A Monk Swimming

by Malachy McCourt

Slapped with a libel suit after an appearance on a talk show, Malachy McCourt crows, "If they could only see me now in the slums of Limerick, a big shot, sued for a million. Bejesus, isn't America a great and wonderful country?" His older brother Frank's Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir, Angela's Ashes , took its somber tone from the bleak atmosphere of those slums, while Malachy's boisterous recollections are fueled by his zestful appreciation for the opportunities and oddities of his native land.

He and Frank were born in Brooklyn, moved with their parents to Ireland as children, then returned to the States as adults. This book covers the decade 1952-63, when Malachy roistered across the U.S., Europe, and Asia, but spent most of his time in New York City. There his ready wit and quick tongue won him an acting job with the Irish Players, a semiregular stint on The Tonight Show hosted by Jack Paar, and friendships with some well-heeled, well-born types who shared his fondness for saloon life and bankrolled him in an East Side saloon that may have been the first singles bar. He chronicles those events--and many others--with back-slapping bonhomie.

Although McCourt acknowledges the personal demons that pursued him from his poverty-stricken childhood and destroyed his first marriage, this is on the whole an exuberant autobiography that pays tribute to the joys of a freewheeling life.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Biography, Ireland, Autobiography, Biography Memoir, Humor

304 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1998

About the author

Malachy Gerard McCourt was an American-Irish actor, writer and politician. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Limerick, McCourt appeared in several films and soap operas, including The Molly Maguires, Brewster's Millions (1985), and Another World. He also wrote three memoirs, describing his life in Ireland and in the United States. McCourt was the 2006 Green Party candidate for governor of New York, losing to the Democratic candidate Eliot Spitzer. He was the younger brother of author Frank McCourt.

Reviews

[Kressel Housman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poor Malachy McCourt. When his book came out, the critics said, “He’s not Frank.” Goodreads reviewers echoed the same sentiment. But I don’t think there was much rivalry between them. They shared their fame the same way they pooled money to bring their younger brothers and mother over to the States. Their first writing project was a collaboration - a two-man play I haven’t read yet. And then came the books, which include some interesting overlaps. Malachy depicts Frank as a real gentleman, which comes across in Frank’s own books and the interviews available on Youtube. Frank depicts the child Malachy as a “dote” who could charm any roomful of people and the life of every party in adulthood. That outgoingness definitely comes across in this book, and also, in any interview with Malachy you might want to catch on Youtube.

So it’s true that this book does not have the literary grace of Frank’s books, but my gosh, it’s funny! It’s also a bit ribald; Malachy tells you all about “sampling the fleshpots” in his travels from India to Europe. For that reason, I should probably put it on my “Regrettable Reads” shelf, but I can’t regret anything that made me laugh that hard. Frank’s books also made me laugh hard, but not as much as this. The man who drives me to work wondered, “What are you reading back there?” So I’m definitely looking forward to the resolution of Malachy’s story with his next memoir: how he got sober and lived happily ever after.

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

If you can find any interest into Malachy McCourt's endless pursuit for drinking, promiscuity and living a full-fledged hedonistic lifestyle, then this is the book for you.

Beyond that, he only demonstrates how reprehensibly immoral he is with respect to his treatment of marriage, and more so his dedication to his children. If there is any redemption to be attained on his part, he certainly does not make any case for it.

Yes, the book begins off comically, recounting stories of how he arrives to America and the trials and tribulations that ensue. In the early stages of the book, the stage is potentially set for an unfolding of important events and thus insight or life lessons, ingredients that would suit a memoir-type novel appropriately.

As far as I could tell, what follows for the final 250 pages is a continuous reminder of how much of a sot Malachy was, even though it does prove destructive towards his familial affairs. This as much is even acknowledged by Malachy, though it may only be in retrospect.

If this story provides 'true' accounts and anecdotes of Malachy's life, then it is fair enough to spare any criticism towards lack of plot. That being said, to maintain (at least my) interest, there must be some strategy and compulsion to engage the reader for the long haul. I found none. Rather, I tried to find some comedy in the telling of his stories, and kept optimistic that there would be a valuable lesson or perhaps some epiphany on Malachy's part from his lifelong moral transgressions.
Not likely.

Just as Malachy liked to imbibe and 'dip the wick' to his fulfillment, this book just seems to be an opportunity to bask in his conceit, using his childhood misfortunes as blame for his moral degradation.

I give this review 2 stars because he does provide some momentary humour, and he uses the English language in a creative way to describe situations and express himself.

