One of my most favorite books and authors of all time. I can't get enough of Frank's stories. I also listened to him tell it on an audio recording, and it's even more awesome listening to his Irish accent. The most compelling characteristic of his writing is the ability to write about a subject as dire and despairing as poverty and neglect, and make it so blisteringly funny, I'm in tears. Then in another chapter, I'm crying with grief over the loss of his siblings and the humiliations of his mother. But as awful as his childhood was, he tells it in such a way - GOD, it's funny. I will re-read this many times. It's that good.

I just felt depressed while reading this novel. You can't imagine that people could live in such poverty and yet survive somehow. The book is gripping but makes you feel helpless..

Io lo so che adesso prenderò fischi e parolacce, qualcuno si metterà in fila per ricoprirmi di guano di rinoceronte e un altro scalderà il gatto a nove code con un accendino Bic in attesa di scagliarlo veementemente contro il mio (magro, inesistente) deretano. Ma "Le ceneri di Angela" non mi ha fatto impazzire.

Non posso negare di essere rimasto colpito, e saltuariamente anche commosso, dalle peripezie della famiglia McCourt, e Frank è meraviglioso nella sua premura di protezione dei fratelli, e nelle insperate capacità di ritrovare strade per la resistenza. Ma pagina dopo pagina non riuscivo a non provare la sensazione di una "già letto", come se sapessi esattamente che cosa aspettarmi e come aspettarmelo.

In questo senso, il disperato umorismo irlandese diventa quasi manieristico, ed anche questo non aiuta. La scorrevolezza di una penna è un valore, non dico di no, ma non sono riuscito a entrare davvero negli avvenimenti, a chiudere il libro pensando "questo lo devo assolutamente consigliare". Tutto ciò detto, alcune perle impreziosiscono decisamente queste pagine.

Citazioni a caso: "Il maestro dice che è una cosa meravigliosa morire per la fede e Papà dice che è una cosa meravigliosa morire per l'Irlanda e allora io mi domando se al mondo c'è qualcuno che ci vorrebbe vivi" "Manco per sogno sposerò il capo degli Unni, rispose Ursula, e gli unni ammazzano lei e le sue dame. Ma io mi domando perché non poteva dire di sì e salvare la vita di undicimila vergini? Perché le vergini e martiri devono sempre impuntarsi?"

Multa saracie si ignoranta in Limerick-ul copilariei lui Frank McCourt. Si cu atat mai mult il admir pentru ca s-a ridicat din acea mizerie si a ajuns departe. O data in plus ma conving ca multi dintre cei care au suferit de lipsuri in copilarie sunt mai determinati sa reuseasca in viata.

Felul in care este scrisa cartea este exceptional, un stil tragi-comic curgator si sensibil care te face sa ii iubesti pe Francis, Malachy, Alphie, pe gemeni si pe mica Margaret. Poti chiar sa o intelegi pe mama care-si iubeste din suflet toti copiii si se zbate asa cum poate, dar nu stie ce sa faca mai mult, nici macar sa paraseasca un tata inconstient, care nu se poate abtine de la bautura nici cand isi vede de copiii flamanzi, fara pantofi si haine, locuind in incaperi insalubre, in frig si umezeala.

O carte trista, pentru suflet, cu in final din care razbate speranta.

In his autobiography, the author brilliantly describes his memoir of growing up in New York in the 30s and in Ireland in the 40s.

Pulizer-palkitun Seitsemännen portaan enkeli teoksen kirjoittaja Frank McCourt (1930-2009) eli ensimmäiset vuotensa Brooklynissa, josta vanhemmat halusivat palata takaisin Irlantiin. Kirja on muistelmallinen teos, mutta uskoakseni siinä on käytetty runsaasti kirjailijan vapauksia perheen lapsuus- ja nuoruuskuvauksissa, jossa isä joi kuin pesusieni ja äiti yritti pitää perheensä koossa. Elämä oli köyhääkin kurjempaa, mutta eipä naapuristossa juuri kovin rikkaita näkynyt. Kun luet kirjan, tiedät mitä nälkä on ja miten sukulaiset, naapurit, opettajat, papit, viranomaiset ym. kohtelivat huono-osaista McCourtin perhettä. Frank oli perheen vanhin lapsi ja kaikesta kurjuudesta huolimatta hän selviytyi sairauksien ja nälkäkuoleman partaalta hengissä, ja muutti takaisin Amerikkaan, ja on siellä kirjoittanut pitkän liudan kirjoja. Seitsemännen portaan enkelistä on tehty myös samanniminen elokuva.
Kirja on kuvaus rutiköyhästä perheestä. Kirjan muisteluiden lomasta nousee kuvaukset Irlannin yhteiskunnan tilasta toisen maailmansodan aikana. Historia ja kulttuuri sekä katolisuus värittävät perheen elämänmenoa. Koulunkäynti ja opettajat olivat uskomattomia. Kirja on todella tämän vuoden lukuhelmi, paras lukemani kirja tänä vuonna. Olen odottanut pitkään, että voin sanoa, että suosittelen kirjaa lämpimästi. Frank McCourt, toivottavasti olet siellä, missä tähdet kimaltavat, sillä Seitsemännen portaan enkeli on tähtikirjallisuutta.

Heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time.

Life is suffering.

And the root of all suffering is want.

And we want. Oh, we want.

We want the husband to keep the job and come home sober. We want the kids to live. We want shoes and clothes that fit and don't have holes. We want to eat. We want a roof that doesn't leak and indoor plumbing, for Christ's sake.

We want the priest with the servant not to kick us from his door and tell us our suffering is caused by sin. We want something kinder than guilt or shame.

