As Nick Brown reported in this morning’s Daily Word, Frank McCourt, American Irish American (read his books if you’re confused) passed away at the age of 78. His books were funny and lively, but they also talked about poverty, the intolerance of religion, alcoholism and abuse in a way that was no less raw just because it made you laugh. When an American writes a memoir, it’s all, “Oh, my emotional scars. My therapist says I need to construct healthy boundaries in my relationship with food. Blah blah.” May you be forty years in heaven before the devil knows your dead, Francis McCourt.
Jaysus! Frank Mccourt Is Feckin’ Dead
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