miércoles, 6 de junio de 2012

Carta de un amigo recientemente fallecido

September 15, 2006
Dear Shawna Thorup:

I'm glad to hear that you good people will be celebrating my book, "Fahrenheit 451." I thought you might want to hear how the first version of it, 25,000 words and which appeared in a magazine, got done.


I needed an office and had no money for one. Then one day I was wandering around U.C.L.A. and I heard typing down below in the basement of the library. I discovered there was a typing room where you could rent a typewriter for ten cents a half hour. I moved into the typing room along with a bunch of students and my bag of dimes, which totaled $9.80, which I spent and created the 25,000 word version of "The Fireman" in nine days. How could I have written so many words so quickly? It was because of the library. All of my friends, all of my loved ones, were on the shelves above and shouted, yelled and shrieked at me to be creative. So I ran up and down the stairs, finding books and quotes to put in my "Fireman" novella. You can imagine how exciting it was to do a book about book burning in the very presence of the hundreds of my beloveds on the shelves. It was the perfect way to be creative; that's what the library does.


I hope you enjoy reading my passionate output, which became larger a few years later and became popular, thank God, with a lot of people.


I send you all my good wishes,

 
Ray Bradbury


Nota: Shawma Thorup es el asistente del director de la Biblioteca Pública de Fayetteville, que había promovido la lectura de esta inmensa novela.

1 comentario:

  1. Estuve viendo anoche la película de Truffaut basada en la novela de Bradbury, una referencia fundamental para el imaginario moderno, dice todo el mundo, bien. Lo primero que se me vino a las mientes fue El Quijote y su donoso escrutinio, menos inquisitivo que el que sucede en la novela Fahrenheit 451. Este es el comienzo de un hermoso poema de Ray Bradbury titulado las estrellas.

    No han visto las estrellas.


    Ni una, ni una siquiera


    de todas las criaturas de este mundo


    en todas las edades desde que las arenas tocaron por primera vez el viento


    ningún animal, ni uno siquiera


    entre todos los animales se ha parado


    en pradera, en llano o en colina


    y ha conocido la emoción de ver esos fuegos;


    nuestras almas admiran lo que ellos nunca, nunca conocieron.

    continuación aquí: http://zumo-de-poesia.blogspot.com.es/2012/06/las-estrellas-por-ray-bradbury.html

    ResponderEliminar

La Isla de Siltolá

 I Finalmente, después de varios intentos fallidos, el mensajero nos ha encontrado en casa y me ha entregado los ejemplares de Una triste bú...