Though the 16 stories that comprise this collection are fitted into a super-imposed chronological framework, and are joined by some short units of bridging material, they were originally composed as stand-alones, not part of any larger unity. Bradbury was primarily a writer of short fiction, the main medium for his characteristic supernatural and science fiction in the era when he started writing; this book simply collects most of the stories he composed in the 1940s set on, or related to, Mars. Several of them have totally conflicting or contradictory premises and features, and they vary wildly in tone and effect. (They're uneven in quality as well, as noted below.) But that said, there are certain recurrent themes that bind them. Bradbury envisioned Mars colonization as a kind of re-enactment of the settling of the American frontier, a new New World with the same pitfalls and the same potential promise. He also was haunted, as were most post-World War II SF writers working in the long shadow of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, by the threat of nuclear war, and that concern is reflected in a number of the stories.Some reviewers, both on and off of Goodreads, have faulted Bradbury for a drastic lack of scientific accuracy in his portrayal of Mars, which he pictures as much more hospitable to humanoid life than it actually is. (His ascription to his Martians of psi powers --the possibility of which, to say the least, is undemonstrated-- also doesn't please hard SF purists.) To a degree, those criticisms miss the point, however: Bradbury isn't trying to write scientifically accurate, hard SF, and failing at it; rather, he's writing from the standpoint of the genre's "soft" tradition (of which he was always an exponent, even in the days when the U.S. pulp SF ghetto was rigidly dominated by the hard school). He simply posited the kind of Mars he wanted for the kind of stories he wanted to tell, knowing full well that it was fictional and invented; if we take his "Mars" on those terms, the stories work as he intended.Criticism has also been directed at these stories on the grounds of an alleged anti-American agenda. His space explorers/colonists are all Americans; they invade and occupy Mars, inadvertently bringing disease germs that virtually annihilate the native Martians, who are portrayed in "Ylla" as an aesthetic, artistic race. "Way in the Middle of the Air" is openly critical of white racism in the segregated U.S. South of the 1940s. And several of the stories posit a nuclear war on Earth, with the penultimate story, "There Will Come Soft Rains," graphically portraying the wanton total destruction of life and negation of human science and achievement that such a war would entail. These features, however, do not add up to or prove a root-and-branch essential hostility to America and its values. (Bradbury is actually a product of a small-town America that he often evokes with an affectionate nostalgia that's obviously genuine.) The parallel between the fate of Bradbury's Martians and our Indians is real and historically grounded; you can't re-tell American frontier history without facing it --and at least here, the Martians die only of unintentionally-borne disease; they aren't victims of deliberate genocide. (It could also be questioned whether the portrayal of Martian attitudes is intended as glowingly positive --Yll, as his wife recognizes, is a cold-blooded xenophobe and murderer.) But the promise of the frontier as a place of new beginnings, new possibilities and a second chance is also evoked here; one could view that as a positive take on the meaning of the American experience. Criticism of the treatment by some Americans of blacks (who are also Americans) isn't in itself anti-American; it echoes the sentiment of the song "My Country, "Tis of Thee," where it says, "God mend thine every flaw." And to view nuclear war as immoral idiocy is not a position of disloyalty to America or American principles, unless we assume that mass genocide and mass suicide have always been intrinsic American ideals (they haven't). "Usher II" expresses a libertarian cultural attitude that's arguably quintessentially American; and "The Million-Year Picnic" brings a family of American nuclear war survivors to Mars as agents of a new beginning, where they finally have a chance "get it right."There are certainly merited criticisms that can be made of several of these stories. The only one with any religious message, "Fire Balloons," is simply a wooden preaching of the "gospel" according to Gnosticism: "salvation" through evolving away from icky physicality. (The apostles Paul and John, judging from their letters, would have puked over it. :-)) The conclusion (not the climax) of "Mars Is Heaven!" is supposed to be dramatically effective, but doesn't make sense in the context. IMO, the poorest story in the group is "The Silent Towns," which showcases the sexism of Bradbury's generation at its worst; it has no message, except ridicule of overweight females and an attempt to generate "humor" at their expense.Overall, though, I liked this collection; obviously, some stories are better than others, but I thought that most worked artistically. For me, Bradbury's style is a plus; it's lyrical and evocative, and full of appeals to all of the senses. My favorites in the group are "There Will Come Soft Rains" and "Way in the Middle of the Air," which I think are masterpieces. (Either would have been better selections for the Science Fiction Hall of Fame, IMO, than "Mars Is Heaven!").
