Review: Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt

I just read Angela’s Ashes, and I had very hig expectations going in, because as far as I understand this book is considered a “new” classic. It won the 1997 Pulitzer Prize and a few other awards, and has a ton of blurbs praising it to the skies.

It is about a young Irish boy and his upbringing, first in New York and then in Limerick, Ireland, in the first half of the 20th century. And that is pretty much it as far as a synopsis goes. 

I had trouble understanding the time line of the story. For some reason I thought Frankie was born much earlier, so I couldn’t understand how they had suddenly reached the 1940s, and he was still just a kid. But I guess I just got mixed up, because the book starts with an account of his father and mother and their families. Once I wrapped my head around that it was fine.

Or as fine as a boring story can be. I think I have this issue with a lot of memoirs in general. Often they just become a parade of events; then the baby was born, then it died, then another baby was born, then we took the ship back to Ireland, then grandmother kicked us out, then another baby was born. I miss exploring the feelings and thoughts of characters other than the protagonist, especially when the protagonist is a child who does not really reflect too much on the events of his life. 

The book says that there is no misery quite like that of the Irish Catholic childhood, and misery does certainly abound in this book. Everything is awful and the family can never seem to catch a break. I assume this is a true story, since it is a memoir, but it just seems a little too convenient that nothing ever goes their way. When anything good happens it is ruined by outside circumstances or people being mean-spirited. And when something good does happen, it is skipped over quite quickly. So it seems like Frank WANTS to linger in the misery. And that just gets a bit boring in the end. 

So I was disappointed in this book, but at least I was not the only one. It seems this one is one of those books that divided the waters. I checked Goodreads after finishing it because I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just me, and a lot of people loved it, but a bunch of people also hated it. 

If you like dreary memoirs detailing the squalor and misery of the poor in Ireland in the first half of the 20th century, go for it. If not, maybe skip this one. 

I gave it 2 out of 5 stars on Goodreads.