Angela's Ashes Blog #2

As I get deeper into Angela's Ashes I become more interested in what is to come next and my emotions get tangled up with each passing event. Some parts of my novel make me frustrated with Frankie's parents and other parts of the story make me impressed with how these two struggling parents get through everyday alive. So far in the book, Frankie's new born sister, Margaret, dies without much warning. While his parents are mourning in their own strange ways, things around the house turn into complete chaos for the twins, Malachy, and Frankie. There is no supervision, no food, and no attention being given to these poor kids except for the occasional soup from Mrs. Leibowitz (the McCourt's next door neighbor). After a few weeks the family moves to Ireland in hopes of a better life.

One thing that really stands out to me through Frank McCourt's memoir is his sense of maturity at age 5. By this time, he is talking care of his two twin brothers, doing anything he can to help his "Mam",  and trying his best to stay out of trouble for sake of the unfortunate family. Frank writes, "Most fo the day Mam lies in bed with her face to the wall. If she drinks tea or eats anything she throws up in the bucket under the bed and I empty it and rinse it in the lavatory down the hall."(McCourt 41)This simple quote captures the depressing atmosphere surrounding Frankie as a young boy and points out how no matter how gruesom things get, he is there to help. Frankie and his brothers don't get much attention and when they do, they drowned in delight. Frankie is desperate for love and after the death of his sister he writes, "I climb into bed and my father, still in his clothes, lies beside me. I'm hoping he'll put his arms around me but he goes on singing about Roddyy McCorley and talking to Margaret, Oh, my little curly-haired, blue-eyed love, I would dress you in silks..."(McCourt 41) When I read this part in the book all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around little Frankie and show him that he is loved. I can tell Frank McCourt did not get enough love as a child and it seems to have really scared him through his writing. Often, McCourt writes of times when he is all alone and sad.