"We earth men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things."The Martian Chronicles, a perfect example of what I'd call a 'quintessential Bradbury' - fragmentary, at times disjointed, occasionally crossing the line into the realm of surreal, full of his trademark nostalgia and sadness, this account of the failed American Dream approach to the exploration of the ultimate frontier never stops fascinating me and drawing me in with its inexplicable charm. (Side note: as a person of Russian descent, I reserve the right to run-on long-winded sentences in the best tradition of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky of which my literature-teacher mother clearly approves).It is such a multifaceted tale! It is a condemnation of the dear to the human heart way of 'exploration' and colonization - that is, coming to a place new to us and attempting to turn it into a carbon copy of 'home', of the place where we come from, of the place that gives us comfort - and all else be damned. It is an ode to the beauty of the strange and un-understood alienness. It is a criticism of the American Dream which was written in the heyday of this 'Dream'. It is a thinly veiled cautionary tale about the perils of science when misapplied. It is all of the above and none of the above, with everything masterfully interwoven to create a unique unforgettable reading experience.'Who wants to see the Future, who ever does? A man can face the Past, but to think - the pillars crumbled, you say? And the sea empty, and the canals dry, and the maidens dead, and the flowers withered?' The Martian was silent, but then he looked ahead. 'But there they are. I see them. Isn't that enough for me? They wait for me now, no matter what you say.'The story, for those who somehow are not familiar with it, is simple. In the far future of 1999, rocket ships from Earth start coming to Mars. The Martians - the enigmatic, serene, telepathic race - sense the disturbances. Eventually they die off, and the colonization in the American Dream style begins, until the nuclear war on Earth interferes. But the narrative is not quite this linear. It is made of separate, rather stand-alone short stories that often read as interludes, some straightforward, some surreal, but all of them quite haunting, memorable, and thought-provoking. Bradbury is (was, actually - I still can't believe he's dead) a master of writing peaceful, nostalgic sadness that feels upliftingly purifying. His writing is poetic and lyrical, often dreamlike, with almost a musical quality to it. He often straddles the line between cautionary and moralistic, but mostly succeeds at not crossing over to the unpleasantly preachy side. He is exceptionally good at writing amazing short fiction - since this is what this book essentially is, a collection of interlinked short stories. He manages to create a memorable, beautifully flowing, sophisticated story without a steadily progressing plot, without a main or even a major character, without even a consistent setting."Night are night for every year and every year, for no reason at all, the woman comes out and looks at the sky, her hands up, for a long moment, looking at the green burning of Earth, not knowing why she looks, and then she goes back and throws a stick on the fire, and the wind comes up and the dead sea goes on being dead." =================================Now, as an aside, I heard this book described as 'not really a science fiction book but a speculative fiction book' quite a few times, almost apologetically, as though science fiction is something to be ashamed of. I understand that this book is essentially a crossover phenomenon which appeals to sci-fi fans and 'general public' alike, and describing it as something else besides sci-fi can help generate a wider audience and a broader appeal. But hey, I realized that I don't want to be the person falling into this trap - the trap of dismissing sci-fi as something that is not literary enough, something of interior quality, something to be apologetic about. Bradbury, Le Guin, Miéville, Lem (insert your own favorite acclaimed sci-fi author here) are NOT great writers that...ahem...just happen to write sci-fi but maybe not quite really. They are excellent sci-fi writers, and that's how I recommend their books, even at the threat of losing potential audience. After all, Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles was not only one of the first books that I checked out of the 'adult' library, but also the book which cemented my love for science fiction, first fueled by Poul Anderson's Call Me Joe. The Martian Chronicles is an excellent book, the one that I will continue to re-read every few years or so. It deserves ALL the stars. "The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the rippling water."
