Rating: 
Summary: Can't wait for the next of the brothers books.
Review: The one review is right, if you don't get the humor then you won't like the book.I loved the book. I got the joke. You have to have lived to be able to identify with the McCourts,and if you haven't then it isn't Mr McCourts fault. It's no fair comparing the two brothers . I can't wait for the rest of the family history,Alphie or Mike, I am looking forward to hearing from you.
Rating: 
Summary: I very much wanted to like this book... but was disappointed
Review: McCourt's bawdy memoir left me disappointed. His tales of bar-hopping, name-dropping, gold-smuggling, and family-desertion had me rolling my eyes. Yes, I had a couple of chuckles at Malachy's adventures, but they were few and far between. I bought the book because he was Frank's brother and thought it would be a decent read. This is only the second time in my life I wanted to return the book and ask for my cash back.
Rating: 
Summary: Clever phrases can't excuse Malachy McCourt's sordid youth.
Review: Malacy McCourt isn't the writer his brother Frank is, although he can sometimes turn a clever phrase. However, his facility for language can't hide the fact that he spent his early days in New York engaged in boozing, whoring, and illegal activity. Perhaps we're supposed to find his antics amusing or cute, but to me this is a tale of a wasted, squalid life. Since the book ends somewhere in the 60's, I smell a sequel coming, wherein I'm sure Mr. McCourt has an ephiphany and turns his life around. I won't be wasting my time reading it, though. Let's be honest--were it not for the success (and rightfully earned success) of "Angela's Ashes," would anyone care about Malachy McCourt or his book?
Rating:
Summary: An embarrassment.
Review: I really wanted to love "A Monk Swimming," having thouroughly enjoyed "Angela's Ashes." In that wonderful book, Frank and his siblings, mother and father are presented with depth and sympathy that brings the reader both tears and fits of laughter. Compare that to "A Monk Swimming." Wife, kids, Frank, et al. are practically footnotes, along with a few celebrities in a disorganized tale of binge drinking and irresponsibility. To paraphrase one chapter, "I was on the Jack Parr show, but I was so drunk I can't remember what I said." What kind of memoir is that? The book is peppered with a sometimes absurd leftish political commentary on historical events McCourt had no place in, such as noting that Russian royalists and aristocrats and those who emulate them, "have done more damage than all the Stalins and Maos put together." Whether or not this claim is supportable, is that what he beleived at the time, or is it what he beleives now? If the latter, then who cares? One point of high drama occurs late in the book, where McCourt mentions that he tended bar for a while in the unofficial hangout of the John Birch society. Very scary. I give "A Monk Swimming" two stars because it containts a few anecdotes about his parents' later years. Despite my complaints, if Malachy McCourt ever writes another book, I'll probably read it. Both brothers are persons I'd like to know.
Rating:
Summary: Blarney taken much too far
Review: I had expected something much better. Malachy McCourt certainly has the gift of the gab, and excessive gab it is. A Monk Swimming seems to be nothing more than a bunch of locker room talk taken a bit too far, or rather, chatter overheard in one of the many pubs and barrooms the reader is forced to frequent repeatedly with McCourt. In the first half of the book, McCourt's name dropping and resulting egocentrism lends the reader to view him as nothing more than a hanger-on in a social circle he stumbled into. His excessive verbosity (irony intended) is tiring and makes this a tremendously tedious read in spots. For much better writing, stick to the italicized passages at the beginning of some chapters, and particularly the last two pages; they are more cohesive and better developed than the rest of the book as a whole and don't subject the reader to juvenile anecdotes or repeated displays of immaturity and irresponsibility. There is only so much money-borrowing, drinking and reliance on others for employment I can stand! Freeloading at its finest is the best description I can come up with.I was surprised that the stories of McCourt's exploits truly underscore the stereotypical (and in my opinion, incorrect) view of the Irish immigrant to America, sadly enough. The womanizing, drinking, financial instability and irresponsibility are not typical, and should not be treated as lightly as they were here. After reading this book, I see nothing that I would've been proud to include in my memoirs. In the years covered by this book, McCourt doesn't do much better than his father did, including drinking himself silly, abandoning his innocent offspring and wife and holding down fly-by-night jobs. Maybe I did miss the point here, because I found this a rather embarassing read.
