This book is an absolute gem. It makes one long for the days when neighbors were neighborly, kids were just kids and the long hot days of summer are meant to be spent rocking on your front porch with a tall glass of iced tea.

+Reto Popsugar 2016: #25: Que transcurre en el verano+

nostalgic. candid. melancolic.
a summer through children eyes. discoveries and goodbyes.
to catch 'that' special instant inside a botle of dandelion wine, the wine for every day of summer.
maybe an almost love plenty of voyages and descoveries and 'if'.
family. places in the heart. food and wonder. and some touch of darkness to enjoy life. magic.

Sí, el verano era ritos, celebrados en el momento y el sitio indicados. El rito de la limonada y el té frío, el rito del vino, los pies calzados, o descalzos, y al fin, con una silenciosa dignidad, el rito de la hamaca en el porche.


----------------
A traves de relatos cortos enlazados flojamente a veces, Bradbury presenta pinceladas de verano en Green Town, un niño que empieza a aprender que esta vivo que un instante despues es consciente de su propia mortalidad, vecinos viejos dejando con renuencia atrás recuerdos y baules, y niños demasiado curiosos , incredulos y a la vez dispuestos a creer que pueden atrapar la felicidad dentro de una máquina. Como atrapar el tiempo a traves de las últimas memorias.

Hermoso. Las palabras recrean liricamente sensaciones llegando a rozar el realismo mágico.

-rtc-

If I was going to die and come back as any author I think that author might be Ray Bradbury. This book supposedly is set in the summer of 1928 but I swear the boys in this book could easily be me in the 1950s. Me and my friends in a Detroit suburb when there were still fields and haunted houses and a railroad track.

I caught the phrase magical realism in another review. I don’t really know much about categorizing types of fiction but I suppose that is good enough. But I just think that when you are 10 years old your mind has a way of seeing things in a somewhat magical way.

There are some wonderful adults in this book. Some of them are old ladies and some of them are old men. But mostly they seem to be old. The stories and the people that appear in this audible book are mostly marvelous. And although many of the events seem somewhat surreal, I could imagine all of them happening when I was 10 years old.

Fantastic book from one of my favourite writers ever. I read it at the perfect time, just as summer is ending. It suited my mood perfectly. For those who loved Boy's Life from McCammon or any other book aimed at adults about childhood memories, this is highly recommended.

It's also a very hard book to review. Somewhere between a set of short stories and a fully fledged book, it tracks summer events for a group of characters. It does lend it a somewhat disjointed feel but it doesn't take away from Bradbury's ability to hit you right in the soul with beautiful sentences. Anyone who can transport me and make me feel the sunlight deserves all the stars.

And then there is that day when all around, all around you hear the dropping of the apples, one by one, from the trees. At first it is one here and one there, and then it is three and then it is four and then nine and twenty, until the apples plummet like rain, fall like horse hoofs in the soft, darkening grass, and you are the last apple on the tree; and you wait for the wind to work you slowly free from your hold upon the sky, and drop you down and down. Long before you hit the grass you will have forgotten there ever was a tree, or other apples, or a summer, or green grass below. You will fall in darkness …

And here the paths, made or yet unmade, that told of the need of boys traveling, always traveling, to be men.

Beautiful stuff. I loved it.

Kiek daug kartų aš buvau paėmusi "Pienių vyną" į rankas ir vėl padėjus atgal į mamos knygų lentyną. Kažkaip vis lyg ir susigundau - ir ai, neįdomiai skamba čia viskas. Bet šiemet, geltonuojant pienėms, aš ir vėl ją prisiminiau, išsitraukiau ir atgal jau šįkart nebepadėjau. Ir kodėl aš ją tiek čiupinėjau, bet neskaičiau - dabar jau neatsakysiu, bet drąsiai galiu sakyti, kad tai buvo viena geriausių knygų skaitytų šiemet. Įsimylėjau.
Turbūt įdomiausias, painiausiais, labiausiai intriguojantis siužetas niekada nenusipirks mano meilės. Susižavėjimą, gerą įspūdį, pagarbą - žinoma - gali. Bet meilę sužadina tik tie, kurie moka rašyti ne "ką" - bet "kaip". Ir štai Bradbury rašo kaip. Kaip gražiai, nebanaliai, giliai, lengvai rašo Bradbury! Apie paprastus dalykus, jis sugeba taip nepaprastai.
Kita vertus - knyga buvo apie, atrodo, ne tokius ir paprastus dalykus - gyvenimą, mirtį, vaikystę ir senatvę. Bet sudėliota taip paprastai ir aiškiai, kad skaitant telieka galvoti - ir kaip aš viso šito nepastebėjau? Taigi paprastai nepaprasta ir nepaprastai paprasta - kas jums neaišku?
Ir žinote, kaupti daiktų nemėgau niekada, visada gražiausios kolekcijos susideda iš jausmų, patyrimų ir prisiminimų. Tai ši istorija tik dar labiau mane atplėšė nuo prisirišimo materijai – joks smulkus talismanas, amuletas, nuotrauka ar bilietėlis, netgi jokia senovinė močiutės skrynia ir a nei joks namas neatstos to, ką susidedame ir saugome širdyje bei mintyse.

