A review by michaelstearns
Death Is a Lonely Business by Ray Bradbury

4.0

It's funny, but thinking back to this more than a quarter-century after I read it, I remember two things: First, that I wasn't in love with the ultimate solution to the "mystery" in the novel. And second, that the opening paragraphs were brilliant and so Bradburyesque as to verge on—but not cross over into—parody. From memory, then, something along the lines of: "Venice in the thirties was a wonderful place to live if you liked being sad." Something like that, anyway, has stuck in the craw of my mind ever since.