Last night, Denis and I attended a tribute to Frank McCourt at Symphony Space, which is a performance space in our old neighborhood in Manhattan. Symphony Space is where all the Selected Shorts series are performed and recorded (if you haven’t downloaded anything from this Public Radio series for a car trip, I’m not sure how you’ve been able to tolerate a car trip). Symphony Space is also where Frank used to meet, annually, with other authors and celebrities, to read from the works of James Joyce at Bloomsday on Broadway, so it was quite fitting that the space was chosen for his memorial evening.
Last night’s event was a wonderful celebration of Frank’s life as a teacher, friend, father, husband and Pulitzer Prize winning author. The event was hosted by author Peter Quinn, who commented on Frank’s great generosity as an author, mentioning that, as he watched people file into the theater, he counted 340 authors whose books Frank had “blurbed”. I don’t know if Peter Quinn counted me among those 340, but I am one of the authors who receieved Frank’s generous praise for the cover of my book, Outtakes From a Marriage.
The night was funny and sad and everything a memorial service for a real Irishman should be. I had never been to an Irish wake before I met Denis and I was so astounded by the first one I attended, years ago, for one of Denis’s elderly relatives, that I talked about it for days. Denis had never really thought about the Irish wake before, but when I pointed out the behavior of his relatives and friends, he was amazed and amused too, and we have talked for years about writing a movie that takes place, entirely at an Irish wake.
Irish people love wakes. They peruse the obituaries frantically each Sunday, saying things like, “Jack Donnelly of Federal Street is dead. Isn’t that the Jack Donnelly that Uncle Tim used to work with down at the Post Office?” Then, when there is even the remotest link made to any of the dead, the family will dress up and rush off to the funeral home for the festivities. The casket is at the front of the room and people line up to kneel beside it and offer a prayer. There are rows of folding chairs and after offering their condolences to the family of the deceased, people sit in the chairs and talk about how sad it all is, the dead person being dead and all. How sad the family looks. How the little ones don’t seem aware, God bless them. The people who have flocked to the wake wonder why so-and-so isn’t there, and why another so-and-so dared show his face. They talk about how old this one looks, how beautiful that one’s daughter has become, and how crazy her mother is. And then the whole party moves to the home of a survivor of the deceased where everyone will eat and drink all night and many old, stale grudges are refreshed and sometimes fights break out, and young lovers meet and old people outdrink the young. Well, if you’re Irish, you know what I’m talking about and if not, I’m so sorry, you’ve really missed out.
But none of this really has anything to do with last night, except for the fact that Irish people experience loss with much sadness and great cheer.
Frank’s surviving brothers, Alfie, Michael and Malachy McCourt, told heartbreaking and humorous stories about Frank – about how he helped them all come to America, about how he loved this country and teaching and writing, and traveling and meeting his fans. How his wife, Ellen changed his life and how she inspired him to write Angela’s Ashes. And how funny he was. One of my favorite stories was told by a friend of Frank’s who recalled the time a drunk homeless person staggered up to them on a New York sidewalk and asked for five dollars to buy a bottle of wine. Frank immediately shouted, “And how can I be sure you’re not going to use that money to buy yourself a bowl of soup?”
One of the best parts of the evening was when the New York City Chancellor of Education, Joel Klein, announced that there will be a new public high school in Manhattan called the Frank McCourt High School, which will be a selective school that will focus on the teaching of writing to New York City kids.
The very best part was a speech by author William Kennedy, at the end of the evening, in which he stated the obvious – that Frank is not really dead at all, nor will he ever be, as people will be reading his books for eternity.
“The Irish are experts at two things: words and death,” said Peter Quinn last night.
They are, ’tis true.
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Ann very nice post about Frank McCourt. I’m sorry to have missed the Symphony Space memorial.
I recommend everyone seeing “A Couple of Blaggards” when it comes around to a local playhouse. It is a two man play based on Angela’s Ashes. Originally done by Frank and Malachy These days it may be any two random Irish guys. It can be googled.
