"To compensate a little for the treachery and weakness of my memory, so extreme that it has happened to me more than once to pick up again, as recent and unknown to me, books which I had read carefully a few years before . . . I have adopted the habit for some time now of adding at the end of each book . . . the time I finished reading it and the judgment I have derived of it as a whole, so that this may represent to me at least the sense and general idea I had conceived of the author in reading it." (Montaigne, Book II, Essay 10 (publ. 1580))

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Dandelion Wine (Ray Bradbury, 1957)

(239 pp)

Didn't know Bradbury wrote this kind of thing; suggested by (borrowed from) Paul Jr; another book that I wouldn't necessarily seek out, but much enjoyed.

Bradbury is building stories out of his Ohio childhood.

A reason for the recommendation - and it turns out to be correct - is that Bradbury had an ear for a life very much like mine as I grew up in the 50s and 60s.  There are some differences - he's a decade or two earlier, and lives in the town proper - but there were many-many times while reading that I would have a memory, typically quite pleasant, of something long-forgotten.

As usual - I liked some stories more than others - that's not a problem.  A little dramatic with the "ravine" angle.  Perhaps a little overly hero-worship-ish with the grandparents - but that's kind of how we felt, too. Ideas about getting older; about kids getting wiser (and perhaps correspondingly sadder).

Kids sitting around listening to the grown-ups converse in the evenings - Bradbury describes it as the "soundtrack" of childhood in those days - I thought that was very observant.  (And find myself using the phrase.)

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