We want friendship. We want love. We want more.

Oh, we want.

But why would YOU want to read this almost twenty year old memoir set in a far earlier time? What, after all, do you have in common with a brutally honest and witty boy growing up during the Depression and World War II in Limerick, Ireland?

Well, have you ever wanted anything?

This book is everything a tragicomedy should be: laugh out loud funny and so sad it seeps down into the cracks and crevices. I wanted the story to go on forever, and I’ll be reading it again – and again, and again – soon.



This book is reviewed on my Rory Gilmore Reading Challenge site: https://rorygilmorereadingchallenge.w...

“When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I managed to survive at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.”

These are the opening lines from Frank McCourt's beautifully written memoir. It is the story of his childhood and growing up in Limerick, Ireland. He was born in New York City but it was the 1930s and during the depression. So the decision was made to move back to Limerick where Frank's maternal grandmother lived. But Limerick was not much better than New York, and in some ways worse, especially for Frank's father who was from the North.

His father, Malachy, rarely has a job and when he does he drinks his wages. The family lives in conditions of extreme poverty. Near starvation, wearing rags and shoes that are falling apart, picking up bits of coal from the road so they can light a fire, begging for a pigs head for Christmas dinner. The story moves from heartbreaking to hilarious effortlessly. It is done with eloquence. Destined to be a classic.

New York in den 30ern. Die McCourts haben sich als irische Einwanderer kennengelernt und leben mit ihren vier kleinen Kindern in armen Umständen. Der Vater versäuft den Lohn, sobald er ihn bekommt. Nur selten schafft er es, das Geld nach Hause zu bringen und seiner Familie so ein glückliches Wochenende zu verschaffen. Als die einzige Tochter stirbt, können die New Yorker Verwandten das Elend nicht mehr mitansehen und sorgen dafür, dass die Großeltern die McCourts zurück nach Irland holen. Doch sie gelangen vom Regen in die Traufe. Im Freistaat bzw. in der Republik ist es für den nordischen Vater, obwohl er Katholik ist, schwierig, Arbeit zu finden, und wenn er welche hat, versäuft er den Lohn hier erst recht. Es bleibt an der Mutter, ihre Kinder irgendwie durchzubringen.

Ja, das ist ein erschütterndes Buch voll tiefster Armut, wie man sie sich in Europa des 20. Jahrhunderts kaum vorstellen kann. Der Stadt versorgt die Ärmsten nur notdürftig und tut sich schwer damit, Frau und Kinder eines Mannes zu versorgen, der ja arbeiten könnte, aber es nicht tut oder das Geld in den Pubs lässt. Dass es den McCourts nicht besser ergeht als in Amerika, ist nicht verwunderlich. Die irische Kultur ist zu dieser Zeit geprägt von dem, was wir heute als toxische Maskulinität bezeichnen würden. Immer wieder finden sich die Anzeichen hierfür in Frank McCourts Worten:

„Dad, Uncle Pa Keating and Uncle Pat Sheehan looked sad but did not cry and I thought that if you’re a man you can only cry when you have the black stuff that is called the pint.“ (Seite 92)

oder

„Even if Dad came he wouldn’t be much use because he never carries anything, parcels, bags, packages. If you carry such things you lose your dignity.“ Seite 120

Da auch Betteln die Würde des Vaters beschädigen würde, bleibt seiner Frau nichts anderes übrig, als dies an seiner Stelle zu tun und ihre kleinen Kinder irgendwie zu versorgen. Notfalls mit Zuckerwasser in der Babyflasche. Als der Vater nach England geht, wo es wegen des Krieges viel Arbeit gibt, ist von vornherein völlig klar, was passieren wird. Der Vater lässt monatelang nichts von sich hören und schickt natürlich kein Geld.

Das alles klingt sehr deprimierend und ich kann mich erinnern, dass ich über das Buch schon gehört habe, es sei irische Jammerei. Doch das Buch überraschte mich mit viel Humor, Galgenhumor teilweise, während die schlimmen Passagen relativ nüchtern geschildert sind, so dass ich mich dem Vorwurf, das Buch sei ausschließend deprimierend, nicht anschließen kann. Das Ende spiegelt Hoffnung wieder. Die letzten Kapitel habe ich nicht mit ganz so viel Interesse gelesen wie den Rest der Autobiografie. Es herrscht Aufbruchstimmung, die Handlung strebt nur noch dem Zeitpunkt entgegen, an dem McCourt endlich zurück nach Amerika gehen kann. Doch das Buch hat mich über weite Strecken sehr gut unterhalten und berührt. Es gibt auch eine Fortsetzung über McCourts erste Zeit in Amerika, die ich wahrscheinlich auch noch lesen werde. Ein schönes Buch!

I loved this book. I started out buying it as a gift for my mother. That might have been the last time I visited her at Christmas time (I'm not crazy about driving trips in the winter). And while there, I started reading it. I knew it I had to buy it for myself when I returned home. I did. And I read the book in about a week, if that long.

I'm part Irish. But you don't have to be Irish to like this book. Matter of fact, a lot of the Irish didn't like it because it exposed just how poverty stricken they were. And many people feel it is exaggerated.

But I think anyone who cares anything about people would like this book. It does have "in-your-face" poverty. Children who die because doctors aren't available or they are malnourished. People who look around and believe that if they stay where they are, they will be destined for the same poverty stricken life that their parents have.

To me this was a very moving book. You could be crying your eyes out on one page at the sorrow of it all and on the very next page you are laughing hysterically at the folly of it all. But, maybe that's just the Irish in me.