Often in my family a pub was rented out or descended upon after the coffin was safely tucked away. It was strangely the best of family gatherings and often the only time you saw the extended family.
Ann…thank you for sharing this post…I have been to Irish wakes and started laughing out loud as you explained the process…how true…we do love our Drama..but enjoy the laughter that comes from it just as much….
I think the movie idea sounds wonderful!!!!
also kudos to NYC for honoring Frank in such an amazing way……
Love the idea of an Irish wake film/play. Reading your description brought back my father’s so vividly. I never thought I would laugh at my own father’s wake but I sure did. (Tears were well mixed in.) My Dad was from the auld sod and would tell us stories of wakes at home. He was from the country and my favorite was about an old neighbor who had passed. Unfortunately, he died sitting up and was not found until he became stiff so he was tied down on the bed during the wake. Well, the wake proceeded and the neighbors stayed on and with them was the beer and whiskey. Well, a couple of the boys came in while the older men were busy talking and drinking, they cut the rope and up popped the dead man! Needless to say there were many a colorful word expressed that evening and grown men running from the room. My father never confessed to being one of those young boys but his account was so detailed that it makes me wonder.
On a personal note, my favorite part of a wake in Ireland is that the dead are brought home to be waked. They are in their own beloved home and are never left alone there. Also, deep in the country, the neighbors dig the graves for the family.
I second Gloria’s recommendation of the film The Dead. Absolutely beautiful.
Welcome back Kim! Where on earth have you been?
By PETER DUFFY
Frank McCourt, who died on Sunday at age 78, was the most Catholic of authors.
The rites and rituals of Ireland’s Catholic Church of the 1930s and ’40s exist at the core of “Angela’s Ashes” (1996), his great Bildungsroman. That book’s hilarious and irreverent chapter on Mr. McCourt’s preparation for, and eventual ill-fated reception of, First Communion set down for all history what it was like to sit before an old Irish “master,” named Mr. Benson in this case, and have very pre-Vatican II lessons pummeled (literally) into your pre-teenage brain.
“He tells us we have to know the catechism backwards, forwards and sideways,” Mr. McCourt writes. “We have to know the Ten Commandments, the Seven Deadly Virtues, Divine and Moral, the Seven Sacraments, the Seven Deadly Sins. We have to know by heart all the prayers, the Hail Mary, the Our Father, the Confiteor, the Apostles’ Creed, the Act of Contrition, the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary. . . . He tells us we’re hopeless, the worst class he ever had for First Communion but as sure as God made little apples he’ll make Catholics of us, he’ll beat the idler out of us and Sanctifying Grace into us.”
Mr. Benson, who inhabits the same spiritual rectory as the fiery Father Arnall in James Joyce’s “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” didn’t quite succeed in making an orthodox Catholic out of Frank McCourt. In fact, Mr. McCourt was one of the church’s principal public antagonists. He delighted in delivering bawdy riffs against what he saw as the church’s hypocrisy, cruelty and joylessness. “I was so angry for so long, I could hardly have a conversation without getting in an argument,” he once said.
Ann: Have not been here in a long while. I felt like I had an online DVR – rifled through the topics and the fabulous photos over the last two months. I forgot how much I loved it here.
The short story “The Dead” by James Joyce and its film version with Angelica Huston seemed to portray an Irish wake, even though it was simply a gathering. There’s such an aristocratic quality about her.
Gloria
Tammy-Sounds like you are, too—a wonderful woman with a beautiful soul, that is!
Best wishes, Lynne
Thank you for your kind comments. I read that glass castle book too which is wonderful. I think the great thing about Frank was he captured the humor of the situations. We laughed a lot at the absurdity of it all and being broke. The date incident when I told my mom about it that night we laughed ourselves silly. Frank took all the laughter inside the family and showed me you can share it with others. He was just a wonderful man with a beautiful soul.
Dear Tammy,
Jeanette Walls talks about seeing her parents picking out of dumpsters (I’m really over-simplifying things, here) in her autobiography, The Glass Castle, a book I highly recommend.
