5/26/2023 0 Comments Dandelion ray bradburyWhere is there room for grass anywhere in Tokyo, how in hell could they grow dandelions to make wine?īut every Christmas for 20 years, 40 Japanese students airmail me essays, poems, and novel fragments about Dandelion Wine as a special gift to end the year. Since then, I’ve been astounded to receive letters from Sweden, where summer lasts perhaps three or four days, or Kenya, where summer lasts forever. My life in Ireland, written as poems and plays, finally became a novel about John Huston and Moby Dick.ĭandelion Wine then was a series of word associations about my hometown, remembering how it was to run in a new pair of tennis shoes or to perch on the family porch on those wonderful summer nights when we filled the sky with rockets and fire balloons. The Martian Chronicles, for example, born in 1944 as a collection of stories, along the way civilized an entire planet. My stories, essays, and poems suddenly grow full and tall. Little did I know, as the old saying goes, that when publishing my “Dandelion Wine” story in gourmet in 1953 I was starting a novel.
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