Frank mccourt author biography page
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Frank McCourt
Irish-American writer
For other people named Frank McCourt, see Frank McCourt (disambiguation).
Frank McCourt | |
|---|---|
McCourt in 2006 | |
| Born | Francis McCourt (1930-08-19)August 19, 1930 New York City, U.S. |
| Died | July 19, 2009(2009-07-19) (aged 78) New York City, U.S. |
| Citizenship | |
| Alma mater | |
| Occupations | |
| Notable work | Angela's Ashes (1996) 'Tis (1999) Teacher Man (2005) |
| Spouses |
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| Parent(s) | Malachy Gerald McCourt, Sr Angela Sheehan |
| Relatives | Brothers Malachy McCourt Michael McCourt Alphie McCourt |
| Awards | Pulitzer Prize for Biography or Autobiography in 1997 |
Francis McCourt (August 19, 1930 – July 19, 2009) was an Irish-American teacher and writer. He won
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Frank McCourt
Francis McCourt (August 19, 1930 – July 19, 2009) was an Irish-American teacher and writer. He won a Pulitzer Prize for his book Angela's Ashes (book). It was made into a movie, Angela's Ashes. It is a memoir of his childhood.[1]
He taught at six New York schools, including McKee Vocational and Technical High School in Staten Island, New York City College of Technology in Brooklyn, Seward Park High School, Washington Irving High School, and the High School of Fashion Industries, all in Manhattan.
In May 2009, McCourt announced he had been treated for melanoma and that he was in remission.[2] Two months later, he died from meningitis caused by the disease on July 19, 2009 under hospice care in New York City, a month before his 79th birthday.[3]
Works
[change | change source]References
[change | change source]- ↑Grossman, Lev (July 19, 2009). "Frank McCourt, 'Angela's Ashes' Author, Dies". TIME. Retrieved A
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Frank McCourt
You’ve certainly addressed this question in your first book, but to begin with, what was your childhood like?
Frank McCourt: It was rich in the sense that, even though we were poor, at the lowest level, even below the lowest economic level, we were always excited. It was rich in the sense that we had a lot to look up to, to look forward to, a lot to aspire to, a lot to dream about. But in economic circumstances it was desperate. It was Calcutta with rain. At least they’re warm in Calcutta. But it was desperate because of certain things, ingredients like my father being an alcoholic, my mother having too many babies in too short a time, no work available in Ireland, and even when my father did get a job he drank the wages. Then there was the harsh kind of schooling we had with school masters who ruled with a stick and then because of the overwhelming presence of the church, which imbued us with fear all the time. So it was fear, dampness, poverty, alcoho