-in-a-bucket mentality that pulls down anyone who tries to better themselves. There's the authoritarianism that keeps anyone from raising questions or trying to think. There's the despotism of the Catholic Church. Most of the people surrounding McCourt of desperately ignorant and trying very hard to make sure everyone around them stays that way.

And yet, it's still an incredibly engaging read. McCourt has a fantastically wry wit that he turns, with some bitterness, against his oppressors. And the results are often hilarious. He's also got a sweet sentimental streak that's genuinely touching. And there's a certain lyricism that comes of an Irish gift of blarney combined with a love of poetry. I can easily see why he won a Pulitzer. And the way he ends the book is perfect unto catharsis.

Comments

[trinityvixen.livejournal.com]

I've thought about reading this a few times, for the writing, but the subject matter is so depressing. I feel bad for writing off good writing, but with my limited reading time/inclination, I drift away from stuff like this. Maybe I'll revisit it.

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

That is a completely legitimate reason. Look, we've all got limited time to work with--you shouldn't feel bad for using your leisure time to do what you actually want to do, rather than what you feel like you ought to do.