A few years ago, she was doing a signing and my eldest—who adores her–(and who was then in high school waiting to see if she would accepted into journalism school) was struck shy when she was finally face to face with her idol. Ms. Walls ended up chatting with her about her hopes and dreams, posed for a pic with her arms around her, and told her that she was going to write something in her (tattered and much-read) copy of The Glass Castle that her mother had told her to always
remember to do…The words: “Always tell the truth.”
Thanks for telling the truth, Tammy…
Lynne
Catherine, I’ve rethought my gold star award for your poem yesterday. I award you 10 gold stars! It was that good!
hmmm. I’m sure there’s a facebook application for sending gold stars. There’s applications for every silly thing you can think of! lolol
When I read Angela’s Ashes I was just stunned by the writing, right from the opening sentences. Frank McCourt had this unique style of never using quotation marks. He described a wretched childhood with humor and heartbreak. What a portrait he painted of his valiant mother. Thank you for a glimpse into Irish culture. The Irish do have a way with words that is uniquely charming.
I watched Ironweed as a teenager, when there were very few multiplexes. It is depressing as all get out. It is also haunting and sticks in one’s memory. It left an impression. Jack Nicholson was not his usual diabolical (delicious) self. Meryl, well, she can get awards just reciting the phone book.
Gloria
Thanks for sharing, Ann. Love Wm Kennedy. Ironweed is one of my all-time favorites. Great movie too, with Jack, Meryl and Tom Waits.
Paula beat me to the “Irish sports pages” quip, and Mary L’s Italian v Irish wakes is spot on! I’ve been to many of each! Brendan was four when, at my suggestion, he put one of his plastic army men in his grandfather Doyle’s casket! Carrying on the traditions!
Bloomsday on Broadway is a reading of a single work, Ulysses, in its entirety.
The film versions of A Portrait of the Artist and Ulysses are worth checking out, if you haven’t seen them. The former is beautifully acted, with faithfully reproduced period sets, and sure to please. The latter is a hilarious cobbling together of the major scenes, rife with visual anachronisms, and is not for everyone. We watched it on Bloomsday a couple of years ago with a group of friends, one of whom pronounced it the worst film they’d ever seen!
very touching tribute to an amazing author…your words and descriptions transported me. maybe i’m a little extra emotional right now, but i had a tear
in my eye.
thank you for a lovely post Ann
Tammy, Malachy McCourt said last night, “Families are only as sick as their secrets.” The brothers talked about the way Frank’s book released them from so much shame that came with the poverty and alcoholism. Your comment was very moving. Thanks
Paula, the ‘Irish sports pages’ is absolutely priceless! lololol
Mary L, the bottles in the casket had me laughing too.
Tammy, thank you so much for sharing such a personal and painful story. It really touched my heart.
Tammi
I am a History person, to mean, I do not get enough of readying, studying or watching History stuff. My conclusion is that most of the people struggle,and plenty, for most of their lives, one way or another. So remain proud of what came your way. (This is what I tell myself, anyway: this is Lupe’s journey and so be it).
And it is good that people speak up about their experience, as it lightens the load, clears the understanding of this world, and educates others as to what goes on, in case they never encountered.
And Ann started this…
Aww thank you for sharing his memorial with us.
I love Frank’s books.
Although I didnt have the soggy catholic cursed irish upbringing Frank had, we were very poor.
His humour in his stories rang so true to me.
My family also found something to laugh at in our situations and though we didnt always have money to pay to heat our house,it was warm with giggles and love.
Getting evicted, sneaking out in the middle of the night,desperate to go to work rather than school, giving your first earned coin to your ma along with the shame of where you came from,were very commonplace and he brought it all to life for me again.
Most of all the fact he wasn’t afraid to tell these stories to people, changed my own outlook on my past that i tried so hard to hide from.
Like the time my date pointed out the gross people picking cans out of the dumpster and when I looked over and saw my cousin and her husband waving at me, I couldnt help but hide on the floorbood.The look hurt look on my cousin’s face still haunts me to this day.
