Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Angelas Ashes: The Frank McCourt Museum

The reason why I came to study abroad at University College of Cork, Ireland was to study Irish Literature. So when it came to exploring Ireland, most of my major sights to see have been literary related. That's why when Gerred and I came to visit Limerick, we made sure to see the new (only a year old) Frank McCourt Museum.

[left via]
Winner of the Pulitzer Prize, Frank McCourt tells the story of his childhood in the memoir Angela's Ashes. Filled with the sorrow of the loss of his sister Margaret and twin brothers, Eugene and Oliver, the story of his life continues to worsen as his father leaves for England when he is eleven and spends all his money at the pub, leaving Frank's mother, Angela, to raise the children penniless by herself. Though sad as it is, the book is filled with excellent black humor and is a great literary masterpiece.


The Museum happened to be Leamy's School For Catholic Boys, the very school Frank McCourt went to when he was young. The owner of the museum, Una Heaten, happened to be one of Frank McCourt's friends and erected the museum in his honor. She also happens to be an artist, so the museum is definitely a little more "quirky" than the usual museum.



There is a glass case full of notebooks that members of Frank McCourt's class donated to the museum for display. The giant picture is of all the masters, and the one in the far back with the beard is the headmaster. The guy with all the medals on his kilt, happens to be the boy that danced a lot and won all the medals from the book.



This is the classroom and desks that Frank McCourt was taught in.


Oh and this little gem. Gerred found this on the way out, a tiny little angel sitting on the 7th step. The same one from the book that brought Frank his brothers. It made me happy to see this little detail as I left.

I still have to read 'Tis and Teacher Man and am waiting until I am mailed them from my bookshelf at home.

Shannon

1 comment:

  1. I didn't know he was dead... or a least I forgot.
    I loved his books, I read Angela's ashes several times.
    By the way I'm going to Paris next month for a week-end with my daughter. Would you like a Paris postcard ? If yes just send me your Irish adress !

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