Frank McCourt's Voice in Angela's Ashes
00:30 Frank McCourt
I was writing the first nineteen pages of the book about my mother and father meeting in New York and having me. And then, I made a note on the left page about my earliest memory, which is being in a playground on Classon Avenue in Brooklyn, on a see-saw and I wrote: "I'm on a see-saw on Classon Avenue in Brooklyn," and…I wrote this note in the present tense, unlike the first nineteen pages which are written in the past tense. I wrote "I'm with my brother Malachy, he's two, I'm three." So that's the present tense. Voice of the child. I didn't know what I was doing at that moment. The next day, I continue writing in that voice. And in the present tense. And now he's home free, so to speak. I had the voice, this is what I wanted. This is what I was looking for subconsciously and it just came. God or somebody sent me the voice, and that's what I felt comfortable with. That voice.

All you could get on the St. Vincent Paul docket was a pig's head. And my mother wanted something else besides a pig's head for Christmas. But "The butcher takes the pig's head off a shelf and when Malachy says, "Ooh, look at the dead dog," the butcher and Mam burst out laughing. He wraps the head in newspaper, hands it to Mam and says, "Happy Christmas." Then he wraps up some sausages and tells her, "Take these sausages for your breakfast on Christmas Day." Mam says, "Oh, I can't afford sausages," and he says, "Am I asking you for money? Am I? Take these sausages. They might help make up for the lack of a goose or a ham."
"Sure, you don't have to do that," says Mam.
"I know that, missus. If I had to do it, I wouldn't."
Mam says she has a pain in her back, that I'll have to carry the pig's head. I hold it against my chest but it's damp and when the newspaper begins to fall away everyone can see the head. Mam says, "I'm ashamed of me life that the world should know we're having pig's head for Christmas." Boys from Leamy's National School see me and they point and laugh. "Aw, Gawd, look at Frankie McCourt an' his pig's snout. Is that what the Yanks have for Christmas dinner, Frankie?"
One calls to another, "Hey, Christy, do you know how to ate a pig's head?"
"No, I don't, Paddy."
"Grab him by the ears and chew the face offa him."
And Christy says, "Hey, Paddy, do you know the only part of the pig the McCourts don't ate?"
"No, I don't, Christy."
"The only part they don't ate is the oink."
After a few streets the newspaper is gone altogether and everyone can see the pig's head. His nose is flat against my chest and pointing up at my chin and I feel sorry for him because he's dead and the world is laughing at him. My sister and two brothers are dead, too, but if anyone laughed at them I'd hit them with a rock.
I wish Dad would come and help us because Mam has to stop every few steps and lean against a wall. She's holding her back and telling us she'll never be able to make it up Barrack Hill. Even if Dad came he wouldn't be much use because he never carries anything, parcels, bags, packages. "If you carry such things you lose your dignity." That's what he says. He carried the twins when they were tired and he carried the Pope's picture, but that was not the same as carrying ordinary things like pig's head. He tells Malachy and me that when you grow up you have to wear a collar and tie and never let people see you carry things.