Beyond this, I have even less respect or admiration for Malachy McCourt than before I had read this.

I'm not sure whether that was his intention.

P.S. I am Irish-Canadian, not too different from the ancestral background of Malachy, and I find it is quite unnecessary to perpetuate the stereotype of Irishmen as being disgraceful drunks and morons.
Didn't his brother Frank McCourt already profit enough of this exploit in his series of novels before this one? (e.g. Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, etc.)

[Terri Enghofer · Rating 5 out of 5]

The negative reviews I've read about Malachy McCourt's memoir, A Monk Swimming, mostly focus on the author's drunken, tawdry, negligent and in general, irresponsible and raucous behavior as he attempts to sketch out a life of normalcy in America. Tsk, tsk, tsk . . . how superficial it is to pass judgement and base your assessment of the honesty he shares in his memoir on those character flaws alone. A drunk? Yes. Irresponsible? Yes. A liar, cheat, womanizer, fast-talker, and opportunist? All yes. But let's look where Malachy came from. Let's look who his role models were. Let's consider the weight the steady verbal and physical lashings the "Catholic" church, Clergy, Sisters and teachers imposed upon him every waking hour of his childhood. Starvation. Poverty. Siblings that died as youngsters as a result of that poverty. A good day was finding a discarded piece of newspaper that once wrapped a helping of fish n' chips--no fish, no chips, just the newspaper, and licking it to taste the remnants of grease that had soaked it through. He and his brother, Frank, rummaged through heaps of fetid garbage to find such a "treat." So, critics, and Two Star Reviewers might say, "Boohoo." "Get over it." "Pull yourself up, Malachy . . . that was Limerick, Ireland . . . now you're in the Land of Opportunity . . . America." "Quit blaming your past and get on with your future." "Quit with the excuses, loser!"

Page after page, Malachy McCourt drinks himself into blind oblivion. He had opportunities as a self-employed bar owner, an off-Broadway actor, a guest on Jack Parr's Tonight Show. He rubbed elbows with Hollywood celebrities, directors, agents. He had a beautiful wife and two children that loved him (once). The support of his brother Frank, who also made his way to America and did, indeed, find success. Malachy blew EVERY chance that he stumbled upon to build a new life, one of normalcy and happiness. Over and over and over again. Every page, heavy with alcoholism and self-abuse. By the end of the story I wanted to take a shower. But throughout this true accounting, I NEVER turned my back on Malachy McCourt. I read his story with a compassionate heart. I gave him credit for waking up everyday and trying again. Honestly, it was beyond belief how he survived physically and mentality the brutality of his actions . . . how he even MANAGED to wake up each morning was a miracle in and of itself.

So I'm giving this memoir 5 Stars. I'm looking forward to reading his sequel, Singing My Him Song, and sitting with Malachy on as many rides it takes for him to find a happy and content life. In 1998 Frank McCourt's, Angela's Ashes, and the sequel, 'Tis, thoroughly rattled me, but also influenced me to look deeper at what fuels people to behave the way they do. Those two books were life-changing for me, just as Malachy's, A Monk Swimming was, and I trust, his sequel, will be. McCourt haters, judgers, and finger-pointers, perhaps you are the ones that need to "Get over it!"

[Tory · Rating 2 out of 5]

"Hastily, I transferred the snow to the burning part of the mattress and extinguished it, I thought, but an hour or so after I went back to sleep, the smoke revisited me. Bounding out of the bed again, I went for a jug of water and sloshed it all over the spifflicated Paterson. The man hardly stirred, but my mission was complete : Fire Out! and back to bed.

Sometime later I was awakened abruptly and rudely by a rough hand shaking and thumping me. When I opened my eyes to see who it was that had the temerity to behave thusly, I almost had the cardiac seizure. I saw a head crowned wit spikes of ice, icily protruding eyebrows and eyelashes, icicled dripping from the nose. In a very high, indignant voice, the arctic apparition informed me that he was nearly frozen to death. Never in his life had he been subjected to such a horrible place, and he was leaving, and there was no point in trying to stop him."

"In Zurich… Everything was neat and symmetrical and orderly, and not a thing in sight to disturb the color scheme. Flowers, shrubs, and plants all clipped and leaning in unison to the direction of the unseen hand. There were people washing and hosing pavements, cleaning windows, polishing bells, painting walls, and generally doing violence to the natural orders of things. A weed poking its cheery little head up through a crack in a footpath would be cause for mobilization of the Swiss Army and their knives."

