Given the timing and subject matter of Bill Watkins' "A Celtic Childhood," comparisons to Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes" and "'Tis" are inevitable.While the similarities are evident, Watkins' and McCourt's styles are far from identical.
While McCourt's stories are humorous, they focus on the hardships of growing up poor in Ireland, seemingly from the point of view of an adult looking back on the past. Watkins, on the other hand, tells humorous stories that mention the hardships of his youth matter-of-factly, and is able to take on the point of view of the child describing the present.
Watkins' vivid imagination and gift for language are quite apparent in this memoir. The fantasies he created for himself as a child (and often acted out) are wonderful, whether he be Biggles the World War I aviator or the leader of a pack of American gangsters.
What stands out for me in this book is the relationship Watkins, as an only child, had with his parents (and other adult relatives). His mother is a woman of great creativity and salty language, while his father is a bit of a tosspot and ne'er-do-well who loves his son and imparts great knowledge of things scientific, philospohical and historical.
Watkins has the eye of the keen observer, always alert, missing nothing, and the ability to describe what he has observed with very creative uses of language.
I recommend this book strongly to fans of humor, memoir, and all things Irish. Watkins reportedly plans a trilogy, of which this is the first volume. (The second will allegedly be called "Scotland is Not for the Squeamish.") I can't wait to read it!