18 April 2010, 06:43 PM
Andy VodaIn all sorts of ways...
I was just driving down the highway today thinking how much I feel am living in a Ray Bradbury novel. And that sort of thought is not an infrequent occurance!I am now 56 years old, and I have to thank Ray Bradbury for helping me survive as a teenager in the 60's. I read everything he wrote at that time, and I did it multiple times. I breathed in his words. I survived my sophmore year in high school by making a film of "The Fruit at the Bottom of the Bowl" (super 8 film with reel to reel sound synced by placing one's thumb occasionally on the reel) instead of having to write some musty old term paper like more "normal" students.
Through the years particularly in these Kindle-darkened days, I've often wondered what book I would go to the woods with to memorize. (In this I apologize to Ray, as it would have to be Mark Helprin's "Winters Tale" but just the same, I feel its Bradbury influences is almost palpable).
I won't say a day goes by when I don't think of a Bradbury story, but given the fact that I haven't read much more than his early work from the 50's and 60's, and hardly since the 60's and 70's, his work is the only writing that still will just suddenly, out of nowhere, comes into my mind. It is as if it has attached itself to my unconscious, not in any brainwashing sort of way, but rather because its fantasy is both so real and personal while being so universal at the same time. And moreso, so much of it has felt to come true. For instance, I can't say how many times I've been walking out on the street at night by myself, looking into TV lit windows feeling I'm "The Pedestrian".
In other words, if I didn't have Bradbury to read in my most formative and vulnerable years, I think I'd feel very much more alone as an adult. I remember once reading a quote of his, speaking of his determination not to go mad (or was it insane? I forget). Whichever, I have to thank Bradbury himself in alot of ways of keeping my own madnesses in check.
So thank you Ray Bradbury. And if you ever want to see my film of The Fruit at the Bottom of the Bowl... you're probably out of luck as that acetate recording tape by now must be crackling to bits.
)