What do You think about The Martian Chronicles (1984)?
Another one read for my Coursera SF/F class. As usual when I've just finished a book, I have no idea what I'm going to write my essay about, but I have one day left to figure it out...The thing that interests me most, I guess, is that Mars colonises the colonisers. In different ways in different vignettes, but it's there -- particularly in that last chapter/section. In a sense it feels like a recent book: the commentary on the spoiling of the world, and on colonisation; in others it feels so dated -- the treatment of people of colour, women, the obsession with nuclear war (which is still an issue, but not the same kind of deep-seated fear, I think)... The science itself (how long it might take to fly to Mars, being the obvious example) isn't really important to the story/themes: it's there as a backdrop, not at all used in the way H.G. Wells used science.As with most of Bradbury's work which I've come across so far, there are some gorgeous sections of prose here, and it's all very well crafted and easy to read, as you'd expect.
—Nikki
This book reads more like a series of short stories told in chronological order than it does a novel. Many of the chapters were so powerful and full of such brilliant ideas and insight. Not all, but enough to push this to a 5-star highly recommended level. There are ideas here that are going to be spinning around my head for months to come. Bradbury manages to cover a huge number of topics in rather a small book. What better platform for examining humanity than exploration to Mars? I can't list all the deepest points touched in this book without giving away spoilers, so pick it up and see for yourself. It's full of twists and turns, excitement and sorrow, you won't be sorry.
—Penny
The Martian Chronicles is like a magic trick: the more times I read it, the better it gets. It is wonderful, beautiful, moving, and heartbreaking unlike any other science fiction novel I’ve ever read, possibly any novel of any genre. Sure, it’s going on 60 years old. The technological inconsistencies with today’s world of space flight are a product of that. But, in short, it just doesn’t matter. Like all good novels, The Martian Chronicles aren’t about what the title and cover illustration show. The science fiction is just a medium Bradbury uses to reach something incredibly basic about human nature and our need to grow, expand, build and destroy. And yes, that destruction is usually self-centered. Perhaps it is the guilt that we feel about our own need for space. Perhaps it is the genuine anger we feel towards those who interrupt our manifest destiny. Perhaps it’s all a tug of war between the part of us that wants so terribly to be left alone and the part that would rather die than face loneliness. Either way, The Martian Chronicles are a testament of our human nature.The underlying theme between each individual episode of the Chronicles is our almost complete inability to deal with our differences. Even those who attempt to embrace the foreignness of Mars ultimately give it up for home again. No amount of human intervention or understanding can bridge the gap between the Martians and us, the aliens. Diplomacy fails, communication is nearly impossible; murder leads to genocide. And still their ghosts haunt us. Even within humanity, the gaps are too wide. We still murder each other, we still fight for power, for land, for cultural supremacy. Mars, the great equalizer, the modern American West, cannot make peace prevail.There is a somberness to this novel that I’ve felt very few other places. I think readers of Tolkien’s novella Smith of Wooton Major, or even Roverandom, will know what I’m talking about. Mars is a beautiful land, breathtaking, really. The Martian ruins (are they truly “ruins” at all?) have a pull that places on Earth do not. And yet, for all of its glory, it is a dead land. It is past its prime, and humanity will never be able to see Mars for what is was, or for what it should have been. Bardbury’s Mars is a place that I long to know, to see, just as other novels have characters that we long to meet and become friends with. Like Smith or Rover, I feel a real sense of sadness, bereavement all most, at leaving Mars forever. Bradbury makes us want to stay on Mars and experience it for ourselves. That, I believe, is something few writers accomplish. I feel sadness at leaving a fictional place and fictional characters behind. That is true talent.This is a keystone work of science fiction, of Bradbury’s work, and Americana. It cannot be passed up, for its cultural significance as well as literary. I cannot properly express my love for this book in words. The only way for me to explain it is to beg you to read The Martian Chronicles and feel it for yourself. I promise you, you will never look up at the sky in the same way again.
—Greg Heaney
