Pokračování Andělina popele. Jazyk a styl velmi podobný prvnímu dílu, ale už to nebyla taková soda jako první kniha. Popisuje život hrdiny po tom, co opustil Limerick v Irsku a lodí odjel do vysněné Ameriky.

I liked Angela's Ashes and since the book ended with his making it to America, I was curious about how he ended up becoming a teacher in the states. But uck... 'Tis was just terrible. In Angela's Ashes, Frank was no saint while growing up in Ireland, but it was all forgivable considering the poverty and his being a child and all. But in 'Tis the context is different and so was my reaction. As I read the book I hoped that Frank would finally show some subtle hints of maturity and begin to display some redeemable qualities, but other than his providing money for his mother, I hoped in vain. I got tired of hearing about all the inappropriate places he masturbated, and the woman he violated. I felt like I needed a bath after listening to the unending vulgar comments and the profanity saturated dialogs with other unlikable people throughout the book. Unlike in Angela's Ashes, in 'Tis he really doesn't have a story worth sharing, and there is nothing to endear us to him or caused one to sympathize or give a fiddlers fart about his life. He got through life by lying, and does little but complain. Often he is a selfish and inconsiderate drunk (all too eager to imitate his father in this respect). He was a terrible boyfriend (what was the girl thinking to have anything to do with this creep?), only to become her husband (the poor girl) until he divorced her because she liked antiques and other stupid stuff he wasn't interested in. McCourt, after becoming a teacher, has to let us know things like how he wished that he could go and eff the mothers of students when their husbands were not around. I was actually surprised he didn't share about having sex with his high school students in the janitor's closet, such activity would have seemed consistent with his character.

One thing I did like was some of what he wrote about his first year of teaching. Some of the things his students would say, brought back memories of the kinds of comments and questions one student would pester me with in my first year of teaching.

The sequel to Angela's ashes Ti's is a good read. If you compare it to Angela's ashes though you will be disappointed. Mainly because one is a childhood memoir and as such, everything is perceived from a child's eyes which are innocent, believing and kind.

Ti's shows Frank about the harsh realities of life. he realizes priests lie, people have expectations. I enjoyed his time in the army as well as his teaching days.
He foreshadows the failure of his marriage by repeatedly saying "Marry your own kind"

4.5 stars. I am going backwards in time through Frank McCourt’s memoirs having read Teacher Man a few years ago. That book was given to me as a gift as I started teaching and something about it always stuck with me. I’ve been reading this book over the course of a year and lots of it during a big personal change. The thing I like most about his writing is the humour in his voice. That’s what stuck with me long after reading Teacher Man. He doesn’t put on or affect some great wisdom/teaching. But through his eyes and from all the strange people he meets along the way you can’t help but glean comfort and/or wisdom.

McCourt had a wonderfully distinct voice. Effortlessly charming, humorous and touching... all at the same time. I loved this book.

AL FIN leí el libro y ME LO COMÍ, después de todo lo que lo dilaté, jaja (años)... por motivos cobardes, obvio, de que fuera malo, después de la excelente primera parte ("Las cenizas de Ángela") y que entonces no solo fuera malo este libro, sino que también el primero, y yo no me hubiera dado cuenta, etcétera.

Pero no, todos motivos infundados, porque resulta que era muy bueno. No llega el nivel, a mi parecer, del primero, pero casi... mantiene la gracia, el ingenio, la inocencia en ciertos trazos, pero a veces tiene demasiados detalles, se abarca mucho en poco y otras veces se pasa de la raya con el sentido del humor. Además, en un acto de sinceridad, el autor da a concocer aspectos muy poco atractivos de su personalidad (borracho, insensible, en ocasiones, etcétera) que también causan cierto rechazo, aunque permitan apreciar el paisaje completo.

Pero... es un libro con un montón de cosas muy rescatables y que además deja pensando, en especial, porque de pronto pasan los años volando y uno no sabe si es realmente libro o la vida misma, y entonces viene esa sensación de vorágine.

Yo opino que, lectores (porque es largo), a darle una chance. Este pobre texto carga con el estigma de ser el secundón en orden de nacimiento literario, pero no necesariamente en calidad.

I adored this book and it's predecessor, Angela's Ashes. McCourt is an amazing writer. They way he captures emotion so simply causes the reader to fall in love with each and every flawed character. Never, have I been so sad to see a story end.

What I like best about this memoir is its honesty. Frank McCourt is willing to put his own weaknesses on display, and thereby gives readers a sense that this is an accurate account of his early years as an immigrant.

The writing evokes his Irish brogue, and sometimes (early in the book) that provides light humor. Unfortunately, the style becomes somewhat repetitive and predictable. I was glad when he bean toning that down toward the end. On the other hand, I felt that the book was a bit longer than necessary, particularly with the repetitive accounts of the teacher-student dynamic.

While this is a worthy book, I think as a sequel it's a step down from the purity of Angela's Ashes. When he was a kid growing up in wretched conditions, it was easy to root for him. As a self-obsessed young adult, he doesn't inspire quite the same reaction. I think I'll pass on number 3.

I really loved Angela's Ashes, so I was really excited to read this, but I didn't enjoy this one as much. I can't quite put my finger on why, because I was still interested in the subject matter, but it just seemed choppier to me and less in depth I guess. It was still good though and I'm looking forward to reading Teacher Man.

Meh. Angela's Ashes was wonderful, lots of history mixed in with the memoir, and so emotionally engaging. This one was a lot more memoir and not so much history, and far too much detail about his sex life and frequent masturbation (though he does, amusingly, refer to the latter as "interfering with himself"). The beautiful Irish voice still comes through, so it's pleasant to read even when the subject matter becomes pedestrian, and there are a few brilliant moments: my favorite is when, as a first-time teacher struggling to teach English to a class of uninterested teens, he finds an old stash of essays the previous teacher had left in a closet. When these essays turn out to have been written by the kids' parents, uncles, cousins, etc., McCourt sets them to copying the decaying pages so they won't be lost--and connects the project to them by pointing out that their children might someday want to read about their lives. Based on this, I think McCourt's other book Teacher Man might be more my thing.

McCourt's books are better listened to when narrated by the author than physically read. (I listened to the 1st one on audio, and was so eager for the follow up that I grabbed the paper copy for a physical read). While always rooting for McCourt as life's ultimate underdog, his written word comes across as one long run on sentence - however there are some treasures within: "I visited him regularly because an hour with him was better than movies, television, and most books".
Indeed there are these treasured people in our lives, and we should spend more hours with them. I am certain McCourt would agree.

What a disappointment this book was! After reading the powerful and heart-wrenching Angela's Ashes, I foolishly assumed that if there was a sequel to be written, it would be the author sharing with us some form of wisdom learned from the anguish of growing up with an alcoholic and abandoning father.

Instead what we get is one disgusting anecdote after another of McCourt masturbating in the restaurant bathroom in between bussing tables, masturbating in a public park with children around, lying about his credentials in order to get a job as a teacher, and--most inexplicable of all--abandoning his own family for ultimately no better reason than sheer lack of integrity.

Not only was this book an utter waste of my time, but it also virtually ruined for me what good feelings I had about Angela's Ashes. Ashes was written as a tribute to a mother who sacrificed everything on behalf of her children. 'Tis is a self-indulgent piece of garbage written by someone who seems to have learned nothing from his mother.