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Ray Bradbury
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Dandelion Wine
Although it's only July 4th at the time of this writing, I can't help but
think of the
Doors'
refrain, "Summer's almost gone." Maybe it's because I just finished rererereading
Ray Bradbury's poignant and wise Dandelion Wine, a book that was a
summertime rite of my adolescence. It had been at least ten years since I
last read it, so it's hard for me to pinpoint why I find it so touchingly
appropriate now. Is it because I have grown into the ideas of mortality framed
by the narrative, or did those seeds so long ago sown burst into bloom at
memory's touch? It is nostalgic without being maudlin, instructive without
being pedantic. More...
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Henry Miller
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Opus Pistorum
This is the book Miller wrote for an LA purveyor of smut in 1941 for a dollar
per page. Originally, only five copies were made, handbound, and sold to
top Hollywood producers. The epilogue, an affadvit sworn out by the book's
sponsor, Martin Luboviski, in Paris in 1983 on the occasion of its first
regular edition is an interesting footnote to Miller's literary career. The
book itself is a paean to John Thursday, Miller's most notable protagonist
and no doubt the guiding influence of much of his life and work. Predating
Lolita by 14 years, the first few pages of Opus
Pistorum (pidgin Latin for Miller's Work), while addressing similar
May-September relations, makes Nabokov's masterpiece seem puritanical
by comparison. There's no real story here, but each page thereafter is equally
astounding, outrageous, and hilarious. I open it at random any time I'm looking
for a laugh and/or cheap frisson. Recently reprinted as Under the Roofs
of Paris, the card catalog description of this book is a hoot and,
oddly, not too far from the truth. A must for Miller fans and for those seeking
sexy textual thrills.
Warning: contains language and adult situations
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