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Tue 07 Jul 2009A simmering rage and a sense of justice lay at the heart of McCourt's writing
EVEN IN the mind-boggling world of overnight literary sensations Frank McCourt’s candid memoir took some beating. Anger was the motivation; a simmering rage combined with McCourt’s abiding sense of justice and graphic recall did the rest. Long years of teaching high school in New York left him with a passion for seeing lives begun well. His hadn’t.
Never a cynic, kindly, gentle McCourt was a realist from the beginning – he had had no choice. He considered Angela’s Ashes, the story of his childhood, as a cautionary tale. For others it is a valuable piece of Irish social history, a history that in Ireland with its litany of abuse, secrecy and poverty invariably sits closer to horror than romance.
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