Lo es

I guess we all know that Frank McCourt's life turned out pretty well, being a published prizewinning author and all that. But if we didn't know how his story ends, we would be left with the fact that he was a pretty sorry soul who was forever not saying what he wanted to say and forever following in his father's drunken footsteps. He haplessly falls into situation after situation that are entirely joyless, and looses women and opportunities to the bottle. Angela's Ashes was lovely storytelling artfully accomplished through the eyes of a boy. But 'Tis had nothing that special going for it. 'Tis was made blurry though the "bad eyes" of an alcoholic. 'Twas a disappointment for this McCourt fan.

Esta lectura dista mucho de lo que suelo leer habitualmente, pero de vez en cuando hay cositas que me llaman la atención y con las que he acertado siempre.
Ésta es la continuación de Las cenizas de Ángela en la que el protagonista nos cuenta desde su visión de niño como es la vida en un callejón de un pueblo de Irlanda. Ahora nos cuenta sus vivencias desde que llega a Nueva York con 19 años. Nos cuenta situaciones que nos parecerían a priori rídiculas u obvias pero que son tan reales como la vida misma. Nadie nos enseña si vivimos en un pueblo pobre como afrontar la gran ciudad o como debemos actuar al bañarnos cuando compartimos un retrete con todas las personas que viven en un callejón.
Si tuviera que definirla con una frase sería: el que la sigue la consigue

The sequel to Angela's Ashes. A really good read but doesn't quite measure up to the first book, which, literally, blew me away.

Angela's Ashes, deixoume unhas expectativas altísimas. Agora, o protagonista deixou Limerick, Irlanda, para emigrar aos EEUU, e perdeu a inocencia inicial. Isto influíu en que non a desfrutara tanto como a primeira parte. Con todo, o autor non deixou atrás o seu humor tan característico e seguiume interesando coñecer o camiño do protagonista. Quizais sería máis preciso un 3.5/5.

Many years ago, I was warned by our Irish parish priest not to bother reading Frank McCourt's books. He said they weren't true. So here I am, missing that brogue, as our friend has died. I dove into the audio versions. They did not disappoint. Frank McCourt's prose is true poetry. Whether or not he played with the facts is another matter.

As with most Irish story-tellers, McCourt's memories were probably embellished for effect as they were retold. I'll forgive him that, knowing that his overall perception of his experience was accurate. One thing the McCourt brothers had going for them was charm. Frank also had a profound insatiable love of literature and a fascination for people, no matter their walks in life. How did he manage to escape the slums of Limerick to the slums of New York and then on to university without ever going to high school? the answer is charm and a passion.

So take the facts with a grain of salt. Choose the audio version and enjoy his voice.

This is the second of Frank McCourt’s trilogy of memoirs, but I read them out of order, so it’s the last for me. It has some of the childhood reminiscences of n  Angela's Ashesn and even more of the teaching remembrances of Teacher Man, but mostly it’s about Frank’s journey from blue collar autodidact to college-educated professional. There’s also a bit about how he repeated his father’s mistakes and destroyed his marriage by drinking too much. For those parts, I was thinking, “No, Frank, no!” so I can only imagine how painful it must have been for him to write about. But because of those sections, I didn’t like this book as much as the other two. Even still, Frank McCourt’s voice is so poignant and funny, I can’t give him anything less than 5 stars.

Above all, his message is that of an encouraging teacher. What a privilege it must have been to be in his class! Clearly, he lived and breathed literature, but he is saying more than that. Everyone has a story to tell. No matter who you are, no matter how humble your background, if go back to your personal roots, you’ll find something valuable to say and possibly give solace to someone else.

If you loved Angela's Ashes, read the next two books. Frank McCourt is awesome no matter what he writes.

بعید می دونم بشه کتاب اجاق سرد آنجلا رو خوند و فرانک بیچاره رو که بعد از تحمل اون همه فلاکت بالاخره به رویای دور و درازش - زندگی در امریکا - رسیده تو دهه ی دوم زندگیش رها کرد. اینجاست که با اشتیاق برای فرونشوندن حس کنجکاویتون دنبال جلد دوم می گردین

به نظر من ادامه ی ماجرا تو جلد دوم نسبت به جلد اول ضعف های بیشتری داره . لحن ساده و یکنواخت نویسنده تو جلد اول به واسطه ی سن پایین راوی آزاردهنده نیست ولی با بزرگ شدن راوی تو جلد دوم ، لحن روایت نویسنده همون طور ساده باقی می مونه که باور بزرگ شدن فرانک ، ورود به دانشگاه ، معلم شدن ، ازدواج و بچه دار شدن و حتی پیر شدنش رو مشکل می کنه. علاوه بر این جاهایی هم به خاطر این نوشتار یکنواخت و ساده ، روند ماجرا خسته کننده میشه

یکی دیگه از ضعف های کتاب به نظرم ناتوانی نویسنده در برجسته کردن اتفاقات مهم و جداکردن جزئیات از اونهاست. نویسنده با لحن یکنواختش با همون میزان توجهی که مثلا نسبت به ورود به دانشگاهش یا ازدواجش حرف می زنه از دوستی های گذرا یا یه گذران وقت ساده تو یه بار حرف می زنه . به نظرم بهتر بود خیلی از مکالمات و اتفاقات جزیی از روایت نویسنده حذف میشد تا هم توجه و تمرکز خواننده بیشتر جذب بشه و هم از خسته کنندگی بعضی قسمت ها کم بشه

حجم بالایی از جلد دوم به ماجراهای نویسنده از زمان رسیدنش به امریکا تا معلم شدن و سپس ازدواجش اختصاص داره . بعد از اون نویسنده خیلی جزیی و پراکنده حوادثی رو ذکر می کنه که با مرگ مادر و بعد پدرش به پایان می رسه .

