Ray Bradbury

In my youth as I devoured science fiction my tastes ran to what in those days was called “hard” science fiction, written by people with engineering backgrounds, or if not certainly who should have…

But one author I found as I explored the range of the genre who didn’t convey that particular and frankly limiting sensibility was Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury was the first author I encountered who might be termed “writerly.” His love of language and use of it immediately caught me and my imagination…

As a child of a father who kicked around the country following an insatiable itch in his wounded soul, and therefore never attending school anywhere two years running, my education shaky as it was, came mostly through reading; and my love of books and gratitude for the printed word was such that I was especially taken with his dystopian reflection Fahrenheit 451.

It seeped into my dreams.

And I’ve never forgotten the collection Martian Chronicles, as much for how it was written as for its haunting subject matter. There is no doubt that man could write. And I began to savor the writing of what I would read nearly as much as the story. Actually he was probably the reason my taste for science fiction would eventually run its course. Too much bad writing. At least in those days…

As I think of the recent studies suggesting how closely connected we actually are in that six degrees of separation sense, I was especially taken with learning his first real success happened out of an encounter with Christopher Isherwood (about whom I’ve written in the past) who brought the Chronicles to the attention of a “serious” reviewer. This helped him become one of the few science fiction authors of his day to break out of the ghetto and find a readership in the larger community. Something he richly deserved…

Today, author, teacher (and I’m happy to report, Unitarian Universalist) Ray Bradbury is 88.

Happy Birthday, Ray!