By
Ray Bradbury
Absolutely breathtaking, The Martian Chronicles is
a classic for a reason. Bradbury, more than anyone else, can make science
fiction not seem like sci-fi. He elevates the medium to poetry.
I had read this when I was young, and vaguely remembered
some of the stories. But many were pleasant surprises. Even the worst
are good, but the best are amazing. My favorites are The Earth Men, Night
Meeting, Usher II, The Fire Balloons, and There
Will Come Soft Rains. The Earth Men in particular is a great
stand-alone story: men finally land on Mars and find a thriving city
of Martians … who don't care that they've arrived. Why? It's something
you'll never expect. And Usher II is lots of fun, paying homage
to Edgar Allen Poe and all the great fantasy writers of the past.
Some of the other chapters are inconsistent, especially
in the beginning. The Martians themselves seem to change throughout the
book. It's good that they're mysterious, but I prefer the wise, silent
Martians to the earlier, weird suburban Martians. And The Off Season is
the only story that just didn't make sense to me; I felt like I was missing
something. Nonetheless, Bradbury's Mars is vivid and distinct and sticks
in a haunting, brilliant red part of your mind …
The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock
to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand
and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting
the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the
night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms
of rosy smoke. And from the rockets ran men with hammers in their hands
to beat the strange world into a shape that was familiar to the eye,
to bludgeon away all the strangeness …
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