And from now on,
that will be your job.
America,
wonderful land of the Arapaho,
Cheyenne, Chippewa,
Sioux, Apache, Iroquois.
Poetry, boys.
And the chiefs! Listen.
Kicking Bear,
Rain-in-the-Face,
Sitting Bull,
Crazy Horse,
and the man himself,
the genius Geronimo.
Stock your minds, boys,
and you can move through the world...
resplendent.
Clarke, define “resplendent.”
– I think it’s shining, sir.
– Pithy but adequate.
McCourt, give us a sentence
with “pithy.”
Clarke is pithy
but adequate, sir.
Adroit, McCourt.
You have a mind for the priesthood,
my boy, or politics.
Tell you mother
to come and see me.
Hoppy O’Halloran told Mam...
to take me
to the Christian Brothers--
to say he sent me,
and I was a bright boy...
and ought to be going
to secondary school...
and maybe
to university even.
I wish he’d mind
his own business.
I want to quit school forever and get
a job with wages every Friday night...
and go to the pictures
every Saturday like everybody else.
I’ve come to see
Brother Murray.
I don’t know why we bothered.
They took one look at us...
– What do you want?
– This is my son Frank.
and said no.
Francis, will you
listen to me?
Are you listening?
I am.
You’re never to let anybody slam
the door in your face again.
Do you hear me?
I do.
Impurity.
I say again, impurity.
Impurity
is so grave a sin...
the Virgin Mary turns
her face away and weeps.
She weeps when
she looks down...
that long, dreary vista
of time...
and beholds in horror
the spectacle of Limerick boys...
defiling themselves,
polluting themselves,
soiling their young bodies
which are the temple of the Holy Ghost.
Interfering with themselves.
We pray to the Virgin Mary
to say we’re sorry...
because we can’t stop
interfering with ourselves.
– The dong!
– The dong!
– The prick!
– The prick!
– The dick!
– The dick!
– The langer!
– The langer!
– The excitement!
– The excitement!
– The excitement?
– Yeah, the excitement.
Yeah, I heard of that.
Paddy Clohessy found
a priest to confess our hideous sins to.
He’s 90 years old
and deaf as a turnip.
Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.
It’s been ages since me last confession.
I’ve been masturbating.
Except one day,
he died and didn’t tell us.
Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.
It’s been a fort--
It’s been a fortnight
since my last confession.
And what have you done
since then, my child?
I, uh, I hit my brother.
I lied to my mother.
Yes, my child.
And what else?
Uh, I did dirty things,
Father.
Ah, my child, was that with yourself
or with another?
Or with some class
of beast?
Beast?
I never heard of a sin
like that, Father.
This priest
must be from the country.
He’s opening up
new worlds for me.
I’ll just take him up
his last mug of tea.
It’s a disgrace...
that boys like McCourt...
and Clarke and Kennedy...
have to hew wood
and draw water...
in this so-called free
and independent Ireland...
that keeps a class system
foisted on us by the English.
Well, it disgusts me.
We throw our talented children
onto the dung heap.
If this is the end
of school for you,
you must get out of this country,
boys, and go to America.
McCourt, do you hear me?
I do, sir.
Laman Griffin
was drunk every night.
Worst still was Fridays when we had
to watch him eat his fish and chips.
Woman, boil some water
for tea.
We’ve no coal
or turf.
You useless
great lump,
living free under me roof
with you snotty-nosed pack of brats.
You.
Go to the shop for a few sods
and some kindling.
Come on. Or are you as useless
as your mother?
Did you empty
the chamber pot today?
Shite.
I left it on the stairs.
You stand there with your thick gob
and tell me you didn’t do it?
I’m sorry. I forgot.
I’ll do it now.
– He couldn’t do it.
– Shut up, woman.
It was his last day at school,
and he had to go to the doctor.
I said, shut up, woman!
You can’t tell us to shut up.
You’re not our father!
If I have to get