Word: attics
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...other tales, Author Bradbury cultivates what he calls the sense of "infinite interfusion." A boy is "taken over" by disease germs and himself becomes a bad seed whose touch can kill a pet canary. Exploring his musty attic, a man dons an Edwardian striped blazer and boater, is promptly whisked backwards through time to the lazy summer afternoons of his youth. A 12th century armored knight tilts tragically with a 20th century locomotive that he takes for a dragon. The Shore Line at Sunset is a simple parable on the vagrant power of beauty, but its mermaid heroine is evoked...
...hopefully sets out on a writing career with a ?250 legacy. His tactics might seem strange and austere to modern graduates of schools of creative writing, summer conferences, or writers' workshops. He pays four years' advance rent on an attic, a "cave" where he can "agonize in secret," buys some paper, a Waterman Ideal pen, a bed, a mug, a plate, a crate of oranges and a sack of coarse oatmeal. Except that he is "tired and sick to death of all people who on earth do dwell," he has no enemy in the world. But soon...
...single episode, often a single glancing thought or aspiration. The reader, in effect, leafs through a verbal photograph album, ranging from an eleven-line snapshot of Mrs. Bridge finding her small son staring meditatively at the dressmaker's dummy of her figure (thereafter, she hides it in the attic) to a seven-page description of a country-club dinner that is as savagely tedious as anything in Babbitt. There are sharply accurate glimpses of a far-from-adult grownup trying to cope with adolescents, of a dark, feminine hatred toward the machine. There is, above all, the nameless fear...
...than democratic about the egalitarian reading habits of his kiddies. "I remember," wrote Helga, "an odd group of books called Bongo, the Jungle Boy. This is etched on my brain because one evening my father stopped in at my room to say goodnight as he was going to his attic quarters. Bongo sailed across the room flapping while a thundering voice reverberated, 'Life's too short for this damned tripe...
...talents are for making his wife happy at night and miserable during the day. These facts, with the additional fact that Jimmy is not averse to making similar contributions to the nocturnal happiness of other women, comprise Mr. Osborne's simple, sufficient plot. The air in the Porters' dingy attic is thick with a one-way stream of recriminations; Jimmy has no need to beat his wife when he can browbeat her so effectively. At one point she leaves him; eventually she comes back, and the curtain falls on the same situation that prevailed before it rose...