...by Ray Bradbury.
It is about two boys, named Jim Nightshade and William Halloway, who have a harrowing experience with a nightmarish carnival that comes to their Midwestern town one October. The mysterious and sinister carnival is presided over by Mr. Dark, a man who bears a tattoo for every person who, enticed by the offer of living out one's secret fantasies, has become part of the show — many unwillingly. Countering Mr. Dark's malevolent presence is Will's father, who finds his own life force tempered by middle-age melancholy.
(I have read several places that this novel is considered a "companion" piece to Dandelion Wine, a great favorite of mine, and something I had never heard before. I have missed this one far too long, I think!)
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I have never read any of Ray Bradbury's writings, so I am not sure if this book is his usual style. I don't know that I could take much more. I liked the story, though the ending seemed to lose its luster, it was disappointing. His writing was overwhelming and all over the place without actually getting anywhere. But in between the fluff, the story itself was cute. I am glad that I read this book, and was forced to read it for the book club. I don't know that I would have finished it otherwise. I realize this has been a seemingly negative review, but I am mixed. I liked it and I didn't at the same time. Strange I know, but so was the book.
I'm still working on this -- this week has become very busy, so I probably won't finish it until the end of the month, but I'm enjoying it so far. Jen -- Bradbury's not for everyone. He can be very rambling like you say, and the other book of his that I remember clearly (Dandelion Wine) is much less about plot than it is about impressions and images and character shaping -- a series of short vignettes that work you up to a frothy glee over the wonders and mysteries of childhood summers, but don't really have much of a storyline. Again, that's sort of like my beloved Alice books (all character and scene painting and little plot), so I think that's why it doesn't bother me like it would a lot of people.
Also, I was curious to read this one because in grade school they would always make us watch the movie version for Halloween. It scared me witless every time, and circuses and carnivals give me the willies to this day. I guess the teachers figured that since it was Ray Bradbury it must be a "literate" thriller and therefore good for the kiddies. Literate or no, it felt like horror to me!
Anyway, this isn't my final posting. I just wanted to say that I hadn't fallen out of the game. I'll finish this one for sure because it's just my cup of tea.
I enjoyed the book it had great imagery. I loved the story (minus the ending as I said before). I have never thought of carnivals as creepy, but now, they will never be the same for me. I love that when a book can turn a part of your world upside down and make you see things from a different perspective. I was just overwhelmed with his writing and the thick monologue from the dad. But I am glad that I read the book.
Reading Bradbury is like working your way through an immense and rich piece of chocolate cake. It's always a bit much if you don't like chocolate. (But that's a bad analogy, because who doesn't like chocolate?) I'd agree with Marie--he's very much about creating environment rather than plot. Really, this book has more definite action in it than plenty of his other stuff. But not all of his stuff is this rich in imagery, either.
There was one part where the imagery completely threw me--when Will was attacking the witch's balloon--I really must've blinked, because I had no IDEA where the action was taking place. Where we inside the abandoned house? On the front lawn? The roof? Huh? But in the end, I didn't care.
Oh--and there's another thing--the ending. This was something I loved. This was something that ultimately worked for me. (For me, this book was more about Charles Halloway than anybody, and seeing him come to terms with who he was was so great! Stories about innocence lost and coming of age are always great, but more rare and wonderful to me is the story about the jaded and wise finding peace. And repairing his relationship with his son, too--that was very fulfilling to me.) So please, say more about the ending and how it struck you sour. I want to know what you saw.
I have also never seen the movie. It's on reserve at the library as I type, waiting for me to come get it.
Okay--the monologue from the father was a bit...tedious and pointless. A lot of hot air. I agree.
Uh, yeah. I actually thought the part about men being awake at three in the morning was very ironic, VERY, since it's always me up with the kid in the middle of the night, and it's ME who can't go back to sleep at 3am. Yes, yes, that was very annoying. But what can you do? At least he didn't try to *write* a woman. And I guess idolizing a character's wife/mother is sweet on some level.
As for the ending being embarrassing...like, schmultzy? Like when someone tries to make a movie about a religious experience (God's Army, anyone?) and it starts to make you squirm, like that?
I think I might get where you're coming from--maybe--but I may be too much of a geek myself to see it straight (though technically, I'm really a dork, not a geek).
I finished this a week or so ago and posted a looong comment that I then accidentally erased. So this will be the much shorter rehash version -- lucky you!
I was surprised that the book spooked me so much. I found the movie very frightening in 4th grade, but I'd assumed it would be laughable fare at my age. But that's precisely why it was still scary -- when I was a kid, it was scary because of the freaks and spiders and Mr. Dark with his bone-crushing hands. Now that I"m a wise old spinster, it's scary because of the temptations, particularly those offered to those growing old, feeling their mortality. It was frightening to realize that I couldn't confidently say that I would resist an innocent ride on a magical carousel if it meant I could go back to age 23 and do things better. What if they told me that it was against nature, against God's will, and not give me happiness? I hope I'd say no, and face the wrinkles and regrets with courage. At my present age I'm sure I would resist. But as a 50-year-old spinster? As a Miss Foley? I'm not so sure. It's even spookier to consider in this age of plastic surgery, botox, and face TRANSPLANTS for crying out loud. Those are real. Is the cost the same? Maybe not a lost soul, but losing out on growing wise and on confronting yourself and your past and your weakness? Is refusing to accept your mortality essentially pushing God away? ("Everyone wants to see Jesus but no one wants to die"?) Could that ultimately be what it means to lose your soul?
I'm not saying a Botox treatment steals your soul, but these were the tracks my mind ran on as I read.
The movie was less scary than I'd remembered it -- less scary than the book for sure. It was interesting that even though Bradbury did the screenplay, he switched around the fates of many of the characters, seemingly without reason. And I was glad that the goofy laughfest at the end was abbreviated. You can of course make a case that much of the evil in the world is made possible and amplified by fear and gloom in ourselves. But it's a lie to suggest that all evil collapses if you put on a happy face. Besides being dorky, those three laughing scenes (in the library, the shooting of the Dust Witch, and the final triumph) didn't ring true to me thematically.
And Jen -- by the time I got to the end, I was as sick of Bradbury's style as you were. That sort of writing is great for pondering the deep, sleepy secrets of summer, but when it comes to action scenes, it's time to cut away the clutter. It made the exciting bits not so much suspenseful as slo-mo. Bradbury needs to know when to STOP.
Anyway, I'm glad I read this. It was the perfect autumn book and it gave me a lot to think about as I stare in the mirror at my rapidly multiplying colony of gray hairs...
After reading Marie's blog, the book scared the jeepers out of me. Would I tempt fate and take a ride rolling back time on the carousel? Hmmm . . . . approaching 30 and spinster hood, I would most like choose . . . . lets leave that answer unanswered. I am not afraid of death, I am not afraid of wrinkles, but I am afraid of dying and never having reached the potential that I am sure I am capable of. Turning back time could be a great solve all, but messing with fate would cause the butterfly effect, and I don't want that kind of catastrophe on my head. I guess I will succumb to Mr. Halloway's fate and accept the gray hairs, wrinkles, and choices left unmade.
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