Perfect sequel to Dandelion Wine. The summertime adventures of Douglas Spaulding, his younger brother Tom, and their group of friends is fun and nostalgic! Fun coming of age story by an outstanding author! Highly recommended!

Dandelion Wine and Something Wicked This Way Comes are two of my favorite books, but I was quite disappointed by Farewell Summer. I had a hard time deciding between two and three stars, but bumped up to three due to Ray Bradbury's writing style.

Is it as good as Dandelion Wine? Well...to be honest, no. But still, it's a fine read for any Bradbury fan and someone looking to catch a bit more of Green Town, IL. Where Dandelion Wine captured the joys of innocent childhood and a town full of unique and charming characters (bottled like a nice wine), Farewell Summer is more about a boy's passage (like a change in seasons) from childhood into adolescence. Douglas learns about old people. He learns about how his actions can effect other people. And he learns that girls exist and that maybe there's something wondrous and exciting about these girls (that is once he's experienced his first kiss). Think of this book as a nice piece of cheese to nibble on after you've taken a good long drink of Dandelion Wine.

Like other Bradbury books, especially those in the Green Town series, this Farewell Summer ruminates on the spectrum of age. It mirrors its themes with the Civil War chronology, swapping the North vs. South with the Young vs. Old of the town. I loved the creativity in the escalating skirmishes. I won't remember too many details from this book - that's not a criticism as much as the reality of most Bradbury stories I've read - because the details, and even the plot itself, are often secondary to Bradbury's prose. Like in other books, Bradbury shows in Farewell Summer, how much fun writing is - how invoking imagery, investing in word choice, and delivering poetic cadence is a joy in itself.

...speaking of imagery (or maybe better stated as unwanted "mental pictures"), I did not anticipate the ending going there. An awkward section that captures some of the awkwardness of growing up.

I read this in September thinking it an appropriate tribute to align with the seasons, like you might save Dandelion Wine as a June read or Something Wicked for Halloween, but the title is a misdirect for those like myself that didn't read the plot description before starting. A fun read especially if you'd enjoy Civil War symbolism, and one that will sit in the middle-tier of the Bradbury books I've read to this point, which is becoming an extensive list.

Not as good as the Dandelion Wine, but still, a very beautiful and emotional book, perfect for a summer evening. Shorter and darker than DW, it will bring you back to the era it described even if you never were there.

Улюблена у цього автора. Коротко, атмосферно, чарівно, красиво і насичено водночас.
Продовження "кульбабового вина", яке я не могла оминути. Події відбуваються у добре відомому Грінтауні, тільки головні герої тепер на рік старші. Кінець літа близько. Ми знайомимось ближче з оточенням Дугласа. Хлопчаки-розбишаки створюють свою війну проти шкільної ради.

хуйня, як на мене, перша частина ван лав

Wistful and understated, especially in comparison to  Dandelion Wine and  Something Wicked This Way Comes. Those two books celebrate the exuberance of youth through the eyes and heart of a young boy in Bradbury's fictional Green Town, Illinois. This one combines a coming-of-age story with the reflections of a village elder looking back over a long life near its end. It's touching in a bittersweet sort of way when you consider it was Bradbury’s last published novel.

Атмосфера Ґрінтауна, безтурботність і мій «нечитун»

I'm sorry Mr Bradbury! I tried, I did!

I made it to page 68. I don't know if it was me and wrong timing? Maybe it was the story and I couldn't relate to it? It is admittedly hard for me to get into books with a child main character. *NOT A CHILDREN'S BOOK THOUGH* Someone dies and somehow relatedly a bunch of neighborhood boys decide it's time to play war games.
Unlike most of Bradbury's other books this is all one story, so there's no skimming through and getting to the next one. The chapters are SUPER short. Generally a couple pages. That's always nice. I'm not worried, we still have a pretty good ratio going. Only 2 so far that I haven't been able to get into, but MANY I've greatly enjoyed. I'll see you again.

