Friday
Aug222014

At-A-Site Theater presents a Summer Project Celebrating Birthdays of Dead Writers: Ray Bradbury, August 22

AUGUST 22, 2014

RAY BRADBURY (1920-2012)


Location:   Downtown Asheville NC

Time:         1:30pm - 4:00pm

On the corner of North Lexington Ave & Walnut St map link
or Haywood St near Malaprops map link 
or the "Iron" sculpture at Wall St & Battery Park Ave   map link


(Please note:  The Reader may occasionally need to move to an alternative site because of weather or other onsite circumstances)

 


Passersby are invited to chose from a menu of works by this American (self-described) fantasy writer and essayist, who wrote the groundbreaking anti-censorship book, Farenheit 451 (the temperature at which paper burns). The selection will then be read to them.

 

Bradbury never attended college. 

“I don't believe in colleges and universities. I believe in libraries because most students don't have any money. When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money. I couldn't go to college, so I went to the library three days a week for 10 years.” 

 

“You can’t learn to write in college. It’s a very bad place for writers because the teachers always think they know more than you do—and they don’t. They have prejudices. They may like Henry James, but what if you don’t want to write like Henry James? They may like John Irving, for instance, who’s the bore of all time. A lot of the people whose work they’ve taught in the schools for the last thirty years, I can’t understand why people read them and why they are taught. The library, on the other hand, has no biases. The information is all there for you to interpret. You don’t have someone telling you what to think. You discover it for yourself.”

 

More information about Ray Bradbury can be found at Wikipedia and at a Ray Bradbury website devoted to his life and works.

 

 

"In writing the short novel Fahrenheit 451 I thought I was describing a world that might evolve in four or five decades. But only a few weeks ago, in Beverly Hills one night, a husband and wife passed me, walking their dog. I stood staring after them, absolutely stunned. The woman held in one hand a small cigarette-package-sized radio, its antenna quivering. From this sprang tiny copper wires which ended in a dainty cone plugged into her right ear. There she was, oblivious to man and dog, listening to far winds and whispers and soap opera cries, sleep walking, helped up and down curbs by a husband who might just as well not have been there. This was not fiction."

 

“I still love books. Nothing a computer can do can compare to a book. You can't really put a book on the Internet.


Three companies have offered to put books by me on the Net, and I said, 'If you can make something that has a nice jacket, nice paper with that nice smell, then we'll talk.' All the computer can give you is a manuscript. People don't want to read manuscripts. They want to read books.


Books smell good. They look good. You can press it to your bosom. You can carry it in your pocket.”

 

 

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