Readings, Rated
Bye Frank McCourt.
There have been exactly six books that, when I finished them, made me cry like I had just sat through a Lars von Trier marathon: A Tale of Two Cities, The Corrections, Random Family, Stuart, A Life Backwards, The Children’s Hospital and, of course, Angela’s Ashes. And so, I was very sad to wake up to hear a BBC reporter snarking about the career of the late Frank McCourt. I adore that book with a sentimentality I usually reserve for Easter-morning frittata or, like, actual important life events.
It’s hard not to root for a poor, filthy Catholic immigrant who, through the American educational system, managed to eke out a white-collar existence against all odds. He’s like many of my friends’ parents, actually, which might be why I feel so sad that he died.
You can see the little cutie on video here, being all sweary. Aww: