"'Have I ever lied to you?' 'Many times!' 'But' - he shrugged - 'little white ones.'" (4)..."'Have I ever lied to you?' 'Often. But,' I added, 'little white ones.'" (14)"'...Our faces, don't you think? Smiles that made our jaws ache. We were exploding. They got the concussion.'" (35)"The carnival was either setting up in a new town or letting go; its brown tents inhaling by ay, exhaling its stale air by night as the canvases slid rustling down along the dark poles." (56)"'You know, I dislike you with something approaching the colossal proportions of first love. You have taught me mayhem. How?'""But yet, what my mind refused, my eye accepted. Aren't there two billion people in this world? Yes! All different snowflakes, no two the same! But now here, delivered into my gaze, endangering my ego and my complacency, here was a casting from the same absolutes, the identical mold. Should I believe, disbelieve, feel proud, or run scared? For here I stood witness to the forgetfulness of God." (129)"What can I say, how can I tell? Bug, long ago, had never bragged, but only told the truth. Once he got hold of a girl, she was weightless. By the time he had whisked and whirled and glided her once around the floor, she almost took off, it seemed he had to hold her down, she was pure gossamer, the closest thing to a hummingbird held in the hand so you cannot feel its weight but only sense its heartbeat sounding to your touch and there she went out and around and back, with Bug guiding and moving, enticing and retreating, and not fifty anymore, no, but eighteen, his body remembering what his mind thought it had long forgotten, for his body was free of the earth now, too. He carried himself, as he carried her, with that careless insouciance of a lover who knows what will happen in the next hour and the night soon following." (213) //any great dancer makes his partner look even better"All that's left of a smile or that funny look in the eyes of someone who knows she's not alive anymore, ever." (255)"Then, at one in the morning, the greatest Niagara of all shuddered the house, rinsed the windows to blindness, and shook the lights. And then, abruptly, the downpour, the immense Niagara ceased, followed by one great downfell blow of lightning which plowed and pinioned the dark earth close by, near, outside, with explosions of light as if ten thousand flashbulbs had been fired off. Then darkness fell in curtains of thunder, cracking, breaking the bones." (256)"It's nice to sleep in a car driving late and the road all white, watching the stars turn as you take the curves, listening to the grown-ups' voices underwater, remote, talking, talking, laughing, murmuring, whispering." (279)"And me crumpled down and smelling Grandmother's wind-cooled coat and the voices comforting and blanketing me with their solidity and their always-will-be-here sounds that would go on forever, myself always young and us always riding on a summer night in our old Kissel with the side flaps down." (280)"'Listen,' he said, as if she were really listening, 'None of that's important.'" (282)"I don't write these stories, they write me. Which causes me to live with a boundless enthusiasm for writing and life that some misinterpret as optimism." (288)"My final advice to myself, the boy magician grown old, and you? When your dawn theater sounds to clear your sinuses: don't delay. Jump. Those voices may be gone before you hit the shower to align your wits. Speed is everything. The 90-mph dash to your machine is a sure cure for life rampant and death most real. Make haste to live. Oh, God, yes. Live. And write. With great haste." (291)
I have been a devoted Bradbury fan since I first read FARENHEIT 451 in high school. Some say he is over the top; I say they are too closed in their thinking. Granted, Bradbury is an acquired taste. His word choice is unique, confounding, and even sometimes bizarre. But after reading one of stories, you will understand why he chose to describe something the way he did. Some of the earlier reviews about Bradbury's works have stated that he has focused too much on the dying notion of a 40s or 50s childhood, that he has repeatedly mined and recycled his ideas only to make them bland or less impacting. To those reviewers I offer my pity. Yes, he has seemed to stick with a certain age and storytelling that lends him to recycle an idea or two, but that is where the magic happens in his storytelling. Just when you think that you've read something like this before, Bradbury takes your hand and reassures you that this is a different version, one to think about, ruminate over, or discuss with your own imagination.Bradbury encourages you to look beyond what you think you know and explore different realms of thought and possibility. QUICKER THAN THE EYE not only offers a reader to escape into a world of wonder, but makes a wonder of the known world. Not all of these stories are the proverbial homerun, but take a look at these ones:Zaharoff/Richter Mark VRemember Sascha?The FinneganThe Very Gentle MurdersAt the End of the Ninth YearBugExchange I’m sure that if you read these stories you will see how a true craftsman can beguile an audience through wordplay and story, description and setting. There is also an afterword, where Bradbury urges everyone to make every moment and possibility everlasting, important, awe-inspiring. (if you’ve ever had any notions of wanting to write yourself, this afterword may be the encouragement and fire you’ve sought but never found.) You may have had your doubts about Bradbury in the past, but forget about those reservations and allow yourself to become lost in his creation.We can all use a bit of time in someone else’s playground every once in a while. Don’t you agree?
What do You think about Quicker Than The Eye (1996)?
This 1996 collection of later short tales illustrates just how subjective the measurement of a literary genius can be. If these short stories were written by a new writer the critics would be raving. But these pieces are written by a older gentlemen whose genius has already been proven and proven again. Bradbury's masterpiece collections of short fiction will always be books like The Martian Chronicle and The Illustrated Man. The stories in Quicker Than The Eye are beautifully written but they do not meet the expectations expected from a writer of Bradbury's esteem. They are often more like brief ideas or outlines than fully fleshed fiction. A couple are homages to other icons such as Laurel and Hardy or Dorian Gray and these happen to be my favorites of the lot. But any Bradbury piece is worth reading so enjoy!
—Marvin
This was an odd collection of short stories combined into one book. I didn't realize it at first, reading the first chapter thinking, this is odd...then going to the second chapter where they were all new characters. It was, however, intriguing enough to keep my attention to the very end. I think this is an excellent illustration of Bradbury's writing process, the ideas and formations of his main stories, and it was interesting to see the stories develop and come to their conclusions. I also enjoyed the epilogue.All in all, if you enjoy science fiction and fantasy, you'll enjoy the short stories you'll find within these pages.
—Angela
This is a collection of short stories published in 1996. Mr. Barbury and I go way back, not only in terms of his early works (Farhenheit 451, The Illustrated Man, The Martian Chronicles), but also in terms of my own literary appetites. (I "discovered" his books while I was in high school.) I love Ray Bradbury short stories and, although I won't say that this collection is his finest work, it does nothing to diminish my love and admiration for his artistry. Most, if not all, of these stories have a bit of nostalgic aura to them and quite a few of them look back at the past through older (and wiser) eyes. My favorites from this book were:Another Fine MessThe FineganThe Very Gentle MurdersThe Witch DoorAt The End of the Ninth YearOnce More, LegatoAs I said, it's not his best, but definitely worth reading.
—Mike
