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Een zwemmende monnik een herinnering by…
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Een zwemmende monnik een herinnering (original 1998; edition 2000)

by Malachy McCourt

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8581310,412 (3.18)11
Member:ISBN-Jan
Title:Een zwemmende monnik een herinnering
Authors:Malachy McCourt
Info:Amsterdam Ooievaar 2000
Collections:Your library
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A Monk Swimming by Malachy McCourt (1998)

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English (12)  Dutch (1)  All languages (13)
Showing 1-5 of 12 (next | show all)
one grows to like McCourt for his honesty and to sympathize with him for the struggle he wages with a mind that he describes as "leaping about like a caged and vicious rodent" whenever he wakes up after a night of drink. ( )
  velvetink | Mar 31, 2013 |
The memoir of struggling actor, effortless drunk, and endless traveler to spectacular ports for often unsavory purposes should probably read as one of the most depressing and unreadable books of its kind. It would if McCourt were not so honest, self-effacing, and unnaturally funny. He is able to transform a downward spiral into a continuous barrage of laughter-inducing anecdotes that still do not shy from truth or lessons along the way. If you want a readable memoir that is not a feast of self pity nor a lightweight read and can offer a good laugh, this is the book. ( )
  poetontheone | Aug 5, 2012 |
Not as talented as his brother Frank at writing and also not the same interesting life...got bored really hearing about all the drinking and womanising. ( )
  qofd | Dec 6, 2011 |
It has been many years since I read A Monk Swimming and my lasting memory of reading it is disappoinment. It felt like the author was trying to run with the success of his brothers memoir. His style of writing changed throughout the book and I was surprised this was allowed by his editor. To the reader the inconsistency was annoying.
  TinaC1 | Jul 24, 2011 |
Another of this summer's serendipitous cottage reads, I picked this one up because of his brother Frank. Having read and enjoyed Frank's books, I thought this one would be interesting too. To his credit, Malchy does not try to be something other that what he is: a drunken, brawling S.O.B. He doesn't hide from this, and that, in its own way, is admirable. The stories he tells of the things he has done in his life are humourous, but the writing is choppy and doesn't really flow well together. I'm glad I read this book, but I don't believe I will look for other books by him. ( )
  rapago | Aug 19, 2010 |
Showing 1-5 of 12 (next | show all)
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Dedication
For my beloved brilliant beautiful Diana.
Who gives the resounding yes to life, to love, and to the song of the morning.
I cherish you.
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There is a story in our family that one day my mother was strolling along with my brother Frank and myself, and pushing our twins in a pram.
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(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)
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Amazon.com Amazon.com Review (ISBN 0786884142, Paperback)

Slapped with a libel suit after an appearance on a talk show, Malachy McCourt crows, "If they could only see me now in the slums of Limerick, a big shot, sued for a million. Bejesus, isn't America a great and wonderful country?" His older brother Frank's Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir, Angela's Ashes, took its somber tone from the bleak atmosphere of those slums, while Malachy's boisterous recollections are fueled by his zestful appreciation for the opportunities and oddities of his native land. He and Frank were born in Brooklyn, moved with their parents to Ireland as children, then returned to the States as adults. This book covers the decade 1952-63, when Malachy roistered across the U.S., Europe, and Asia, but spent most of his time in New York City. There his ready wit and quick tongue won him an acting job with the Irish Players, a semiregular stint on the Tonight show hosted by Jack Paar, and friendships with some well-heeled, well-born types who shared his fondness for saloon life and bankrolled him in an East Side saloon that may have been the first singles bar. He chronicles those events--and many others--with back-slapping bonhomie. Although McCourt acknowledges the personal demons that pursued him from his poverty-stricken childhood and destroyed his first marriage, this is on the whole an exuberant autobiography that pays tribute to the joys of a freewheeling life.

(retrieved from Amazon Mon, 30 Sep 2013 13:26:48 -0400)

(see all 4 descriptions)

In 1952, travelling steerage, Malachy McCourt left a childhood of poverty in Limerick, Ireland, heading for the promise of America. This is the story of what he brought with him, and what he thought he left behind. Armed with savage humor and a gift for storytelling, fueled by rage and the desire never to go hungry again, he ran from memories of a drunken, vanished father and the humiliations of Angela, his mother. He arrived in a New York reminiscent of a Damon Runyon saga - a dark, glittering place, with saloons on every corner, and a new story waiting every night. Larger than life, a world-class drinker, McCourt carved out a place for himself: in the saloons, as the first celebrity bartender, mixing with socialites, writers, and movie stars; on stage, performing the works of James Joyce and Brendan Behan; and on television, where the tales he spun made him a Tonight Show regular. He had money and women and, eventually, children of his own; and that's when he found he had not left his memories as far behind as he had thought. From the notorious Tombs prison of New York City, to poolside arrests in Beverly Hills; in the company of gold-smugglers in Zurich and whores in Calcutta; from Paris, to Rome, and to Limerick once more, McCourt fled again, until he had no choice but to stop and turn and face his past.… (more)

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