Angela gets well but they had to move.

This is going to be my last post about the book.

Things had been busy since November.  I was reading bits every now and then but not posting.  I think I got tired of writing, too.  I couldn't get myself to sit down and write, even in my two other blogs.

But anyhow...

Malachy the father was home for Christmas.  I didn't know whether I'd be happy for them or what.  But I know Frankie was happy to see his father.  He got them some chocolates, but that's all.  On that same day, the night of Christmas, he also left for England.  I don't really know what's on their father's mind, but I know that in more ways than one, Frankie and the kids were happy, even just for this day.

They couldn't pay their rent and they'd be locked out if they didn't move out.  Frank's grandma got them a place to live, about two miles outside town, in a place owned by a guy called Laman Griffin.  I think Laman was somehow a great help for Frank in getting access to the library and having the opportunity to read.  Laman sends Frankie to go to the library and get him books, and Frankie had the privilege of access to books.

But things weren't good.  I couldn't describe it.  You will have to read it yourself.

Frankie left Laman's house and never wanted to come back.

Now that his grandma is dead, he asked his uncle if he could stay in her place.  There was no problem.  He got a job and was saving his way to get to America.  He was determined and was blessed to get jobs that helped him support himself, give a little to his family and save some for his ticket to America.

He got the money by the time he turned seventeen and told his mother the day he bought his tickets.

Frankie left his mother and two brothers.  His father and another brother, Malachy, was both in England when he left.

He got a word from the Mr. Sliney, the guy his mother is taking care of.

Never smoke another man's pipe.

I know what this means.  But I don't exactly what Mr. Sliney was trying to tell Frank.

Angela snubs her Woodbines

Now, it's Angela.

She lied down one day and never got up to smoke her Woodbines.  She moans and says lemonade.  Frankie didn't know how to get her her lemonade because they don't have money; they don't even have coal for the fire. So, Frankie goes out and plans to ask Mrs. O'Connell if she can loan him a bottle of lemonade because his mother is sick and would pay them as soon as his mother gets the dole.

But, Frankie didn't have the courage to ask.  He saw the delivery truck of lemonades and saw Mrs. O'Connell having tea and bread and Frankie thought this isn't a great time to ask her.  So, he figured out a way to get more than a bottle of lemonade and a loaf of bread for him and his brothers.

Since Angela couldn't get up in the morning to wake them up, Frankie and his brothers started to miss school.  This went on until the officer from the school goes to their home and discovered what was wrong.  He immediately asked Frankie to go to her grandmother, who, later on, went to get a doctor.

Angela has pneumonia and was brought to the hospital.

However, the kids got to stay at their Aunt Aggie's until Angela gets out.

"My father in the morning is mine."

Since I started reading the book, I feel remorse for Malachy, the father, for not being able to be the father to Frankie and his siblings.  Oftentimes, I had to put down the book and stopped reading - even if I still want to read - all because I feel angry with their father.

But that is only half of my feelings.  Because half of my feelings go out to the kids.  Pity, pity and more pity.  Especially when Malachy the father left for England to work.  He left with a promise of sending money to his family, but up to this point, they haven't gotten anything and I feel and I fear that they wouldn't get anything at all.

In the middle of all these, Frankie finally expressed his feelings.  He said he know when his father has done bad things.  I know that young as he is, he does know these things.  But I felt sad with how he felt towards his father, bad as his father was.

"He lights the fire and makes the tea and sings to himself or reads the paper to me in a whisper that won't wake up the rest of the family.  Mikey Malloy stole Cuchulain, the Angel on the Seventh Step is gone someplace else, but my father in the morning is still mine."

I wish there is a way I can tell Malachy his father about how Frankie felt; about how much he love his father, after all those things that he had done and didn't do.

Initially, I felt like questioning Frankie about how he felt about his father.  But who am I to do so?  I grew up with a father that is far different from his; in an environment more convenient that his, and in a life that is way more comfortable than how he lived.  So, who am I to question his feelings towards his father?

But, still, I feel sad about all these.  How I wish I could sit down with Malachy his father and tell him how his kid feels about him.  How I wish I could tell him how lucky he is to have a child like Frankie, who loves him in spite of.  But I could only with and write it down here.

Then, I begin to wonder.  Frankie is still lucky tho have a father.

