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Designers like the Jon Jerde are masterful in getting conservative real estate developers to buy into wildly unimaginable design and then execute them to perfection. I always wonder how the Jerde Partnership would redesign the Amazon.coms of the electronic world to make the online world a better place.
I highly recommend this book as a great conversation piece, a behind the scene view of the process of selling large ideas, and a stunning display of architectural design that has been copied over and over but never duplicated.
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I feel like I know Walt a lot better after having this book. From the early days of animation to the creation of Disneyland and Walt Disney World... friends, co-workers, and family members describe this complicated man from every possible perspective.
Walt was not a saint or an angel. Nor was he the devil that some recent biographers have tried to make him out to be. He was a human being... a complicated human being. He was a visionary, at least 50 years ahead of his time. Mostly, he was a miraculous, paternal figure in the lives of everyone close to him and a magical, whimsical personality to almost everyone else in the world. They called him Uncle Walt for a reason.
This incredible collection of photos and stories will be treasured by those who love Walt and should be enjoyed even by those with an occasional curiosity in the man who created an empire based on a mouse.
Take your time. You'll want to enjoy this book forever.
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Bradbury excels at mood, and is consistently able to create one that mixes wistful reflection and nostalgia with tremulous unease; his American small towns and cities are a combination of Norman Rockwell and Edward Hopper, homey comfort and individual isolation defining the landscape hand in hand. More than any other American writer, Bradbury is capable of allowing us to see again through the eyes of our childhood memories, rather than merely providing us with a child's point of view. Bradbury's writing here is often charming and evocative, and readers will want to embrace this book. But it's also very likely that most will wish the stories were more complex and considerably less obvious.
The best pieces are those that offer elements of genuine originality, such as the magic colored glass and odd internal organs the inquisitive, determined boy discovers in 'The Man Upstairs,' or sustained plot intricacy, such as Bradbury's unique approach to the premise of faked celebrity death in 'The Wonderful Death of Dudley Stone.' The tabula rasa affect the distressing contents of 'The Jar' has on the townspeople adds a bright angle to the book.
Unfortunately, Bradbury ruins more than a handful of tales by losing control of his keen aesthetic judgement at the last moment, or by hammering home an obvious point the reader has seen coming pages earlier. Beautifully conceived stories like 'Skeleton,' 'The Scythe,' 'The Crowd,' and 'The Small Assassin' simply go too far into crudity, exaggerated climax, or a seeming inability to bring the narrative to a rightfully imaginative outcome which comfortably follows his original idea. Other stories, already slight, end too ambiguously for the reader to determine the possible range of events that might have occurred. Some, like 'The Wind' have titles that tell the whole story: a man is haunted by the wind. Characterization is thin throughout; none of the stories are truly dramatic; interesting premises fall flat.
But Bradbury excels at psychological insight, such as his interesting look at hypochondria in 'Skeleton' and postpartum depression in 'The Small Assassin.' His ability to recreate the mood most of us associate with pre-1960s America and simpler days is evident throughout and much of the book's attraction.
October Country is an immature work, each story a simple elaboration of a simple idea, though a seed of brighter Bradbury works to follow. The author's 1996 introduction is wonderfully fun and informative, and artist Joseph Mugnaini's illustrations match the overall tenor of the book perfectly.
Older readers looking for more involving entertainment of a similar nature should consider collections by Algernon Blackwood or Arthur Machen.
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It is interesting to read Bradbury's book hand-in-hand with Stephen King's "On Writing." Both books appeal to the intuitive writer as contrasted with the methodical writer, both author's love their craft and their audience, and both books are refreshingly honest. However, as King is a garrulous, yet beloved Dutch uncle, Bradbury is the writer's Delphic oracle.
If the writer-[beginner] is not inspired to write after reading this short, but valuable book, maybe he had best seek another line of work.
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i love ray bradbury he is an awesome storyteller...great author great stories if you haven't read it your missing out
I think the magazine covers, reproduced with the stories, should have been full page and in color. I also think the reproductions of the old letters was of a pretty poor quality. On the other hand, it was really good to see the covers of each magazine in which the story originally appeared, and I loved the inclusion of the letters at the end.
My other disappointment was that I apparently did not read the fine print that would have informed me that my copy, ordered through Amazon.com, would NOT be numbered or autographed by either Bradbury or Cline -- contrary to Gauntlet Press's information. I have purchased through Amazon.com for years with GREAT satisfaction, but feel this caveat should have been much more prominent.
There should have been a price for the numbered, autographed editions, and a lower price for the one that is, essentially, a general-run book.
But, while I feel [the price] is too much for a book that is NOT a signed, numbered limited edition book, I am glad I have the book.
Bradbury's writing is awesome and this re-issue should have been out a long time ago.
This is a magnificent book. I highly recommend it to anyone who loves stories and life.
When I began reading "I Sing the Body Electric" I was a little worried that it wasn't up to the par of his other short story collections. Bradbury sometimes writes in broad strokes that result in unfulfilling caricature. I felt this was true of the first couple stories. But after that, the book really took off, and I felt he was firing on all cylinders again and again. "Yes, We'll Gather at the River" has to be one of my favorite Bradbury stories. "Night Call, Collect," the title story, "Any Friend of Nicholas Nickleby's Is a Friend of Mine," and "The Man in the Rorschach Shirt" are other high points in the collection. He also takes some stylistic excursions in this book. "Heavy-Set" is an excellent prose portrait, but is not really like anything else he's written. There is also a poem included as the last entry in the book. If you've never read anything by Ray Bradbury, I highly recommend you pick up one of his many fine books. "I Sing the Body Electric" is right up with the best of them.
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I am grateful to Stephen King for having brought this novel to notice in his horror fiction chronicle-critique 'Danse Macabre' (which I will recommend to anybody who is even remotely interested in horror/fantasy media).
The main protagonists of this supernatural adventure are the sunny Will Halloway and his companion and counterpart, the wild Jim Nightshade. The plot centers on how their lives are turned upside-down with the arrival of that very unusual sideshow carnival, Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show (God, this has such a Heavy Metal feel to it).
If it were to be judged by its start-up this would undoubtedly be one of the best books ever. Bradbury in his element comes up with the literary equivalent of a Rick Wakeman solo. The words fly fast and furious, magically arranging themselves into such dizzyingly ornate and mellifluous phrases, sentences, paragraphs that almost threaten to drown the reader in their exuberance and beauty. This major portion of this book contains some of Bradbury's finest literary moments and as anyone who has read his work will till you, that is an achievement of no mean order. Characters like the Dust Witch and Mr. Dark aka The Illustrated Man are described in such vivid and astonishing detail as to strongly etch themselves onto readers' minds. You do not merely read, you see, hear, smell, taste, feel whatever the pen of Bradbury commands you to. This book bristles with parts that I will be happily re-reading for many months on.
Wherein lies the catch? The plot after one of the best build-ups ever constructed grows somewhat loose with several potentially interesting supporting characters (Mr. Electrico, the Dwarf) given marginal footage. Although lavish description is used to paint what Stephen King describes as the 'Apollonian-Dionysian' divide between Will and Jim, once the action heats up, this is pretty much left by the wayside, the boys rendered almost interchangeable in their personalities. The story, after a point moves IMO almost into the realms of the straight-ahead thriller format, although Bradbury's writing alleviates a lot of the conventionality and it is perhaps only the cynical bastard in me that finds it difficult to swallow the 'Love Conquers All' driven denouement.