RIP Ray Bradbury.
I’ve only read three of your
books - Something Wicked This Way Comes,
Fahrenheit 451 and The
Illustrated Man. I’ve watched the movie
versions, too, and if anyone ever needs convincing that the original written
version of a story is always better than the adapted movie all he needs to do
is compare the versions of these three works. Don’t get me wrong. The films
were all good, enjoyable and captivating but they didn’t touch me as much as
reading your words did. (Although, I have to say that the 1969 film of The
Illustrated Man - I believe there’s a
version coming out in 2013 - starring Rod Steiger, did creep me out. In a good
way.)
I came to your work at around 11
or 12. It was around this time that I’d really started getting into books. I’d
just entered secondary school and my sister was (still is) an avid reader and
had introduced me to Antoine de Saint Exupery’s The Little Prince. From there, my love of books took off. I recall
seeing a copy of Fahrenheit 451 and
The Illustrated Man on my
father’s bookshelves. I didn’t read them until later in life, in college as
part of an American Studies course, my brother telling me at the time that they
might be too frightening. So, at school, as my friends read books that weren’t
yet then but would be today called YA about teenage boys growing into
professional soccer players or novels set in World War II, I came across Something
Wicked This Way Comes.
I hadn’t purposely searched for
one of your books out but when I pulled it off the shelf at my school library -
we had a library period once a week or so and each student had to choose a
book, with teacher approval, and read it by the next library period - I was
very excited. We never had to write a book report on what we were reading. It
was just so we could read and, for that, I am grateful. I recall my teacher
telling me how great a writer you are and how I’d like this particular book,
about how I’d enjoy the action and suspense as much as the fantasy. She never
mentioned anything about how scary - at least for a twelve year old - it might
be. If she had, perhaps the impact of the story might have somehow been
compromised.
I write now. Well, I’ve been
writing since I was a kid but now I’m a published author. I guess it was inevitable that I’d
write because I’m the son of a writer and former English teacher, the brother
to a journalist and the brother to an English Lit major. As a writer,
naturally, I like - no love - books. I credit that to my sister, my secondary
school English teachers and you.
Something Wicked This Way
Comes found me at the perfect time. My mind
was open and my heart passionate for discovery and entertainment. With names
like Dark and Nightshade - names that some writing teachers would say are too
‘nail on the head’ - the book presents the perfect balance of good versus evil,
temptation, the darkness within each of us and the desire to do good that
resides beside it. To be honest, I haven’t thought of Something
Wicked This Way Comes in a long time. Now
that I am, sadly because of your passing, I am smiling because I am remembering
how much I enjoyed and was impressed by it and how much, because of it, I love
books and how that, in turn, has helped me define and understand myself.
As I recall all of this, warmly
the way one does about the past, I’ve decided that I need to pick up a copy and
reread it. And, share it.
Thank you, Mr. Bradbury. You’ve
touched many minds and hearts, mine among them. I wouldn’t be the reader and
writer today without you.
Rest In Peace. Oh, and if you come
across Mr. Dark on your way to literary heaven, tell him I say “hello.”
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