(10/15/2001)
Hussein Mashni
Angela's Ashes was, like the name of the city it was about, a Limerick. It was musical, entertaining, funny and sad. But most of all it was inspired and original. Tis, on the other hand, falls short in almost all these areas. It's boring, redundant and forced. The rhythm is gone and poetry that flowed so flawlessly in Angela's Ashes is missing. Whenever the writer attempts to inject this genius, which we saw in Angela's Ashes, it looks like imitation. The only time the book Tis felt right was when McCourt was back in Ireland. He's better at telling us what we don't know about Ireland than telling us what we already know about America. Tis, to me felt like a bad Hollywood sequel, a dreary disappointment. Maybe its easier to believe or to empathize with a young boy than a grown man, I'm not sure.
The picture on the cover of Angela's Ashes drew me into the book whereas the picture on the cover of Tis repels me. It was McCourt himself who said that a happy childhood is hardly worth your while, that's kind of what made Angela's Ashes the magical memoir. OK, we're all happy that things started turning out good for the McCourt family and we want it that way. But I'm just not sure it's worth writing a whole book about. Add to this the foul language, excessive sexual imagery and for me, though I loved Angela's Ashes enough to buy this sequel, the book Tis failed on many counts and I regret the money I spent on it. Thank you.