Usually, I recommend a couple of books. Today, I’m only going to recommend one.
Because I really want you to read it.
The book is Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. (You can stop reading now and place it on hold at the library, or buy it used here.)
But, if you want some more context, here’s:
Five reasons I think you might like Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury
1. The writing style itself is beautiful.
It’s visual. It’s visceral. Sometimes description bores me (just get to the point already!) — but in this book, I found it to be of a particularly beautiful kind.
It put me right in the eyes of the characters. I was there, in Green Town, Illinois, 1928. Or at least, Bradbury convinced me I was.
(The excerpt below won’t do it justice. Excerpts never really do.)
Sitting on the summer-night porch was so good, so easy and so reassuring that it could never be done away with. These were rituals that were right and lasting; the lighting of pipes, the pale hands that moved knitting needles in the dimness, the eating of foil-wrapped, chilled Eskimo Pies, the coming and going of all the people. —Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine
2. It’s nostalgic.
This one probably depends on who you are. Maybe you were never a boy growing up in an United States suburb. (I was.)
But — I think if you grew up in an age without phones or easy Internet access (or wish you did), you’ll find this book emotionally nostalgic, even if it’s not representative of your actual childhood.
“Gardening is the handiest excuse for being a philosopher. Nobody guesses, nobody accuses, nobody knows, but there you are, Plato in the peonies, Socrates force-growing his own hemlock.” —Grandpa Spaulding in Dandelion Wine
3. It’s got that profoundityness.
You know. I don’t quite know how to put it into words — but I learned something about myself and the world as I read.
I don’t exactly know what yet. But it was full of insights, and they were the happy kind that you stumble across, not the forceful kind you find in school.
I think if you read this, you’ll find yourself going “Hm” and then thinking a little about your life as you get ready for bed. And that’s a good thing.
“The first thing you learn in life is you’re a fool. The last thing you learn in life is you’re the same fool.” —Leo Auffman in Dandelion Wine
4. It’s broken up in short bits.
The chapters are very short. They’re all connected, but it does read a little bit like a short story collection (in the best way possible).
I found myself reading this book the way I eat pretzels — “Just one chapter. Wow, that was quick. OK, one more chapter.”
I also found the short chapters helped me feel like I’d accomplished some reading before bed. Reading a “whole chapter,” even if it was only three pages, feels really nice.
5. It’s warm.
I have some favorite books that are horribly bleak. I love them. Life isn’t always about being happy and fuzzy. (And this book knows that too — the series of chapters on Leo Auffman’s Happiness Machine tackle the issue beautifully.)
But there’s something wonderful about a book that is just pleasant to read and makes you feel good about yourself and other people.
“What ever happened to happy endings?”
“They got them on shows at Saturday matinees.”
“Sure, but what about life?”
-Doug & Tom Spaulding in Dandelion Wine
And that’s it!
If I had read this book any earlier in the year, you’d have heard about it in my last recommendations video. Or you’d have seen it in this fun picture I took!
But I only just read it last month. And it was delightful. So I wanted to pass that joy on to you.
If you end up reading it, shoot me an email to let me know how you enjoyed it! (No pressure if you don’t like it — everyone has different tastes.)
Happy New Year & happy reading!
-Tim
P.S. Thank you to FC Shultz for putting me on to Ray Bradbury. (I know Bradbury is a famous writer, but hearing Shultz talk about him was what got me to actually read Dandelion Wine as well as Something Wicked This Way Comes. If you’re a writer or interested in writing, I really recommend Shultz’s short & helpful videos!
I JUST picked this one up for 3 bucks at my local used bookstore (along with a few other Bradbury short story collections) moving it to the top of the stack.
" One ought not to judge her : All children are heartless. They have not grown a heart yet, which is why they can climb trees and say shocking things and leap so very high that grown-up hearts flutter in terror. Hearts weigh quite a lot. That is why it takes so long to grow one. But, as in their reading and arithmetic and drawing, different children proceed at different times. ( It is well known that reading quickens the growth of a heart like nothing else.) Some small ones are terrible and fey, Utterly Heartless. Some are dear and sweet and Hardly Heartless at all. September stood very generally in the middle on the day the Green Wind took her, Somewhat Heartless, and Somewhat Grown. "
I can probably say that, whoever you are, you're gonna find in this story something that speaks to you in a very personal way.