Rating:
Summary: Self-Congratulations On a Pathetic Life
Review: I was disappointed in Malachy McCourt's memoir after being totally absorbed and enthralled by his brother Frank's book. Fortunately for Malachy, Frank's book will drive his sales way up; but unfortunately for Malachy, we will all compare his meager offerings with Frank's rich story. From the very beginning, A Monk Swimming wallows in self-congratulation for excessive drinking, carousing, womanizing, and hobnobbing with the rich and famous. He feels that this is his right for growing up poor, and perhaps it is. The stories are often amusing, but they seem rather pointless, serving only to boost the ego of the author. As Malachy wanders aimlessly about life, we begin to understand that his life, like the stream of stories in his book, is also rather pointless. He also seems pathetic, because he has so much self-pity over his family life, yet he can't climb out of his bad habits to do any of the things he wants to do to make things right. Unfortunately for Malachy, that makes him a lot like the father he has little respect for. Is this the point of his book?
Rating:
Summary: If you don't love it, you didn't understand it.
Review: Perusing the reviews made me realize what an egocentric place the world is. Malachy's writing not only liberates the soul, but gives anyone who's ever done anything out of the ordinary in their humdrum lives, a little measure of hope. We're not alone, there a lot of us out there that have shared the grape, the rape, the pope, the dope and have come through somehow with a functioning family life and something of value to look back on. Three cheers for Malachy who puts it in perspective. A pennyless entry onto the New York fifty's scene. Hobnobbing with the elite, while mixing potent quaffs of forgetfulness for N.Y.'s minnions, a bit of Irish blarney and a lot of Irish talent, that opens the door to broadway and the movies and so on...But it's all with a sense of laughter about himself and a send up of the serious way we take ourselves. If Malachy has done anything, it's an honest look at the inside of all of us and the fearlessness to putting it down on paper. His brother Frank started us off with a Tomic virtuosity remenescent of the great Irish authoring establishment and Malachy continues his brothers great contribution to literature by putting a twinkle in the eye of all of us who have wished, but not have had the guts to do so. Bravo McCourts, keep the stories coming.
Rating:
Summary: Malachy McCourt is the very best bartender shanachie alive!
Review: As a liquor industry historian, I've read everything I could find on the topic. Malachy McCourt belongs in the upper echlons with H.L. Menchen, Bob Considine, Art Buchwald and Pete Hamill. "A monk Swimming" shows a joyously troubled search for any truth and much of the intense dynamic of saloon life. The play and thrusting of language is akin to having a large dram in the wee hours of New York City. One can only hope that this is the very first of Malachy's published works. The dear folk who will not like this book have never been behind a bar for a living, never felt the wonderful ding of a clean soccer hit, never been decountried or hangovered and, in short, their funny bones have osteoporosis. My highest rating for a story rendered with such painful honesty and jest.
Rating:
Summary: I was disappointed with this book
Review: I must say that I missed the humor in this book. It appears to me that the author is trading off the popularity of his brother. The best writing was on the last two pages.If the author had written his book with the same feeling as these pages it would have been an excellent piece of work.
Rating:
Summary: Let Malachy McCourt show you the town.
Review: Malachy McCourt's book had me captured in the first two pages by his turn of phrase and lust for life. It doesn't get any better than this. His surpasses most memoirs of his generation by the force of his personality, wit and use of language. I suffered due to the fact that I didn't want to put the book down and I didn't want it to end. A Monk Swimming brought to mind the fine adventures of Art Buchwald's New York tale, but McCourt's storytelling is an unsurpassed read. I was on the phone after the laughing my way through the first few pages imploring my friends to join me and Malachy as we "hit the town". What a joy. Don't miss out on the fun!
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