I believe one thing holds it all together. Everything I’ve ever done was done with excitement, because I wanted to do it, because I loved doing it. The greatest man in the world for me, one day, was Lon Chaney, was Orson Welles in ‘Citizen Kane’, was Laurence Olivier in ‘Richard III’. The men change, but one thing remains always the same: the fever, the ardor, the delight.
This is probably the one thing that I envy the most about Bradbury: his talent to express his enthusiasm with words, his unapologetic pride in being a dreamer, his faith that we can learn from the past and that we can use literature and poetry not as a means to escape from reality, but as a tool to make our dreams come true.
My rating for this collection of autobiographical essays that cover decades of lectures and interviews and book launchings has more to do with my fanboy credentials than with any perceived value to students of creative writing, but I am myself feeling unapologetic about singing Bradbury’s praise.
About the time I finished highschool, forced to confront the fact that I had no idea what I want to do with my life, I toyed with the idea of becoming a writer. I was a voracious consumer of books and cinema, absorbing all these fictional worlds, and thought that if they can do it, maybe so could I.
One of the very first essays in this Bradbury collection explains why my plans never got off the ground: Bradbury can later talk at length about his enchanted childhood memories or about his own passion for reading and watching movies or about ways to lure and capture the elusive muse of artistic inspiration, but the true secret of his success is discipline and hard work.
For more than fifty years, he got up every morning and wrote one thousand or two thousand words. Later in the day, he came back and rewrote everything several times, until he was satisfied with the phrasing and the structure. He did this all on his own, year after year, with little commercial or publishing success. But it was the thing that he loved most in the world, and he kept at it until he became better, until the distance between an idea and its expression on paper was erased. For all his long career, Bradbury ignored both critics and praise, struggling to remain true to his inner vision, to his balancing act between childhood innocence and bleak visions of the future, to his faith that we as humans are not victims of predestination but we have the power to shape our own destinies.
“I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.”
[a rendition of ‘I Did It My Way’ is appropriate here]
Biographical details and the way they are reflected in the opus of the author are all fascinating in themselves, but the real focus of the exercise is creativity, that most elusive of the arrows in a writer’s arsenal, and this is where the term ‘ZEN’ from the title of the collection comes into play.
You, me, and anybody on this planet could and should be a writer, should be able to express his or her personality in words, give back a little of the treasure chest of experience and emotions gathered over a lifetime.
“If it seems I've come the long way around, perhaps I have. But I wanted to show what we all have in us, that it has always been there, and so few of us bother to notice. When people ask me where I get my ideas, I laugh. How strange -- we're so busy looking out, to find ways and means, we forget to look in.”
What the orientals have to teach us is that contemplation is just as important as action. Action in writer’s terms means getting up each morning and putting down your ideas, your dreams and nightmares on paper. Contemplation is looking at the meaning of what you are doing, gazing at your own experience and trying to make sense of it in the larger social and emotional context.
‘Zen’ is that special ingredient that Westerners seem to ignore or gloss over and it means inner peace and beauty, patience and generosity, the place where ideas trump action and plot.
“Plot is no more than footprints left in the snow after your characters have run by on their way to incredible destinations.”
or, in another place,
“I thought you could beat, pummel, and thrash an idea into existence. Under such treatment, of course, any decent idea folds up its paws, turns on its back, fixes its eyes on eternity, and dies.”
Just be yourself, be honest and diligent and the muse will come to you when least expected, just like a stray cat that will run away if you try to force it, yet will come back in curious earnest if you turn your back to it and engage in something interesting.
Everything and anything could be a source of inspiration, from the works of other authors and poets, to the most mundane of household items. Your task is to entice the muse with everything that surrounds you, trash and treasure alike. Your task is to care deeply about the world you live in, to be curious and engaged in life, to understand your past and your future and your role in it by constantly questioning established thinking and ready-made answers.
“Ours is a culture and a time immensely rich in trash as it is in treasures.”
Authors are part of the world and not some detached, esoteric minds dwelling in ivory towers. Some of the harshest words in the essays are reserved for high-brow authors who cater to elitist literary magazines and despise low-brow popular entertainment for the masses. I don’t want to spend too much time refuting their existential angst, probably because I had enjoyed some of their output.
Much more fascinating in this collection for me is the way Ray Bradbury’s career, starting in the early fifties and going on into the nineties, is a mirror of the public’s initial disdain of speculative fiction as pure escapism and low-brow literature, not worthy of academic consideration, transformed through the talent of Golden Age authors into the most pure and honest expression of our modern age woes and aspirations.
Librarians were stunned to find that science-fiction books were not only being borrowed in the tens of thousands, but stolen and never returned!
“What’s in these books that makes them as irresistible as Cracker Jack?”
For Ray Bradbury the answer to this dilemma is in the issues these authors tackled in their high adventure yarns, going back to the fundamental myths and legends of our racial memory, such as Joseph Campbell or Mircea Eliade were teaching about in university courses.
The children sensed, if they could not speak, that the entire history of mankind is problem solving, or science-fiction swallowing ideas, digesting them, and excreting formulas for survival. You can’t have one without the other. No fantasy, no reality. No studies concerning loss, no gain. No imagination, no will. No impossible dreams: No possible solutions.
For Bradbury, Asimov, Clarke, Heinlein, Vonnegut Jr and the others, speculative fiction was never about entertainment or escapism – it was about our common future and the way only by imagining it today we can bring it about tomorrow.
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And his advice for prospective writers: be true to yourself, work hard every day to bring your dream to life, don’t sweat it if the going gets rough and at all times, keep a good hold on your sense of wonder : it’s your most precious asset.
We never sit anything out.
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled.
The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.
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“Go, children. Run and read. Read and run. Show and tell.”