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Often misidentified as a novel (even by the author), this work does not read like one; it reads like a memoir. Bradbury himself said he wrote it after reading Katherine Hepburn's memoir of her own experiences with director John Huston, making 'The African Queen'. When this book first appeared in 1992, it was largely reviewed as a novel and, as such, was found wanting. (Gee, maybe that's because it's not a novel.)

'GS,WW' is Bradbury's decades-later look back at a major turn in his artistic life. Reflecting more than a bit of 'Be careful what you wish for.', the book details the author's dream-come-true of getting a major writing assignment (the screenplay for 'Moby Dick') for one of his heroes (Huston). He sailed to Ireland (he had a fear of flying) and spent a number of months hammering out a script, while soaking in 'the local color' (i.e., a particular local pub) and dealing with Huston's innumerable eccentricities. Right at the end of his assignment, he dashed off its last chunk in a 7-hour frenzied flurry (while feeling Melville's spirit close-at-shoulder), whisked the pages off to Huston for his approval, then said goodbye to his new Irish pals and Ireland itself for good.

He was not around for the actual filming.

Bradbury augments his book with stories (and myths) of the local folk - and a number of those are engaging... until there's something of a steady lapse (in a short series dealing with the Irish national anthem being played in a movie theater) near the end.

By far, the book's main attraction is Bradbury's interaction with Huston (my favorite director, and the man behind my favorite film, 'The Night of the Iguana'). If, going in, you didn't know all that much about the director, the portrait of him here may come off as insufficient - or he may appear to be little more than mercurial, with an unknowable nature. (There really could have been more here to round him out better.) But, if you look deeply into the amount that Bradbury does give (and some of that is downright fascinating; Huston's vaguely permissive views on homosexuality, for example), you may notice Huston as a man beset by the kind of personal quirks that made him less effective as a human being, but uniquely qualified to be a director. He seemed to be always acting (esp. as a not-always-benign trickster) when not working - and working allowed (or, more accurately, forced) him to harness himself at his best.