This book is the memoirs of Malachy McCourt, who I’d never heard of before I read this book. His brother is the author of Anglela’s Ashes, which I have not read.

A lot of this book was funny, really really funny. But then the rest was just his sad and slightly pathetic existence of drinking and making an ass of himself. It was the drunken tales of an alcoholic. The end was him screaming at his Father for being a drunk that abandoned his family, yet really, it was the same thing he had done. And that was it.

It never went on to say if he became a good father - you know, one that didn’t leave the country for months on end, and didn’t spend every penny he had on the sauce, or ever got his shit together.

So beside some of the funny scenes, the beginning romanticized alcoholism, and the end was incomplete. Maybe that's because it was a memoir and he wasn't dead. Who knows.

[Terri · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like Malachy McCourt, I met him in Angela's Ashes, and was so glad he'd made his way to the US and a possible fortunate future with food and housing.

Malachy McCourt takes all the goodness and prosperity that was before him and drinks it away, just like his father. That isn't reason to give this book a 2 star rating though.

The rating is because the book is a shallow account of a shallow man who in writing this book is a name dropping account of his tenuous stardom.

The book started of well enough; McCourt can be a very clever writer but it just got so egotistical- how many women he could and did sleep with, how many drinks he could and did drink. how many people he could and did swear at, how many well known people he could and did insult. His writing ability deserved better than this

The best of the book is to be read in the last part five- Father to the Man. It is heartbreaking and so well written. Would that the whole book had been so well written...

[Ron · Rating 1 out of 5]

Malachy McCourt's attempt to profit from his brother's fame.

Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes and 'Tis (and most recently Teacher Man), captured the hard-knock world of growing up in an impoverished Irish family, of making it to America - somewhat successfully.

His brother Malachy abuses the McCourt name to tell 'bar stories'. He constantly dropped names of minor celebrities - people he had had a drink with. I got bored of the whole thing after a few chapters. I kept waiting for the 'good parts', but unfortunately, there weren't any.

[Shannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this book. I found it in a used bookstore while on vacation. I'd read Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, and Teacher Man (and done book reports on the first two for school), so my eyes lit up when I saw another McCourt memoir. I was at the beach, and I had a desire for some light reading (to go with a Dubliners CD I'd just gotten), and this fit the bill 100%. It's a much lighter story than Angela's Ashes, being devoid of most of the grimmer bits. The difference in the writing style of the two brothers is immediately evident, though they share a similar taste for throwing dark humor at all the right points, a characteristic of Irish storytelling. Frank is the scholar of the two oldest McCourt brothers, and Malachy's memoir is far more action-based, describing visits with the Winston family, appearances on television, and trips to India. The narration is far more outgoing than his brother's style.

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

You want to hate Malachy McCourt, he's a womanizer, an alcoholic, a terrible friend and even more terrible brother. He hurts people, leaves his bills unpaid, and deserts his family. And yet I enjoyed reading his story and about his adventures. I think he made it in life because he is charasmatic and witty, and that comes through in his writing. He makes Frank McCourt come across as the beleagured, responsible one, and Malachy is the "good time" guy, only his life isn't just fun. He openly discusses what a jerk he is and how he destroys good things in his life. It's an interesting look at a larger than life character.

[Bonnie Parent · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book and fell in love with Malachy, but I need to know more!
His storytelling is so funny and engaging, yet sad at the same time. Now, I want to know what has happened to him after he finished writing the book. I couldn't help but feel a little empty afterwards. Did he stop drinking? Has he come to grips with his childhood? What about his own relationship with his kids? So many questions, I'll just have to find more of his books.

[Roberta · Rating 2 out of 5]

Well, he's no Frank McCourt. That's for sure.

[Faith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Malachy McCourt is Frank McCourt's brother (u know Angela's Ashes). It's very obvious that they are brothers. They've got the same kind of humor and attitude to life. And they are good storytellers too. But however, the truth is that it is Frank, the older brother, who is the real literary genius, Or then it's just that he writes about "more interesting things". Well, they both write about their own lives, and Malachy's surely is more unusual. Traveling around the world and smuggling gold... while Frank "only" became a high school teacher. Well, Malachy seams like an idiot sometimes, but still he manages to make me sympathize with him, even thou he really is just stupid. Malachy clearly is the tougher brother. But I do indeed like Frank more. All in all it was very interesting to read about Malachy's life. It gave an other view to the events in Frank's sequel to Angela's Ashes.

