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BACK IN PRINT!"A rollicking good read that, as the Irish say, would make a dead man laugh." ―Philadelphia InquirerMalachy McCourt was already famous as an actor, saloon-keeper, and late-night television personality when Angela's Ashes was published. Brother Frank's book introduced the incorrigible, indomitable young Malachy to a worldwide audience that was charmed, and clamored for more.Frank's book was a hard act to follow, but Malachy's delightful memoir, which picked up where Angela's Ashes left off, won critical acclaim and commercial success.Born in Brooklyn, and raised in the lanes of Limerick, Malachy returned to New York in 1952, at age 20. After stints in the Air Force and as a longshoreman, he parlayed his gifts of gab and conviviality into an ownership position at Malachy's―the first singles' bar―located around the corner from the Barbizon Hotel for young women, whose glamorous residents frequently repaired to Malachy's for a tipple and flirt.Malachy's madcap, manic life ricocheted from higher highs to lower lows as he tried selling Bibles at the beach on Fire Island and smuggling gold in Zurich. He entertained a voracious public on the stage as a member of the Irish Players and was a semi-regular on the Tonight Show with Jack Paar. In these years, he was almost always drunk, almost always chasing (or being chased) by women. His gifts for language and storytelling are so well honed that when you read A Monk Swimming, "You'll laugh uncontrollably . . . You're in the grip of a master raconteur" (Houston Chronicle).Now the last of the McCourts of Limerick, Malachy reflects on the tumultuous events of the twenty-five years since he wrote A MONK SWIMMING in his Afterword."Read it and weep: they don't make lives like this anymore." -The Irish Voice
Before he runs out of time, Irish bon vivant Malachy McCourt shares his views on death - sometimes hilarious and often poignant - and on what will or won't happen after his last breath is drawn.During the course of his life, Malachy McCourt practically invented the single's bar; was a pioneer in talk radio, a soap opera star, a best-selling author; a gold smuggler, a political activist, and a candidate for governor of the state of New York. It seems that the only two things he hasn't done are stick his head into a lion's mouth and die. Since he is allergic to cats, he decided to write about the great hereafter and answer the question on most minds: What's so great about it anyhow? In Death Need Not Be Fatal, McCourt also trains a sober eye on the tragedies that have shaped his life: the deaths of his sister and twin brothers; the real story behind Angela's famous ashes; and a poignant account of the death of the man who left his mother, brothers, and him to nearly die in squalor. McCourt writes with deep emotion of the staggering losses of all three of his brothers, Frank, Mike, and Alphie. In his inimitable way, McCourt takes the grim reaper by the lapels and shakes the truth out of him. As he rides the final blocks on his Rascal scooter, he looks too at the prospect of his own demise with emotional clarity and insight. In this beautifully rendered memoir, McCourt shows us how to live life to its fullest, how to grow old without acting old, and how to die without regret.
BACK IN PRINT!¿A rollicking good read that, as the Irish say, would make a dead man laugh.¿ ¿Philadelphia InquirerMalachy McCourt was already famous as an actor, saloon-keeper, and late-night television personality when Angela's Ashes was published. Brother Frank's book introduced the incorrigible, indomitable young Malachy to a worldwide audience that was charmed, and clamored for more.Frank's book was a hard act to follow, but Malachy's delightful memoir, which picked up where Angela's Ashes left off, won critical acclaim and commercial success.Born in Brooklyn, and raised in the lanes of Limerick, Malachy returned to New York in 1952, at age 20. After stints in the Air Force and as a longshoreman, he parlayed his gifts of gab and conviviality into an ownership position at Malachy's¿the first singles' bar¿located around the corner from the Barbizon Hotel for young women, whose glamorous residents frequently repaired to Malachy's for a tipple and flirt.Malachy's madcap, manic life ricocheted from higher highs to lower lows as he tried selling Bibles at the beach on Fire Island and smuggling gold in Zurich. He entertained a voracious public on the stage as a member of the Irish Players and was a semi-regular on the Tonight Show with Jack Paar. In these years, he was almost always drunk, almost always chasing (or being chased) by women. His gifts for language and storytelling are so well honed that when you read A Monk Swimming, ¿You'll laugh uncontrollably . . . You're in the grip of a master raconteur¿ (Houston Chronicle).Now the last of the McCourts of Limerick, Malachy reflects on the tumultuous events of the twenty-five years since he wrote A MONK SWIMMING in his Afterword.¿Read it and weep: they don't make lives like this anymore.¿ ¿The Irish Voice
An entertaining memoir of a rollicking life in New York of an Irish immigrant.
Before he runs out of time, Irish bon vivant MALACHY MCCOURT shares his views on death - sometimes hilarious and often poignant - and on what will or won't happen after his last breath is drawn.
A private tour through the world of Frank McCourt's Pulitzer Prize winning memoir.
"Bestselling author Malachy McCourt recounts the story of Ireland's timeless symbol of loyalty, friendship, and love, a ring design of two clasped hands that is worn by millions worldwide. Following th"
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