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At first, I thought this one’s fictional for a film (with the same title) is based on this one. Having started the book that I’ve learned immediately that this is an autobiographical account of the author for if one doesn’t have an idea, he surely might ask if this one’s a memoir (though it may be obvious that the protagonist and author shares the same name). For you see, Frank McCourt narrates his childhood life with a prose using his own childhood words (thus the reason one might think this is fiction). As if little Frankie sits’s up for an interview and tells you his whole life story.

The book may strike the reader as a slow and a boring read but as one read through; you’ll get use to it that it’s like looking his experiences through child’s eyes.  You can smell the burning coal, taste the spoiled milk, feel the damp floor, experience the leaking roof, and be gloomy about the moment’s depression. It’s a pretty heartbreaking story coming from a child who doesn’t have a choice in life but to accept things as they are and try to find the available (and as much as possible) solution to every problem they encounter.

This is a coming of age novel that is told brilliantly for you can feel that as you leap through the pages, the main character’s voice grows within as he becomes more matured in his life. I wouldn’t tell the meaning behind the title for I might spoil something good about the book so you guys have to check this out.

The book spans a sequel, and because I enjoyed the author’s adventures, I might as well pick that one.

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