He just worked as a wizard

Memory of Ray Bradbury

He just worked as a wizard. Ray Bradbury died
On June 6, 91-year-old Ray Bradbury, a writer, dreamer, essayist, humanist and wizard, left this world to sail into those foggy and luminous spheres that he wrote so much about. In the story “Wine from Dandelion”, one wise old woman tells the great-granddaughter that she could not wait to try death, like a rare tidbine dish, that she is full of curiosity, but actually she will forever knock out the carpets and cook dinners for her family. And she is picked up by a delicate surf and carries it to the open azure sea. The death of poets and sages. I hope that Ray Bradbury has experienced something similar. All his life he taught not to be afraid of death, feel free to run out to her porch, drink the cold snow air of the past from the green bubble. Such air saved the life of Douglas, the hero of the "wine from dandelions."

Embarry from the ground
If we are still alive, there is a share of his wise and good participation in this. Bradbury, a native of Green Illinois, was afraid that the machine, pragmatic, muffled civilization of the United States would crush the cultures of a more artistic and humanitarian model, and he began to create “Martian Chronicles” in the late 40s of the XX century. Another civilization, dark -eyed, gold -eyed Martians, lovers of lonely walks through the deserts, creators of lace stone tower and false memory for earthlings who climb on Mars without demand, like rude conquistadors. The writer's favorite heroes are always on the side of the weakest, and one astronaut begins to kill his own comrades when he understands that they are destroying the civilization of Mars.
Bradbury strictly judges humanity. Having not preserved good and beauty on earth, they will not give anything good to Mars or the Galaxy. And how much Bradbury has stories about escape from the Earth! The planet that has burned, burned in nuclear fire - and a handful of fugitives on deserted Mars (he also has one) that will start all over again.
But the world is still saved by kindness. Negroes fled for a long time from segregation to Mars, and after a planetary disaster there is a bunch of surviving whites. And the Afromarsians are preparing signs for trams, cinemas, schools: "only for blacks." They finally want to take revenge, they are now the owners of life. But when the blacks see miserable and humiliated refugees, praying them about life, about a piece of bread, about a throat of air, they become ashamed. They break their signs and accept white as equals. Here Ray Bradbury is the comrade -in -arms of Martin Luther King. He put this story the basis of the abolition of racial inequality.
In the story “Smile” on a poisoned, turning into a radioactive landfill, people revenge culture: destroy the masterpieces of painting and sculptures. But a hungry and plague boy saves a piece of canvas: the smile of the Jaconda.
Fee for fear
The sad wizard of Bradbury pronounces the death sentence to humanity in the stories “Tomorrow End of the World”, “Embroidery” and “There will be affectionate rain”. The entire population of the planet, except for children, learns that in October 1968, on one fateful day, no one will wake up on earth. The cup of patience of the Higher Forces has been overflowing. War, torture, concentration camps, Hiroshima ... There are neither marches of protests, nor tears, nor complaints. They calmly wash the dishes, go to bed, extinguish light. Everyone knows that they deserve it. And in the “affectionate rain” on the charred planet, only shadows of people remained, but a mechanical voice in an automated house reads a favorite poem of the dead housewife: “Both the bird, nor the willow will shed tears if the human race disappears from the earth. Both spring and spring will meet the new dawn, not noticing that we are no longer there. ” "

Bradbury strictly judges humanity. Not preserving good and beauty on earth will not give anything good either to Mars or the galaxy

”In the 50s and in the early 60s of the XX century, people lived in the eternal fear of nuclear Armageddon. And who knows, maybe in the fact that rockets did not fall to the cities of Russia, Europe and the USA, there is a contribution and fantastic stories of Ray Bradbury.
Exploring the gloomy secrets of the human soul, Bradbury warns: when children are raising a mechanical house and artificial lions from a holographic children's, children may want to get rid of their parents, their hatred will revive Lviv (Veld). And the baby may wish the death of his mother and father if life rushes sharply into his cozy intrauterine world (“little killer”). And the materialized things from which the tigers will devour exactly the astronaut who tramples unknown flowers and shoots in unknown birds (“Tigers can be found here”). His comrades in the morning will find bones, scraps of a spacesuit and traces of unknown animals ...
Ray Bradbury is not only smart, thin, noble, he is also incredibly beautiful. His stories sparkle with eternal diamonds, sparkle and shimmer with all the colors of the world. They smell of dandelions, apples, strawberries and dew.
Password: Book
But the "most important song" Ray Bradbury smells of anger and ashes. “451 degrees Fahrenheit”-a story, a story, a story that Bradbury wrote in 1953, we went to the “Library of Fiction” much later, but as well as possible. Bradbury is a fierce individualist, and the society of unified inhabitants-whims from this anti-utopia for him is unbearable. In this society, it is forbidden to read and store books, their burning, sometimes together with the owners, and firefighters are the new Gestapo, the new NKVD, and the new dictatorship. Seventeen -year -old Clarissa dies under the wheels of a car just because it is not like everyone else: she walks in the rain, dreams, thinks, loves loneliness. Guy Monteg, a firefighter, also thought and became an outcast, began to read books, earned a death sentence and went to the scribes-undergrounds.
The Gospel, Solzhenitsyn, Akhmatov, Gumilyov and Orwell were taken from us. They put it in a bag and carried it to some secret crematorium, and in each KGB officer we saw the firewall Pitty, and the people who came with a search asked why they did not burn Bunin and Chekhov, because these writers are also against their evil world.
Ray Bradbury helped to stand in the long Soviet winter, and he will be next to us, while the brave men in his articles, performances at rallies and in the courts will pronounce the words of two Protestants from the 16th century, repeated by a woman who did not leave her books even in fire: “Be courageous, Ridley. With God's mercy, we will light a candle in England today that, I believe, they will never be extinguished. ”