Ray Bradbury

The October Country

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Welcome to a land Ray Bradbury calls “the Undiscovered Country” of his imagination--that vast territory of ideas, concepts, notions and conceits where the stories you now hold were born. America's premier living author of short fiction, Bradbury has spent many lifetimes in this remarkable place--strolling through empty, shadow-washed fields at midnight; exploring long-forgotten rooms gathering dust behind doors bolted years ago to keep strangers locked out.. and secrets locked in. The nights are longer in this country. The cold hours of darkness move like autumn mists deeper and deeper toward winter. But the moonlight reveals great magic here--and a breathtaking vista.
The October Country is many places: a picturesque Mexican village where death is a tourist attraction; a city beneath the city where drowned lovers are silently reunited; a carnival midway where a tiny man's most cherished fantasy can be fulfilled night after night. The October Country's inhabitants live, dream, work, die--and sometimes live again--discovering, often too late, the high price of citizenship. Here a glass jar can hold memories and nightmares; a woman's newborn child can plot murder; and a man's skeleton can war against him. Here there is no escaping the dark stranger who lives upstairs…or the reaper who wields the world. Each of these stories is a wonder, imagined by an acclaimed tale-teller writing from a place shadows. But there is astonishing beauty in these shadows, born from a prose that enchants and enthralls. Ray Bradbury's The October Country is a land of metaphors that can chill like a long-after-midnight wind…as they lift the reader high above a sleeping Earth on the strange wings of Uncle Einar.
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320 printed pages
Publication year
2013
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Quotes

  • Wendolín Perlahas quoted5 years ago
    From the age of twelve I knew I was in a life and death match, winning every time I finished a new story, threatened with extinction on those days I did not write.
  • Viridiana Trujillohas quoted7 years ago
    She had snapped her hand back, hoping he hadn’t heard the movement of her silent reaching.
  • Viridiana Trujillohas quoted7 years ago
    The lungs did not rest but were exercised as if she were a drowned person and she herself performing artificial respiration to keep the last life going.

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