He really and truly touched my life.
If you havent listened to the audio versions of his books I highly suggest you do as his irish brogue and delivery make his books twice as funny.
Have you ever seen the movie Passed Away? The patriarch of an Irish family dies and the movie is mainly about how the family reacts but also about the very elaborate wake they have at the family house. The movie can be stupid at times, but it has some good moments in it and a wonderful cast.
Have you ever seen the movie Passed Away? The patriarch of an Irish family dies and the movie is mainly about how the family reacts but also about the very elaborate wake they have at the family house. The movie can be stupid at times, but it has some good moments in it and a wonderful cast.
What a wonderful way to describe us Irish in relation to death. I laughed and laughed. Please write that play; you and Denis would do it justice! And thank you, thank you for keeping Frank McCourt alive.
Marge, New Jersey
lovely. thanks for sharing.
Ah yes, my grandmother (Mary Carey Murphy)used to call the obits “the Irish sports pages”. They even beat out the wedding and engagement pages, which she would peruse to comment on the loveliness, or lack thereof, of the brides and brides to be. “Oh, poor thing, she’s a homely one, isn’t she”, etc.
Italian vs Irish wakes. I had only been to Italian wakes as a child, everyone in black, faces hidden and crying like none other. Then my Irish uncle passed, he owned several taverns in Chicago,, needless to say, the funeral parlor where he was waked was next to a bar. I walked in and was just amazed at how happy everyone was and they were wearing bright colors. The ones who were old enough were drinking from bottles and placed the 1/2 full ones in the casket. Every once in a while the undertaker would clear the room and remove the bottles. I was speechless. It was a celebration of my uncle’s life full of good times and good cheer. Now I am not saying all Italian wakes are dreary, only the ones I’ve been too..
It is all about self pride, and that is a good thing.I read one of Malachy McCourt’s books, forget which one, and on the Preface he wrote something to the effect:
Thank you to Britain for shoving the English language down my throat… so it could all come out in all its glory..
I am glad they are getting recognition.
I am listening to Angela’s Ashes with Mr. McCourt doing the reading, a real treat for my ears. Ann, I too married into a huge irish family and I must say I was overwhelmed by my own wedding, it was huge. The Ryan family picnic had 220 people from 5 states and Ireland, it had been a while since they gathered, just amazing really. Thanks for sharing this. p.s. my husbands’ family are from Limrick.
Lovely blog today, Ann. Thanks so much for sharing. It’s almost like we were there.
Catherine
Oh, this story has brought back the stories my Irish mother wistfully told me about the wakes of her childhood, when the O’Briens, the O’Reillys and the Breens would gather in Pittsburgh to mourn (and drink, and eat, and tell stories, and perhaps brawl). Interesting folk, the Irish.
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful evening. I went back and forth from feeling sad to laughing, feeling inappropriate when I was laughing!
The Irish wake movie idea is a great idea. From what I’ve seen of them in tv and movies, they really are events.
Loved the story of Frank and the homeless person, that is too funny.
What a wonderful, touching, perfect tribute to Frank that a new high school will be named after him. Not just because of his writing, but because of all the years he spent teaching in NYC schools. When I read that in his obituary, I was envious of all those students who were lucky enough to have him as a teacher. He lives on in everyone of them.
And yes, people will be reading his books forever, so he is still alive.
Having grown up in an Irish Catholic family in Boston, I never knew anything BUT an Irish wake when someone passed away. Then I married my husband, a Methodist from Baltimore, no Irish in him, and went to a wake for a member of his family. I was astounded, is all I can say.
Hi Ann,
Thank you for yesterday’s poem—you are one talented woman!
Thank you for sharing that very special evening with all of us—Frank McCourt holds a special place in my heart…
I have never been to an Irish wake, but have of course, heard of these extraordinary (well, to non-Irish people, anyway!) gatherings and your description is the best I’ve ever read!
Have you ever seen the movie “Waking Ned Devine”? I loved it and I think you might like it, too.
Have a good one, everybody,
Lynne