something wicked this way comes full book

I think he can pull of stream-of-consciousness. I very much enjoyed these digressions, since Bradbury is such an awesome writer. How come I think he’s richer? Because, Will thought, I sit on the rock in the sun and old Jim, he prickles his arm-hairs by moonlight and dances with hoptoads. Jim’s got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back, and the tennis shoes on his feet. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and-lickety split! I clumb hills. For example,īoy, it’s the same old thing. The point of view shifts between characters, and each character seems to go off on his (usually his) own thought tangents the reader gets carried along for the ride. The book has an interesting feel to it as you’re reading, you almost feel as if you’re hallucinating in parts. Best friends Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway (born a minute after and a minute before Halloween, respectively) get on the wrong side of the carnival and find themselves locked in a battle of good and evil. But this is no ordinary carnival: it’s supernatural, and very evil. A carnival comes to a sleepy, Midwestern town.

A quick, no-spoilers, no-details plot review is in order. Somehow, his enthusiasm never wore off on me. I have a friend who’s in (platonic) love with Bradbury, and who has corresponded with him for several years. I’ve never read anything by Ray Bradbury before I haven’t actively avoided him, but he wasn’t on my TBR shortlist. Very appropriate! And the book just kept getting better.

Thus, the first words to greet my eyes wereįirst of all, it was October, a rare month for boys. II challenge with Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes. The spider-web hears them, trembles-breaks. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners.

What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. “‘For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life where October follows September and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ’s birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring, or revivifying summer.

Something wicked this way comes full book