Achei o tom do livro demasiado leve para quem viveu tanta miséria. Achei que talvez pudesse ter havido alguma manipulação do leitor. Li algures que isto seria um acto de coragem por parte do autor, escrever assim, de modo tão despojado de ressentimento ou de zanga, quase tragicómico, sobre a sua própria infância tão terrível. Seriam certamente as cinco estrelas se o livro não fosse anunciado como autobiográfico. Resumindo, senti algo de estranho no tom da escrita, algo que não batia certo. Fiquei com um travo agridoce de que não gostei quando acabei de ler e não vou ler mais livros biográficos do Frank McCourt.

A GR's friend mentioned this book. I 'have' read it. (huge impact on me). I must have read it before I joined GR's.

There are already many wonderful reviews written here ---but for those who have not read it yet - I highly recommend it!

4,5*. Ce carte apăsătoare și grea! Daca macar jumătate din carte e adevărat, o Doamne ce viață amară duc unii oameni pe Pământ. Irlanda cea veșnică umeda și friguroasa, sărăcie crasă, boli care duc copii la groapă, tați bețivi și iresponsabili, mame terminate de greutăți și lipsuri, toate sunt adunate în acest roman autobiografic deosebit, distins cu Premiul Pulitzer.

Одна из лучших книг в моей жизни. Буду перечитывать и всем советовать. Это как «отверженные», «замок из стекла» и «бесконечные дни» только ещё лучше!

Ревью напишу попозже.

I tried to read this about ten years ago and gave up after the first chapter - I just couldn't connect with it. This time around was a completely different story. I loved the way Frank McCourt writes, it's lyrical and beautiful even while describing a very bleak situation. His childhood is one of poverty--- siblings die, his father is a drunk, there is never enough food, the housing sounds appalling. It's a very depressing book, as this was the reality for so many people, but there are also moments of humour and sweetness.
I'll be reading the second volume soon as I am very invested in Frank's journey.

Me ha sorprendido mucho que la historia estuviese narrada por el autor “niño” es decir no narrada por él ya de mayor explicando su infancia, sino por el niño mismo. Eso ha dado a la narración cierto toque de humor, y teniendo en cuenta que es una historia dura pero que muy dura, no puedes evitar que ciertos comentarios del Frank niño te saquen una sonrisa.

No me queda otra que poner en la lista de pendientes la continuación "Lo es".

Frank McCourt, não precisou puxar pela cabeça para escrever um livro repleto de ingredientes que lhe garantissem sucesso imediato, bastou-lhe desfiar as memórias da infância passada nos bairros pobres de Limerick, na Irlanda.
Quis a sorte (ou o azar) que tivesse nascido numa família regada a cerveja, reinante na ignorância e na miséria, abençoados e condenados por um catolicismo fervoroso. A educação - em casa e na escola - era feita na base da chapada pedagógica, desde cedo que os miúdos aprendiam a defender-se e a desenrascar-se por sua conta.
O brilhantismo do autor está na façanha de fazer deste ror de misérias uma história emocionante que ultrapassa qualquer ficção, de a ter contado com graça e ternura quando tinha todas as razões para se deixar levar pelo rancor. Com um sentido de humor extraordinário conta-nos a sua vida dos quatro aos dezanove anos. Anos de fome e desamor, mas também de momentos mágicos que só na inocência da infância se conseguem desfrutar.
Um livro maravilhoso que se lê sempre com sorriso. Fez-me rir, fez-me chorar, às vezes as duas coisas ao mesmo tempo.

Recebeu vários prémios literários de relevo: o Pulitzer de 1997, O National Book Award, e o Los Angeles Times Award.
Mereceu-os todos!

Angela’s Ashes is a beautifully written, painfully honest account of Frank McCourt’s childhood in Limerick, Ireland.

Frank’s parents, both Irish, met in New York and began their family there. McCourt himself was born in New York, but this was in the 1930s and the depression hurt everyone and everywhere, especially immigrant Irish with no resources.

So back to Ireland they go to live near his maternal grandmother. 1930s Limerick was not much better than New York, especially for Frank’s father who spoke with a “north of Ireland accent”.

Succinctly stated, the novel begins with this statement: “Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood”.

Told with equal parts humor and sobriety, this swings rapidly from hilarious to heartbreaking. A good book.

Angela's Ashes was really not the sort of book I would enjoy. In fact, I found that the further it progressed, the less enthusiastic I became. McCourt uses the modern technique of describing the protagonist's struggles and life day by day. The intention is to make his own unique experiences feel universal because people look past each individual day and look at it as a whole, and see the supposedly universal themes.

However, I am not a believer or practitioner of this contemporary writing style. Excruciating detail of daily life is not a brilliant writing style; in my opinion, it is exactly what it is: excruciating. Sure, the stories and people were interesting/tragic/funny at first, but when the same mundane themes keep repeating themselves, it grows dull very fast.

I understand the tragedy, humor, beauty McCourt wants us to see in his childhood, I just wish he wasn't so repetitive about it, because as I said, the tactic of excessive day-by-day writing gets old quite fast, making this book a less than enjoyable read.

And for the love of God, PLEASE introduce Mr.McCourt to quotation marks. Not a single one used in the entirety of the memoir. I'm not interested in how fanciful or unique that writing style is. It's damn annoying.

In conclusion, Frank McCourt is a skilled writer, with very deep themes, and good stories to write about. However, his style of writing makes for a less-than-enjoyable experience that leaves the reader overwhelmed and frustrated. I would only recommend this book to people who want to read slow, emotional, stories about living in poverty.

I will confess here and now that all along my reading of Frank McCourt’s book, Angela’s Ashes I was trying to catch the hidden meaning of the title, only to find out (long live Wikipedia ) that the author simply inverted the titles of his two memoirs, since this one finishes with the word “’Tis” and the other, which is called ‘Tis, with the scattering of Angela McCourt’s ashes on the shores of Ireland. Now I don’t know whether Frank McCourt was joking or not when he provided his readers with this blasphemous (for his fans, at least) piece of information, but one cannot deny it is as good an explanation as any, more profound, other

Ah Mr. McCourt is on my short list of people I would love to meet, especially after watching him on PBS doing a pub crawl show around Ireland. He seems like a man I could share a pint with and hear great stories in an Irish brogue. Ashes broke my heart and made me thankful for everything I have in my life. You don't understand "poor" until you read this. It reminds me of stories my mom told of her parents during the Great Depression, but worse, but thru it all, McCourt remains a charming story-teller not looking for sympathy, but telling a story. As a storyteller myself, I appreciate his straight-forward approach. This book is a gem and one of my faves.

Nu am crezut că în istoria Irlandei a putut fi o asemenea sărăcie. Cartea te răscolește, te întristează dar îți dă și speranță. Este scrisă cu mult umor, din perspectiva unui copil (autorul), care încearcă să înțeleagă lumea în care trăiește și mai presus de toate să se descurce într-o familie ingenunchiata de greutăți.
Citind cartea, m-am dus mereu cu gândul la un tablou de artă naivă, tablou care zugrăvește promiscuitatea în care s-a putut trăi în anii 30-40 în Irlanda divizată între catolici și protestanți. Cel puțin toată scriitura îmi sugerează asta. 5 ✨✨✨✨✨ în mod deosebit pentru sinceritatea debordantă a autorului și subiectul destul de greu de abordat al cărții.