How many children whose wish would only be to have a father?  A father like Malachy who builds fire in the morning to make their tea and read the paper.

A father even if it's just in the morning.

The Girl Next Door

Her name is Patricia.

They never really met.  But Frankie had conversations with her while they were both confined at the hospital.  Frankie stayed in a room next to Patricia's, where she stayed in isolation because of cholera.

She recited a poem to Frankie, but never got to finish it.  Patricia died several days later in the lavatory.  She was to use a bedpan and didn't.

They were not supposed to talk to each other in the first place.  That's what the nurses told them.  And I asked why?  Are they going to communicate the disease to each other just by talking while in two different rooms?

I can relate to this.  There are a lot of things that our folks thought and thought wrong.  In our child's minds, we question but never really asked.  Because asking will lead to something else that, as children, looks like a punishment for having questioning minds.  We shouldn't question them adults and their ways.

I said Patricia did not finish the poem for Frankie.  So, Frankie asked the room cleaner if he can find it out for him.

Will Seamus find out?  Seamus doesn't know any poetry at all in the first place.  So, how would he?

Things Became Even Harder

Malachy didn't send anything at all.

Now, my fear came true.

Angela can't get the dole because Malachy wasn't there.  And besides, who would give the dole to the family whose father is in England?  They argued that they can't give money, and Angela almost begged them to consider since Malachy didn't (and I think wouldn't) send any money at all.

Life became even harder for the McCourts.

Frank had to be in the hospital because he had typhoid.

Should we thank God that it wasn't pneumonia?

Fortnight came and went...

I asked the question:  Would the change of environment totally change a man?

Apparently not.

The mailman came and went on the fortnight.  Them neighbors already had their groceries, their coal for the fire, and spent the afternoon at the cinema.

Frank and Malachy (the son) were still waiting.  The mailman had no news for them.

They asked again.  And the mailman was irked.  But, he said he understood, and that he'll ask his office just in case their mail was misplaced.  But, there weren't any.

They don't have tea nor bread, and the fire is losing coal.

Malachy (the father) did not send money from England.

That's why I didn't like Malachy going to England.

He left and I didn't like it.

The McCourts' neighbors have their fathers leaving for England.  Because England needs people to work for their factories.  To make guns and munitions (as Mc Court said it) needed for the war.

Most of the families in the lane have more than bread and tea.  On Saturdays, when the mail arrives, they have money from their fathers to buy food and watch movie at the cinema.  And the McCourts don't have tea and bread, not even coal to warm their home.

Suddenly, Angela asked Malachy if he wanted to go to England.  And Frank seconded the idea.

Then, he left.

It would take a fortnight before he can finally send some money through the mail.  That's because he would have things to pay there like rent and all.

I don't like this.

Would the change of environment totally change a man?

I couldn't wait until the fortnight comes.  When the money is supposed to be on the mail.

From The North

If you read about Malachy, you'll probably hate people who came from the north.  Because that's where he comes from.

He is Frank's father.  Full of pride and shit.

He lets his pregnant wife pick up the coal from this street because he can't do that.  He could sit down and have tea while his sons suffer from fleas in the bed.

He doesn't want to stoop down and do something that the poor does.  But, aren't the poor his equals?

He lets Angela ask for charity from St. Vincent de Paul.  Aren't the poor their equals?

He depends on the money given by the government.  Aren't the poor their equals?

When he gets a job, he loses it a week after fortnight.  Why?  Because he spends the week's salary drinking pints at the bar and wakes up late in the morning for work.  Misses his work, and loses his job the following Monday.

This is why I fear when Malachy gets a job.  This means that it will be the end of the dole from the government.  And this means that all his salary will be spent in pints at the bar, leaving nothing for even just bread and tea for his three sons.

Instead of praying for a job, I pray that he doesn't get any.  For without the job, Angela can always go the St. Vincent de Paul and at least ask for some of the things they need, like the boots for their sons.

Knock and...

They went back to Ireland.

But no one wants them.  There was no space, no spare money for food.

To top it all, even Frank's Aunt Paggie is not happy.  She can't even let them have porridge in their house when they were so cold and hungry.  But Frank's Grandma showed her way around Aunt Paggie's house:

Jesus, says Grandma, 'tis a good thing you didn't own that stable in Bethlehem or the Holy Family would still be wanderin' the world crumblin' with hunger.