And the funniest thing is the title. It's from the catholic Hail Mary -prayer: "Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou amongst women..." or like little Malachy misheard it "Blessed art thou, a monk swimming - Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the end. Amen. " I think this is hilarious! With such prayers I do see why the McCourts are what they are... "Fader vår, som är i himmelen, helgat vare ditt namn, tillkomme ditt rike..." Well, is that much better really? Well a bit, and at least I'm not an atheist even thou I rarely say it anymore.

[Chana · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I read Frank McCourt's book "Angela's Ashes" I cried so much that pretty soon I didn't even have to read it, I would pick it up and start sobbing. I never cried so much in my life.
Malachy McCourt is Frank's younger brother. He is the wild one to his older brother's more responsible and measured nature. Malachy has a wonderful voice, he is very funny, but this book is so painful. I didn't cry like I did with Angela's Ashes but I felt the pain. All of Malachy's drinking and antics and rages and jokes...just pain and more pain.
If you are not familiar with either brother or book; they grew up in dire poverty in Limerick, Ireland. Real poverty, not the kind of poverty that has a T.V. and an indoor toilet. Their upbringing was more than tragic. Their Dad was an alcoholic, Malachy is as well. Whatever hope the family might have had was destroyed with the drinking.
This book is not the classic that Angela's Ashes is, but I think it gives a lot of insight to what happens in an alcoholic and desperately poor family who suffer various abuses. Malachy was not a likeable person much of the time, but my heart always went out to him anyway. And like I said he does possess a wonderful wit and an amusing way with words.

[Nick Murray · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyed his storytelling and his descriptions, but at times everything felt like one big joke rather than his life unfolding before him. Sometimes it felt repetitive, and maybe that's what life comes. 3/5 because I could put it down.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed being a voyeur on this 290 page, 10 year pub crawl through mid-century New York. In his day Malachy was a prolific philanderer, drinker, footballer and con man. Never wanting for enthusiasm or humor, there are also deep roots of rage at his father who subjected his children to an alcohol induced poverty before abandoning them. MM's desire to escape this upbringing propels him to heights of fame and frolic before he too sadly falls from the weight of his own inebriated, self absorption. While the alcohol and subsequent cycle of self-pity and anger nearly extinguishes the bright fire in his soul, by journey's end we see a man who may finally be on a path to evolve beyond Einstein's definition of insanity: "Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." McCourt is candid in his self-appraisal and I'm not generating any media alerts here. He has said the same about himself during this early period of his life.

[Louise · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book wasn't as well written as Malachy's brother Frank's Angela's Ashes and Tis was. Although he makes a good attempt at getting his story across, I found his choice of words at times left alot to be desired. I feel he could have written a better memoir that would have held the readers attention easier than the "force yourself to finish it" mode I was in. Nonetheless, not a bad story just not high on my list as one of the better books I've read.

[Lauren · Rating 5 out of 5]

Once you get through the Irish jargon - this book is hilarious! I enjoy reading both brothers (McCourt's) accounts on moving to America. They are great story tellers.

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Funny & real

[Neal Reinhardt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Page 191 reveals the mystery of the books title. A penance he recited. Hail Mary,full of grace, The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou amongst women. Or as he misheard it as a child Blessed art thou, a monk swimming. With that being said, McCourts memoir is entertaining enough. Intentionally butchering the English language while reliving his younger years. Sidebar, I purchased this book at a eclectic bookstore in Duluth while on our first vacation as a family. Book is a memory.

[Marlee Tyldesley · Rating 2 out of 5]

Great story telling abilities but too much debauchery and deplorable stories for my taste.

[Osmosisch · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is really hard to rate, because on the one hand, there's the frequently hilarious exploits of a charming drunk, then on the other hand, there's the destruction of self and others that goes with it, and the fact that the book at least pretends to autobiography makes things a lot less funny when you realise that yes, he did abandon wife and children to go drinking and having fun.

I'll credit the author with at least superficial honesty, and from looking up some facts on his life, he does seem to have turned things around at a later date, but within this book, no redemption is to be found.

[Ellie O'Day · Rating 3 out of 5]

Actually I didn't quite finish. Got weary of his randy escapades.
For a while it was entertaining - but he's no writer like his older brother Frank (Angela's Ashes).

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Malachy McCourt was a younger brother of the well-known memoir writer Frank McCourt who won the Pulitzer Prize for his book "Angela's Ashes". It doesn't mean Malachy was riding Frank's coat tails. He did initially follow his older brother to the U.S. but that seemed to be the only they shared, If there ever was a stereotypical Irishman Malachy who seemed to drink and fight his way through life. He managed to find his way to being a part part bar owner and even manged to appear on television as a local character while living in New York City. Played on an Irish rugby team and managed to encounter future senator Ted Kennedy at Harvard. He also allegedly encountered members of the royal family too. After that he found a way to supplement his income by smuggling gold bars from Europe to India. After all that he managed somehow to get married and have a baby.