Flaširano leto i odštampano detinjstvo, tako bih ukratko opisao knjigu Maslačkovo vino. Kad ti sve izgleda kao čarolija od zujanja pčela, starih stvari, nekih delova grada, predela u prirodi, znaj da si još uvek dete. Magija da osetiš punoću sveta može postojati samo u detinjstvu, kad je točak života tek pokrenut, neukaljan patinom odraslosti.

Priča o sećanjima na odrastanje u malom gradu je u središtu romana i snoliki prelazi iz slike u sliku, iz događaja u događaj, baš daju tu pravu detinju crtu bezbrižnosti i zanesenosti, drugačije, jasno razgraničeno se i ne bi dalo opisati bolje. Otkrivanje prolaznosti života, gledanje i slušanje odraslih ljudi je posmatranje sebe na odloženo, na lik u ogledalu budućnosti, onog što će oni potencijalno postati.

Daglas Spolding, protagonista romana, jeste alter ego Bredberija i podsetnik na dane poslednje nevinosti gde se sve posmatra nekim drugim očima. Možda poslednji delić slagalice ljudskosti.

I’m not sure whether to call this nostalgia tinged with magical realism or magical realism tinged with nostalgia. Bradbury effortlessly blends the two to create a warm and earnest remembrance of a long ago Midwestern summer through the eyes of a 12-year old boy.

This story is beautifully written but after struggling through 50+ pages I am calling it a day. It's not quite what I was expecting and seems to be a series of vignettes and loosely attached memories about summertime. Some of the vignettes were amusing but not amusing enough to hold my attention at this particular moment in time. I may try again when my mind isn't quite so cluttered. Right now I'm craving something darker.

Die Geschichte des Erwachsenwerdens des zwölfjährigen Douglas Spaulding.
Oder?
Ja.
Nein, viel mehr!

Im beschriebenen Sommer 1928 in der Kleinstadt Green Town gibt es viele weitere Akteure: Douglas' Bruder Tom, Eltern, Großeltern, Nachbarn, einen Trödelmann, sehr viele alte Menschen und drei Helens. Und dass Douglas in diesem Sommer erstmals spürt, dass er lebendig ist, geht Hand in Hand mit der Erkenntnis, dass auch er sterblich ist. Und da sind wir schon bei den ganzen alten Bewohnern von Green Town: Oft einsam, aber doch in wunderbarem, befreiendem Austausch mit den Jüngeren. Ich kenne keinen anderen Roman, in dem Alt und Jung so intensiv miteinander verbunden sind. Mein Favorit ist die Liebesgeschichte zwischen Helen Loomis und Bill Forrester. Und mit Geschichte meine ich eine eigene Geschichte, so wie viele Anekdoten hier für sich stehen können und doch zusammen ein Ganzes bilden.

Und unter all der heiteren Sommeratmosphäre aus Löwenzahn, neuen Turnschuhen, Kino und Eiscreme lauert immer das Dunkle. Der Einsame, der Frauen mordet. Die Einsamkeit der Alten und eigentlich aller angesichts des Dunklen. Die furchterregende Schlucht, die die Stadt teilt. Das hat in den besten Momenten etwas von Stephen Kings Stand by me - das Unschuldige der Kindheit mit dem Grauen verbunden.

Motive aus anderen Bradbury-Geschichten tauchen auf; gerade der Zirkus mitsamt Mr Black erinnert an Das Böse kommt auf leisen Sohlen (dort Mr Dark).

Und überhaupt ist vieles hier magisch: Die Art, wie der Löwenzahnwein Erinnerungen konserviert, die Vielleicht-Hexe Clara Goodwater, die Tarockhexe...

Es kommen ferner vor: Ein Elektroauto (wir schreiben das Jahr 1928!); eine Glücksmaschine, die traurig macht; eine echte Zeitmaschine...

Eine wunderbare Hommage Bradburys an seine Kindheit, die Erinnerungen/Assoziationen an die eigene Kindheit heraufbeschwört. In einer Sprache, bei der man ständig Sätze markieren möchte. Ein Buch, das man riecht, schmeckt und fühlt.

Check out my full, spoiler free, video review HERE. Beautifully written coming of age story with some deep thoughts on life and death. Everyone should read this book.

While no one can top Stephen King (for me), Ray Bradbury is certainly my second favorite author. His writing is so precise — he says neither too much nor too little — with nary a word out of place. He evokes emotions buried deep within me, every damn time.

Dandelion Wine is magical realism mixed with coming of age; this story oozes charm and is filled with quotable passages. While the main character is Douglas, a twelve year old boy who is realizing what it means to be 'alive', the narrative does shift focus to several peripheral characters. I must admit I didn't quite know where the plot was going some of the time (I felt it meandered a good deal), but I'm not sure if that was just me not understanding, or the book failing to engage me at certain points. Those times were few and far between, however!

This is excellent reading for summer. Bradbury uses the season and locale to his advantage, making it all come alive with his pen. While a little confusing at times, this deeply poetic novel is one to be read and treasured. A definite classic.

A really enjoyable read - moving, beautifully written, with fantastic atmosphere. I'd really recommend.