His Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir Angela's Ashes is my favorite book in the world. I can't review it because who can review a book this good without looking like a pompous ass? Instead, a groveling praise-fest will do.
On the first page of Angela's Ashes are my favorite lines in all of literature:
When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: a happy childhood is hardly worth your while.
For a writer in particular, those are the truest words ever spoken. What do you have to write about if nothing tragic and miserable ever happened to you in your life?
I've read the print version of Angela's Ashes several times, but I listened to it for the first time last week on unabridged audio CD. McCourt narrates it himself, and by damn it might be even better out loud. His accent is different from the Irish accents I've heard before ... less lilting and delightful but still uniquely wonderful. He reads in a way that's mumbly and casual and makes me wish I'd had him as a teacher. I love this guy. Love him!
I listened to his Teacher Man the week before, and it was incredible, too. I may just send a copy with a sappy note to each of my favorite high school teachers. The kind who stood out mostly because they cared deeply about their subjects and their students. (If you're out there Dr. James Southern, this means you.)
Still, Angela's Ashes is my favorite of his works by a mile. It's miserable, of course. But, unlike the movie they made of it, it's funny too. Best of all is the way he captures the child's voice - the questioning, the naivete and yet the understanding deeper than adults know.
Ach, 'tis beautiful.
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