"Трябва да се научиш как да не се вкопчваш, преди да се научиш как да придобиваш. Животът трябва да бъде докосван, а не удушаван.
Трябва да се отпуснеш, понякога да оставяш нещата да се случват, а друг път да се движиш заедно с тях. Също като с лодките. Поддържаш мотора включен, за да я насочваш по течението.
И когато чуеш шума на водопада все по-близо, разтребваш в лодката, слагаш си най-хубавата шапка и вратовръзка и си пушиш пурата чак до мига, когато пропадаш.
И това е истинска победа. Не да спориш с бездната.'

At the end of August 1973, I was a newly turned 10-year-old, running wild around the vast (or so it seemed at the time) woods surrounding the house where we lived.
The scent of summer lingered in the air, in the pine needles, in the insects buzzing under the sunshiny rays penetrating the canopy of pines, poplars, eucalyptus and other trees that I don't remember the name of.

With only a dozen cars passing through each day, it was the perfect place for biking. The wind blew through my long hair (yes, it was long, once! now is just absent) while I rode, with my dog following closely behind me; we would run to meet my neighbour friends and then we would pretend to be part of an army fighting off alien invasions, mythical pirates, and other hidden threats, using the bushes and masses of rocks as cover while we uncover the famous treasure hidden in an island.
At nightfall, we would start improvised campsites around an imaginary fire (our fathers always refused us the real deal... I wonder why..?) to pass the night. But when the stars came out of hiding to sparkle in the dark sky we would find an excuse to go back home and sleep in a comfortable and safe bed, free of bugs and pine needles.
It was a hot summer and the last days of school holidays were running out fast but we didn't care because the future was a million years ahead.
October was on the corner and I had no clue at all about the fact that 7 months later the country would be swept by a revolution with a real army on the streets, and 1 year later I was in an aeroplane, abandoning my country, my house, my friends, and the worst, my dog, in the direction of another country on another continent and another completely different universe. I died for the first time when I was 11 years old, flying 10000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, and without the plane dropping into the sea.
Floating through the clouds, with memories rushing up to meet me, in the space between the heavens and the corner of some foreign city where I lost my youth forever, I could only hold on to a dream when I was trapped between the sense of wonder of a new fauna and the nostalgic sadness of loss.
Nostalgia is a treacherous concept that, I think we're all well acquainted with. It involves fondly remembering at least some bygone days, free of worries and filled with innocent happiness. However, life moves on with or without us. Whether we like it or not, responsibilities start getting piled upon us, and we must simply learn how to deal with them.
Can't you see? It all makes perfect sense when expressed in dollars and cents! And the "future" was already there, locked in the "past".
Youth is ephemeral; a fleeting moment, short-lived, and easily missed or overlooked, a transient phase that slips away quietly and imperceptibly into the night of Time, never to be seen again. We never realise that it is fast going away, and by the time we notice its absence it's already long-gone and it's too late.
And no one can write about those feelings of loss of youth as Ray Bradbury did.

"Farewell Summer" was published in 2006 and was the last novel released during the author's lifetime. But it wasn't a "new" book. It was actually, part of his 1957 novel "Dandelion Wine" that was "split", at the time, in two by his publisher, on the grounds that the book was too thick. I wonder what that publisher would have to say about the books of Tolkien, Sanderson, or Jordan.

This book is about the bittersweet challenges of growing up, taking on responsibilities, ageing, seeking redemption, and the discovery that death and girls exist and are not related in any way.
Set 55 years after the events of Dandelion Wine, this story takes place about a year after the previous book's summer. The narrative unfolds during an early October Indian Summer, evoking a sense of nostalgia and contemplation on themes of memories, ageing, and the eternal cycle of birth and death.
I read Dandelion Wine when I was 17 and was enchanted by an adolescence cut short from me, that I wasn't having, and would very much like to have had. As I've got older, Bradbury keeps holding the magic that he used to enticing his readers.

Two hundred years from now, on Mars, Bradbury's books will continue to be read. His work has literally travelled out of this world - a digitised copy of "The Martian Chronicles" was sent aboard NASA’s Phoenix Mars Lander in 2008.

Ray Bradbury belongs to the exclusive club of elite writers whose every word seems to be chosen so every sentence has a true meaning beyond merely filling pages. He had a gift for transporting us deep into his dream landscapes, and he does so once again here, magnificently.