Go | New | Find | Notify | Tools | Reply |
I've lost and found the name of this story a number of times, you'd think I'd remember by now. The story is about an uncle or grandfather that comes to visit his nephew/grandson. The n/g is living with another man and the u/g inquires about the living situation. The n/g ask if the g/u ever had a close boy friend. The u/g reminisces about a summer he spent playing with a gypsy(?)boy who was in the area for the summer. A sweet story of acceptence. | |||
|
It's one of Ray's Irish stories. Someone will come up with the title... | ||||
|
Braling II: I say...Not a Bradbury story. | ||||
|
Sounds like "The Better Part of Wisdom". It's a grandfather, not an uncle. You can find it in the books Long After Midnight and The Stories of Ray Bradbury. - Phil Deputy Moderator | Visit my Bradbury website: www.bradburymedia.co.uk | Listen to my Bradbury 100 podcast: https://tinyurl.com/bradbury100pod | ||||
|
Phil, I think that's the one. Isn't the grandfather Irish? By the way, did my email reach you? | ||||
|
I don't know if any of the characters in this story is Irish, but it takes place in Ireland. As for the nature of the conversation/unspoken revelation: think "Sheridan" and his friend "Tarquin" in "Keeping Up Appearances." | ||||
|
Hyacinth: "If my Sheridan were here he'd be appalled!" or: Hyacinth: [to Richard, after she picks up the phone] "It's Sheridan!" Richard Bucket: "How much does he want?" Hyacinth: "Oh, stop it, Richard! I'm sure he's just calling to say hello to his mommy." [on the phone, to Sheridan] Hyacinth: "Now, what is it dear?" [stops and blinks] Hyacinth: "You want £90?" "Live Forever!" | ||||
|
Not familiar on this one. Makes me wonder if Ray has some unpublished stories of other than Mexican, Irish, and African Americans? Maybe that's a question to ask him. Perhaps there is a few unpublished French stories hidden somewheres, or...? | ||||
|
Fiorello Bodoni (The Rocket), does that constitute one of RB's Italian stories? "At last they hung like drunken moths in their cocoon hammocks. "Good," whispered Bodoni, alone. (I always read this final story aloud to my students when concluding I.M. unit. A real heart-warming tale, with many lines of family banter that read poetic. One of my favorites of favorites!) | ||||
|
Powered by Social Strata |
Please Wait. Your request is being processed... |