Much of the book is lighthearted and will make you laugh at times. He saves his most serious moments for when for his parents, especially in some anger towards his father who spent most of his time drinking and was in out out of jail leaving Malachy's mother , Angela, raise a family in poverty alone. After Angela, with the help of Frank and Malaky emigrates to the U.S. the father begs, pleads and cajoles his family to bring him over too. Frank and Malaky are skeptical but bow to their mother's wishes to bring him over and give him a chance. It turned out he hadn't changed and was still the same unrepentant alcoholic whom the boys wanted nothing to do with.

Overall the book is an entertaining trip with Malaky who is witty, boisterous and adventuresome. It has it's touching moments but is not as heavy as his brother's more famous memoir. His older brother Frank seemed to be the more intellectual and serious type verses the more out-going and adventurous Malaky. Enjoy.

[Christopher Wolowski · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had just finished reading Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt, so I thought I’d follow it up with his brother Malachy.

A Monk Swimming is nearly 300 pages of drunkenness, debauchery, pretension, lasciviousness, and using ten dollar words where a fifty cent one would suffice. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any moral compunction against reading drunkenness and debauchery. . .providing it is written well. Problem is, this book isn’t particularly well written. Funny at times, it also seems to be tinged with anger and bitterness.

Mr. McCourt has lived a moderately interesting life, yet I found the story of that life to be mostly boring and repetitious. He definitely has a way with words, but a drunken one-night stand is still a drunken one-night stand, no matter the words used to describe it.

The only thing keeping me from giving this memoir one star instead of two, is the last chapter. Instead of trying too hard to be funny, clever, and impressive, those final two pages were real and filled with heart. If only the same could be said of the first 288 pages.

[Annett · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not quite sure why I bought this book in the first place (some 13 years ago...), I set to reading it in my quest to eliminate (i.e. read) as many unread books as possible from my shelf. Malachy McCourt (yes, Frank "Angela's Ashes" McCourt's brother) tells the story of his life from his early twenties, when he arrived in the USA with a few flashbacks to his childhood in Limerick. With no job and hardly any education, he rises from dockworker to barman to TV star und finally becomes a gold smuggler in order to earn enough money to spend on drink and women. The language is fun to read but why he relates these stories to a wider audience remains a mystery to me. The second half of the book - after the separation from his wife and mother of his two children - becomes extremely repetetive and the drinking stories have long ceased to be funny. Well, one down, a lot more to go... .

[Frances Sawaya · Rating 1 out of 5]

Given my respect for Frank McCourt and his apparent love for his brother, Malachy, I was eager to read this first book of Malachy's. Very disappointing. He never chooses the most direct word when a four or five syllable one will do. Silly and pretentious style! Seemed as if he was trying to coast on Frank's successes.

[Gutman · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing is a pleasure to read, and Malachy is quite the character. Glaringly and simultaneously entertaining as well as sad, another McCourt survives his fairly self-destructive tendencies and lives life in the fast lane, throwing sense and caution to the wind. While those closest to him surely feel the pain, we readers can enjoy the laughs from afar.

[Jules · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some good anecdotes here but Frank's brother is a walking cliché; drunken, fighting, Brit-hating, hell-raising Irishman. A selfish, self-obsessed nightmare as a husband and father, only half redeemed by his honesty about his short-comings and coming across somewhat as a bit of a bully. Read Frank instead.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Malachy is a great character of non-fiction... The title is from a mistake made as a lad while reciting the Hail Mary (blessed art thou, a monk swimming)... He's a deep thinker w/ a strong brotherly bond... Neither he, nor Frank, survive w/o the other... greatest thing about the Irish culture is pulling humor from desperation; he's one of Ireland's best

[Velvetink · Rating 4 out of 5]

one grows to like McCourt for his honesty and to sympathize with him for the struggle he wages with a mind that he describes as "leaping about like a caged and vicious rodent" whenever he wakes up after a night of drink.

[Jean · Rating 1 out of 5]

just couldn't finish this book. I didn't like his writing style, particularly his use of a words seemed geared to impress, rather than express. It rambled on and threw around lots of famous names. the story might have been good but couldn't get through the trappings to enjoy it.