به جرات می تونم بگم مک کورتی آدم خوشحال ( یا شاکری!) نبوده . تواناییش در ناله کردن برای بدبختی و فقر و فلاکت زندگی بسیار بالا ولی برای شکرگزاری تغییرات عظیم زندگیش بسیار پایینه . بدون مدرک دبیرستان وارد دانشگاه میشه ، با خوشگل ترین دختر دانشگاه دوست میشه ، از نظافت و باربری به معلمی می رسه ولی همچنان دست از ناله بر نمی داره

ختم کلام این که هر چند دنبال کردن سرنوشت نویسنده تو سرزمین رویایی امریکا و دیدن رشد و پیشرفتش و رسیدن به جایگاه بالا از هیچ بسیار جالبه ، می تونه اثر گذار و امید بخش باشه و یه جورایی قدرت خواستن رو به اثبات برسونه ولی می تونست با قلمی متفاوت از این هم جذاب تر بشه .

My brother was the one who told me to read Frank McCourt’s 1996 Pulitzer-winning memoir Angela’s Ashes. It was one of the books that made me who am I today: a voracious reader.

It took me 12 years before reading its 1999 sequel, ’Tis (short for “It is”). Reason: I wanted to let the cute and innocent boy Frank and his brothers Malachy, Michael and Alphie to stay as long as possible in my mind. I did not want them to grow up. I wanted to hold on to the image of those boys running and walking around the impoverished and dirty street of Limerick searching for coal and food. Angela’s Ashes struck me that much that I wanted the book’s memories to stay so I don’t want to imagine that those boys have grown up into men. In fact, when Frank McCourt (1930-2009) died two years ago (July 19, 2009), I did not want to hear about it. I neither read the article on the paper nor looked him up at the website.

So both succeeding memoirs, ’Tis and Teacher Man (2005) had to wait. When I joined Goodreads in 2009, I added these books. One of my first friends Charles was reading these and he liked ’Tis so much that he also (same as his rating for Angela's)gave it a 5-star rating. I promised him that I would read this too but I still could not let go of Angela’s Ashes memories. My Peter Pan-like behavior still won over my promise. Then Charles had a hiatus in GR and I had another reason to bury these books at the bottom of my tbr heap of books.

Last month, Charles suddenly popped up in GR after two years of absence. Worse, he also said that he would attend our group’s meet up so we will see each other face-to-face. How will I explain to him that I have not yet read ’Tis? So, I looked for this book. No need to romanticize the image of the McCourt boys. Wake up, K.D. and face the reality. People grow up, age and die. These are facts of life. Even if reading provides us the opportunity to create fictional worlds in our minds, facts are facts and Frank McCourt has long been dead.

So, I picked up ’Tis and started reading. Oh I hated the first part. What? The boy Frank is now a young man at 19 years old and left Ireland on MS Irish Oak going to New York? I struggled accepting the truth and could not relate to his grown up experiences: almost becoming a sexual prey by a Catholic priest in a hotel, US Army in Europe as a Corporal, his visit back to Ireland, graduating from NYU despite not finishing high school and his first years as a teacher at McKee Vocational and Technical High School and the prestigious Stuyvesant High School where his secret came out: He is the teacher who never finished high school. The story still retains that old playful and childlike tone that I felt in love with in Angela’s Ashes. McCourt has this uncanny ability of making simple dialogues catchy and witty. His tongue-in-cheek comments about Catholic and sex are just outrageous and can put smile even during gloomy days at home. Gloomy because my daughter had an accident and she is now wearing a shoulder sling, my wife feeling so busy sending and fetching our injured daughter to and from her school, one of the maids is on vacation while the other one is 5-month pregnant with no husband.

However, the second part of the book is awesome. Angela McCourt, the mother pays a visit to her sons in the US: Frank, now a high school teacher, Malachy, a bar owner, Michael, an American soldier and Alphie, living in Manhattan. Then when Angela dies in the US, she is cremated and her ashes are bought back to Ireland and was scattered in some tombs of famous people there. It explains the title of the first book as it reminds me that I had that question before in my mind.

I am glad I finally read this book. Now, I can face Charles and say that I’ve read the book and we can talk about it. And during the discussion, I’ll bear in mind that all these things – the meet ups, the friends we make along the way, my daughter’s injury, my pregnant maid without a husband, etc – all these things will pass. What is important is how we live the present. And as they say, if you should do something, you might as well give it your best. 'Tis your best that you should give life.

n  'Tis.n