092005

Dandelion Wine

I just recently finished reading Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. Even though the summer is over now, I’m convinced that it’s a perfect summer book.

It’s not really a novel. It’s more of a collection of short stories knitted to gether with a common theme, common characters, and a common setting: that of a small midwestern town. I love the way Bradbury writes, and the way he uses words to describe the world. It’s as if he has supernatural insight into the world as seen through the eyes of children, complete with wonders, fears, and expectations. Two of the primary characters are kids, experiencing the summer that exists in youth, who kind of remind me of how summer was when I was a kid.

I remember my friends and I would run through the woods, build tree houses, and sneak into places that children were never meant to go. I remember magic: the pulse of God was in everything from the trees to the automobiles. The world was new, and every new day brought something unexpected, whether I found I could make a base hit, or I discovered that Newton’s laws of motion really were true. Every piece of fool’s gold was real gold, and a demon was hidden behind every shadow.

Something about the way Bradbury writes children helps him write old people just as well. There’s something about the two ends of life that gives them a similar perspective. Maybe it’s because while children are exploring this world, old people are on the verge of exploring the next.

Even though my favorite Bradbury stories: The Martian Chronicles, and Fahrenheit 451 don’t have kids as main characters, the guy’s knack for big-eyed description has been unmatched by any other author I have ever read. And for some reason the New York Public Library categorizes Dandelion Wine as Science Fiction, which beats me. There’s no space men, no starships. Just folks in the summer. If anything, I’d classify it as borderline fantasy, since there’s a part where someone mentions magic. However, I’d argue that the way Bradbury writes, everything is magic.