The doctor says Eugene died of pneumonia.  Angela says she didn't know.  Malachy says he didn't know, too.  The doctor says, see that's the problem, you didn't know.

But what the fuck?  All Malachy knows is to drink the pint.  He drinks when Eugene is dead.  He drinks while Frank waits for him outside.  He drinks with the glass on top of Eugene's coffin the day they were supposed to bury his body.

What kind of life is this?

Four... No... Three... No...

After Margaret, I thought it was it.

But no.

Frank didn't know, and I didn't, too.  But there was another one.  Another one that we didn't get to see, didn't get to know.

Then Oliver.

Then, six months after, it was Eugene.

That was so many... gone in only within a year.

How do you take this kind of life?

I want to learn from Angela.  I need to learn from Angela.

Then There Were Four

Margaret was only seven weeks old.

And for that entire seven weeks, Malachy remained sober.

After that day the doctor took Margaret, Malachy was gone for several nights.  Angela stayed in bed, lying down facing the wall.

Frank took charge of his brothers.  He tried to feed them.  Tried to changed their diapers.  But Frank was so young.

Good thing they have such kind neighbors.  Mrs. Leibowitz gives them soup and Minnie MacAdorey gives them potatoes.  Also, Minnie taught Frank how to clean his twin brothers' soiled diapers.

But things can't go on like this.  No, not in New York.

Angela's cousins came and talked to Mrs. Leibowitz and Minnie.  This just can't go on.  So they borrowed the fountain pen of Mr. Leibowitz and wrote to Aunt Margaret.

The next thing Frank knew, they were on the streets of Ireland on an Easter Sunday.  They got to the McCourt's house and were able to get some sleep.  But Malachy's parents told them they don't have an extra room for six.  They told Malachy he can get something from the IRA in Dublin and can start something there.  They gave him money for the bus ride to Dublin.

But his service wasn't in the book so he didn't get anything.

Where She Came From

Angela came from a family that's poor.  Before she reached the age of seventeen, she tried several jobs back in their village but she just couldn't hang on.

So, one day when her mother couldn't take it anymore, she pushed her to ride one of those boats and get to New York where she can try other jobs and work for someone other than the Irish.

But, just fresh from the boat and into a bar, she met this charming man and ended up doing it with him that same night.  It didn't take long before her two cousins learned about it.  They looked for Malachy and insisted that he be responsible for what they did.

A wedding took place.  This is a day like any other for Malachy because an ordinary day for him is when he's had some whiskey flowing down his veins.

Malachy never stopped his drinking even after four kids.  He also never held on to a job for a long time.  He said that he lost one of his jobs because Angela went there and wondered if she can have part of his salary so that he won't spend it all buying whiskey.  But the company said that they don't care as long as their workers come to work sober.

Then came their fourth child, Margaret.  This is the time he stopped drinking.

For how long?  I have yet to know.

A Book By Frank

I've read 'Tis by Frank McCourt.

The book gave me a lot of inputs about Ireland and the Irish.

I have heard much about "Angela's Ashes" even before I heard that it was also a book by Frank.  I never got the chance to see the book when I was out of the country.

But I managed to get this book from a sale in one of our local bookshops.  To tell you honestly, I was surprised to see the book there at all.  I couldn't put it down even though I know that I didn't have a budget for books this month.  But it was such a good price that I couldn't resist.

ANGELA'S ASHES
By Frank McCourt
Type of Cover: Trade Paperback
ISBN: ISBN 0-684-84267-X
Purchase Date: October 2010
Place: Pandayan Bookshop, Philippines

     The smoking brought on Nora's cough and she told Mam the fags would kill her in the end, that there was a touch of consumption in her family and no one lived to a ripe old age, though who would want to in Limerick, a place where you could look around and the first thing you noticed was a scarcity of gray hairs, all the gray hairs either in the graveyard or across the Atlantic working on railroads or sauntering around in police uniforms.

     You're lucky, missus, that you saw a bit of the world.  Oh, God, I'd given anything to see a glimpse of New York, people dancing up and down Broadway without a care.  No, I had to go and fall for a boozer with the charm, Peter Molloy, a champion pint drinker that had me up the pole and up the aisle when I was barely seventeen.  I was ignorant, missus.