Great Essays! This man is full of enthusiasm and the future-makes you want to affect the world and get us moving. We are lucky he was a writer.

I adore Bradbury, period. Loved his personal stories of fears, daily life, his friends, etc. Also enjoyed that somehow a glass of scotch or whiskey frequently appears in his adventures. So fun.

If this collection is any indication of his true character, Bradbury seems to have been enraptured by his own literary voice; he indulges to excess in metaphor and description, producing long, hand-wavey pieces that almost always either exist just as an opportunity for him to pat himself on the back (especially about his Moby Dick screenplay) or rave vaguely about the glories of this, that, and the other. His essays are bloated with descriptors that create pretty pictures, but contribute very little to the point he’s trying to make — and the degree to which he is dazzled by this, and by his achievements, make the book a tough wade through egotism. The most ironic part is when, midway through an essay in which he brags to an accomplished modern philosopher about his, Bradbury’s, ability to channel Melville when adapting Moby Dick, Bradbury is firmly but politely reminded by the philosopher’s wife that he should keep his ego in check — and then Bradbury carries on bragging through the second half of the essay.
I really hope that his fiction writing, which has won the respect of many great people, isn’t as self-indulgent as this collection of essays is. I’m giving it three stars because, beneath the self-satisfied prosiness, you can sometimes see valuable optimism and vision, which is worth it if you can put up with the fluff.

I love Bradbury's writing. By the time I get to the last page of his books, I always find myself scrambling for more: reading prefaces, introductions, epilogues, interviews with the author, etc. This collection of essays reads like a series of those "extras." While Bradbury's gift for language and image is entirely evident in each essay, these non-fiction pieces just made me wish that I were reading his fiction. (Imagine reading ONLY the prefaces of Bradbury's works, and you'll understand my frustration while working through the essays.) Bradbury Speaks is a treat for the SF completist and Bradbury fan, but it's best taken in small doses, generously mixed with the short stories and novels that have made Ray Bradbury so beloved.

This is a collection of essays written from the 1960's thru the 2000's. I love Bradbury's way with words, but the collection felt a little disjointed; the content was almost all recycled from other sources & in some cases, it felt as if the context was lost.

While most of the essays were entertaining; I think I'd rather be reading his fiction. Worth a library read; I'll be passing my copy on to someone else.

A little disjointed, but a fun look into the mind of a brilliant writer and thinker if you're willing to not over analyze. As a collection of essays, some make better points than others, although which ones is largely a matter of opinion.

Recommended to Bradbury's serious fans.

You wouldn't read this if you weren't already a fan. So, ignore this if you're looking for fiction

It's a collection of essays and other unpublished odds and ends but it's pure uninhibited Bradbury. I've attended a couple of his lectures so I have a passing idea of what he's like in person and this is dead-on.

He's very passionate about people with imagination. He roots out the brilliance in all arts like a pig after truffles. Nothing gets in his way of experiencing the best that humanity has to offer and nothing gets in his way of telling you about it.

I'm from a much later age as the author so a lot of his analogies to film and literary figures was lost on me. But the sincerity isn't, and I believe every word he says.

It's good stuff. He appreciates the past heights of our culture but it doesn't sour him that they are so far behind us. His voice still shines with enthusiasm for life. It's upbeat stuff that will send you back out to the mines to try again. The joy is not in the finding. The joy is in the hope that the fantastic is still out there, waiting for you to arrive.

Very inspiring. If you've wished you could face life like Douglas in Dandelion Wine, here's a practical guide.

It is painful to review a book you really, really did not enjoy by your historically favourite author.

A major problem with this book is that it is a collection of essays of his musings on life, people, and places intended to be read in isolation. Reading them as a book one after the other felt really tedious.

I don't want to think of my hero as a braggart or a name dropper; however, that is how this comes across with him telling story after story about himself being the most interesting or remarkable person in the room: the one with the ideas that work, the innovative thinker.

When I've read similar books by similar white men it just never works. It requires that the reader be as fascinated as the writer is with himself. I LOVE RAY BRADBURY and all of his fiction, but I can never get behind a book like this. It also just feels like a lot of mansplaining as though he is speaking to empty vessels.

A further issue is that many of his reference points are far from timeless. He speaks as though everyone knows his references, but he would have then to assume that the majority of his readers were coming of age at the same time as him: the '40s through to the '60s or so. Even worse, he speaks about issues such as gentrification as brilliantly redesigning urban wastelands definitely, DEFINITELY not through a social-justice lens. There was also some dreadfully dated humour (complete with the narrator -- read with an audiobook -- doing a faux Japanese accent) about Japanese tourists and cameras on a tour bus.

The book has its moments, and I'm sure there are many like me who would like to read anything he's ever written, but this was my worst Bradbury experience BY FAR. There were just so many misses. It feels this as though this came out at a time when publishers would literally have published anything with a well-known name attached to it.

(February 1, 2018) Every time I read Fahrenheit 451 I fall back in love with Bradbury, so I re-downloaded all the books of his I own on Kindle and browsed through. I decided to read an essay in this book, and then I just decided to read the whole book again. I liked it better this time than I did last - I wish he hadn't ended with essays about Paris and Los Angeles because those were not the writings I was interested in. Nevertheless, reading his thoughts regarding so many things really opens my eyes to the wonders of the universe. I wish I could have met the man, but I already know I would never have been able to keep up with him.

(April 8, 2015) I'm a big Bradbury fan and bought this book of essays when it was on sale for the Kindle, finally got around to reading it and --  it's OK. It was worth reading since I am at least to some extent a Bradbury scholar, and I enjoyed seeing beyond the fictions and into this man's mind. Nothing here that is going to turn your world inside out, and to some degree just reaffirmations of what we already know about Bradbury, but good stuff nonetheless.

I did not realize how much a part Bradbury played in the creation on Epcot, or what a big Disney fan he was.

I really enjoyed this book.

The TV and Internet commentary is EXTREMELY outdated, and he gets a little self-righteous at times, but I love him and value what he says anyway

MsW: Another title out of my lane, a collection of short stories by the sci-fi master himself. I picked it up to read only one of them, "Any Friend of a Trains a Friend of Mine". My mom loved both sci-fi and trains, this one shows a 1968 pub date so I'm wondering if she knew it...more later.

More than a few pieces were rambling and felt unfinished. While at times his honest love for the world around him shines through, I felt there was also self-aggrandizement.