Kiss Me, I’m Irish.

I just finished reading ‘Tis, the second of three memoirs written by Frank McCourt, who is perhaps most well-known for his first memoir Angela’s Ashes, which is a Pulitzer Prize-winner to boot. There’s something about McCourt’s writing that is so accessible, so tangible, on top of being absolutely hilarious. Even though he writes about incredibly depressing things like his father abandoning the family to drink away his wages in the pubs and leaving the family to live in utter poverty, McCourt never departs from his sense of humor, and there is something about that that is incredibly profound and forgiving. Both books are wonderful and I recommend them highly.

Anyway, so I finished ‘Tis and I was looking on YouTube for some clips of Frank McCourt because I was curious to see if he still had a pronounced Irish brogue after living in America for so many years. I came across this video of McCourt reading from Angela’s Ashes and was so charmed by his reading, by his accent and the clever delivery of this passage. And this is speaking purely from my individual experience, but how are the Irish so funny? It’s like all the humor that was meant to be spread out among the Earth’s inhabitants somehow got concentrated in Ireland.

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