Michiko Kakutani concluded her review in The New York Times of Angela's Ashes by writing "The reader of this stunning memoir can only hope that Mr. McCourt will set down the story of his subsequent adventures in America in another book. Angela's Ashes is so good it deserves a sequel."[2] McCourt "has used the storytelling gifts he inherited from his father to write a book that redeems the pain of his early years with wit and compassion and grace." The book is compared "with The Liars Club by Mary Karr and Andre Aciman's Out of Egypt as a classic modern memoir." McCourt writes without bitterness about his epic tale of woe, though "there is plenty a less generous writer might well be judgmental about." The review is peppered with quotations from the book showing the author's style. Kakutani remarks that "Writing in prose that's pictorial and tactile, lyrical but streetwise, Mr. McCourt does for the town of Limerick what the young Joyce did for Dublin: he conjures the place for us with such intimacy that we feel we've walked its streets and crawled its pubs."[2] This review is strong in its analysis of the book as well-written and modern, comparable with great writers. The scope of the "memoir is not just the story of his family's struggles, but the story of his own sentimental education: his discovery of poetry and girls, and his efforts to come to terms with God and death and faith. By 11, he's the chief breadwinner for the family. By 15, he's lost his first girlfriend to tuberculosis. By 19, he's saved enough money to make his escape to the States."[2]
In its review, Kirkus Reviews has strong praise: "An extraordinary work in every way. McCourt magically retrieves love, dignity, and humor from a childhood of hunger, loss and pain." This is the first book by McCourt. It is "a powerful, exquisitely written debut, a recollection of the author's miserable childhood in the slums of Limerick, Ireland, during the Depression and World War II."[3]
Nina King wrote in The Washington Post that "This memoir is an instant classic of the genre -- all the more remarkable for being the 66-year-old McCourt's first book." She summarized her review by saying that "Angela's Ashes confirms the worst old stereotypes about the Irish, portraying them as drunken, sentimental, bigoted, bloody-minded dreamers, repressed sexually and oppressed politically, nursing ancient grievances while their children (their far-too-many children) go hungry. ... at the same time that it transcends them through the sharpness and precision of McCourt's observation and the wit and beauty of his prose."[4]
Reviewing the book at its publication in 1996, John Blades wrote in the Chicago Tribune that "Like McCourt himself, Angela's Ashes is a bundle of contradictions, as uproarious as they are grievous, whether the young Frankie is pushing his baby brother around Limerick, dumping loose coal and turf into his pram; his "pious, defeated" mother is begging a sheep's head for their Christmas dinner; or his soused father is rousing the boys in the middle of the night to sing "Kevin Barry" and other patriotic Irish songs." The book event was held in at the Mercury Theater and the adjoining Chicago bar; the book is a debut for McCourt but he had "been a familiar figure on local stages during the '80s. Billing themselves as "A Couple of Blaguards," he and his younger brother, Malachy, re-enacted their Limerick boyhood in story, song and verse for audiences at the Royal George and other theaters." McCourt's book places "McCourt's mother, Angela, [as] the nominal heroine of his memoir, eternally on the dole, pathetically trying to clothe and feed her sons. But it's the blackguard father, also named Malachy, who obsesses McCourt, and who commandeers center stage in his memoir, long after he's abandoned his wife and family." At the book event, McCourt notes that most of the reviews of his memoir call it "lyrical and charming," but he says that "what gives Irish writing its distinctive flavor is not the charming stuff but the darkness."[5]
In a review of the book and its audio book version released in 1997, Gayle Sims wrote that it is the "only book that I unequivocally recommend listening to instead of reading." She explains why the narration makes a better experience than reading on paper, as the author "reads the narrative in his everyday dialect, yet he is able to give it the voice of a child. This works particularly well because Angela's Ashes is written from a child's unjudging perspective." Although the tough, challenging and sad events of his childhood might present a negative story to the reader or listener, "The book is full of tears and laughter. McCourt is forgiving of his family's tragic life. When he reads, there is no rancor in his voice."[6]
Writing a review in 2020, Ashley Nelson stated "This story is challenging to the emotions; it deals with many elements and situations that make people uncomfortable. However, it has you holding back laughter, as Frank McCourt has this magical ability to make light of being starving in the pouring rain walking through the streets of Limerick. This book has you feel love, loss, fear, hunger, and the will to overcome uncertainty." This book is a "quintessential coming of age story viewed through the grimy, unyielding, and sometimes downright heartbreaking lens of poverty. It follows Frank McCourt as he comically explains the dire circumstances of his conception, birth, and life."[7]
