Angela’s Ashes: Hyperbole 5 key examples

McCourt’s use of hyperbole in “the minute she loses one child there is another on the way” exaggerates Angela’s pregnancies while also dismissing her grief over her dead children. They are tacitly criticizing her, implying that she is constantly pregnant with no pause and it's her own fault. There’s an implied disgust with both Angela and Malachy Sr. in this letter, as the aunts say that Malachy Sr. has “no control” over himself. They claim that people from the North “have no control over themselves” in general, as though Malachy Sr.’s nationality directly leads to Angela’s repeated pregnancies and the family’s hardships. This sweeping statement reduces Frank's father's character to a stereotype, totally dismissing his individuality.

Delia and Philomena are also suggesting that Angela and Malachy’s relationship is irresponsibly oversexed, producing children they cannot afford to raise. As contraception was illegal at the time, and the Catholic church frowns on non-procreative sex, Angela cannot help getting pregnant. Her sisters seem to ignore this fact, as they ignore that Malachy is not Protestant but Catholic. By exaggerating the frequency of Angela's pregnancies, they make it seem as though their sister’s poverty and Malachy Sr.’s Northern Irish heritage make her irresponsible and unfit to continue having children.

The idiom “did his bit” here refers to Malachy Sr. having fought in the Irish War of Independence. Phrases like “did his bit” and “did me bit” as they appear here rely on a shared understanding that a man’s “bit” refers to his personal contributions to the end of English rule in Ireland. The idiomatic language here establishes a sense of commonality between Malachy Sr. and the unknown soldier he's commiserating with. By saying they “did their bit,” each confirms that they participated in the war against the English without having to go into further detail.

However, it seems that “doing one’s bit” is not sufficient to provide a livelihood after the war. The unnamed veteran that Malachy Sr. is speaking to describes his pay from the IRA office as “a pension that wouldn’t feed a canary.” By suggesting that their veteran's pensions are so low they couldn’t sustain even a tiny bird, McCourt illustrates how unfairly men like Malachy Sr. felt they were treated after the war ended. This exaggerated statement also shows the casual bitterness the other veteran feels, as he’s lost an eye only to be met with this “reward.” Malachy Sr. feels the sting of unfairness even more intensely after this exchange, however, as without proof of his having fought, he is unable to collect any pension at all.

McCourt uses situational irony to show the dark reality behind Peter’s uncontested title of "champion" pint drinker. Although Frank admires Mikey's father, he’s too young to understand at this point in the memoir that Peter’s “victories” in the pub come at the expense of his family’s welfare. The pints he is drinking are not free, so being known as a “champion pint drinker” really means that he is wasting his very limited money on alcohol. Instead of making life better for his family, Peter’s “success” ironically deepens their poverty. The hyperbole in “they could chop off his fingers and he’d carry on regardless” also exaggerates Peter’s commitment to drinking. He’s able to keep drinking almost endlessly because he makes himself vomit up what he’s already consumed. Even if his fingers—which he uses to make himself vomit so he can drink more—were removed, Frankie thinks he’d still keep on behaving in the same way. Even though his family have nothing, Peter is willing to waste their money twice—first on drinking the pints, and then on vomiting them up so he can drink more.

McCourt uses further situational irony as he describes the effect of Peter’s drinking on Mikey’s mother, Nora. Nora frequently seeks refuge in the “lunatic asylum,” which for most people would be considered a punishment or a last resort. However, because things are so bad at home with “her five children and the champion of all pint drinkers,” instead of trying to avoid being brought in, Nora must be “dragged out” of the asylum to return to her responsibilities. Even the indignity and confinement of an early 20th century mental institution, it would seem, is preferable to her hardscrabble life at home in the Lanes.

By exaggeratedly describing mornings with his dad as a time when “the whole world [is] asleep,” the author shows the reader the intimacy and warmth Frank feels when he and Malachy Sr. are alone together. When everyone else in the world is asleep, this time feels special and private, and Frank has his father’s full attention. This quiet, isolated world with a kind, intelligent parent taking care of him contrasts with the chaos that often comes later in the day. During these mornings, Frank doesn’t have to fear his father drinking all of their money away or doing embarrassing things in public.

The pathos of this moment evokes sympathy in the reader for both Malachy Sr. and young Frank. Frank’s loyal affection for his father is touching. These tender moments keep Frank's love for his dad alive. They're the small gestures that keep Frank from fully resenting his father, allowing the reader—alongside Frank—to glimpse the person Malachy Sr. might be if circumstances were different. Frank clings to moments like these, even though he and the reader both know by this point that Malachy Sr.’s next drunken episode is inevitably approaching.

Despite knowing nothing about him, Frank is horrified at the thought of giving his confession to this priest. The image of a “seashell” conjures the idea of an ear that can pick up and amplify even the faintest sounds. In Frank’s alarmed imagination, his scheme to confess to the elderly priest has failed, as this new one will be alert to every word Frank utters. It’s as though Frank’s most private and embarrassing thoughts about masturbation, wet dreams, and his mother and Laman Griffin having "the excitement" will now echo and reverberate, amplified by this hyper-sensitive ear.

The hyperbolic description of the priest’s ear as “big” and seashell-like comes from Frank’s discomfort. The priest’s ears aren’t actually an abnormal size. However, Frank’s exaggerated focus on the ear’s size suggests that Frank suddenly feels very exposed. The comforting anonymity he felt with the old priest’s limited hearing has been suddenly wrenched away, and he will have to actually confess to and atone for his “sins.”