Friday, June 8, 2012

On Ray Bradbury

Earlier this week, legendary author Ray Bradbury passed away at the age of 92. Ever since I first read The Illustrated Man in junior high, I've revisted his stories time and again. While he penned a diverse body of work, including childhood nostalgia and detective stories, it's his science fiction that stands tallest. His prose, beautiful in its simplicity, warmly humanistic and always creative, mark him as one of the genre's titans.

Many eloquent writers have provided wonderful tributes to Bradbury (eg. here, here, here and here). Even President Obama had a few words. I'll thus restrict myself to listing my ten favorite Bradbury stories, with brief commentary and analysis.

10. The Veldt

Few authors write more insightfully about childhood than Bradbury. He captures better than anyone the simple joy of a childhood crush, a swim in the lake, a bowl of ice cream, a dazzling circus or movie. But there's a razor's edge underneath: stories like All Summer in a Day and The Playground shows the casual cruelty of children. In The Small Assassin and Zero Hour, they're unlikely conduits for evil; who would suspect a baby of murder?

One of Bradbury's most famous stories, The Veldt depicts a pair of spoiled children given an amazing room that simulates their innermost thoughts. When their parents grow disturbed by the violent images, they threaten to turn off the room - leaving the kids to plot revenge. In an era where children are practically raised by TV, iPhones and the Internet, it remains distressingly topical.

9. Mars Is Heaven

One of The Martian Chronicles, Mars is Heaven shows a team of Earth astronauts encountering a slice of Americana on the midst of Mars. More amazing still, they encounter what appear to be dead relatives amongst the townspeople. It all seems to good to be true - and of course, it is. Later sci-fi (Solyaris most notably) appropriated this scenario, but none so effective as Bradbury.

8. The Martian

One strand running through all of Bradbury's work is humanism: all of his characters are recognizable as people, with thoughts, fears, emotions and humanity. I suspect this is why Bradbury appeals where other sci-fi authors like Isaac Asimov leave me cold. Technical details and gadgetry generate bore me, just like history buffs with fetishistic love of hardware and uniforms. It's people who make stories interesting, not what they wear or kill people with.

The Martian is especially poignant. An Earth couple are visited by their dead son. Initially all is well until he's revealed as a shapeshifting Martian with a variety of guises. The sense of loss and tragedy in this story is poignant, both for the humans and the Martian himself: he becomes "an image reflected from ten thousand mirrors," losing his identity to the needs of his human pursuers.

7. The Long Rain

Bradbury's imagination goes into overdrive with this story. For sheer visual power, one can't top his description of Venus as "an immense catoon nightmare," everything bleached white by non-stop rain. More powerful still is the feeling of hopelessness, as a team of astronauts slowly goes mad (or worse) searching for shelter amidst the deluge. The ending seems happy enough but there's enough ambiguity to mute celebration. Even if the Sun Dome holds, it's still raining outside.

6. Dark They Were, And Golden-Eyed

An unsettling tale of colonization, where human colonists transform into Martians. This story is wonderfully atmospheric, with an unsettling, gradual feeling of dread that slowly engulfs the protagonist. The ending can't be called unhappy but it is disquieting on multiple levels. Above all, it shows that no matter what names we give a place, it retains its own power.

5. Fever Dream

Occasionally Bradbury eschewed philosophy for straight horror. Fever Dream is his best genre entry, of a child whose illness makes him something other than human. This one touches on every child squirm-point: unsympathetic adults, uncontrollable bodily changes and general helplessness. It's a slow-burning, low-key scare with a bone-chilling conclusion.

4. There Will Come Soft Rains

This simple tale shows a robotic house going about its business after its masters are killed in a nuclear war. This is Bradbury at his most affecting and poetic: "The house was an altar with ten thousand attendants... but the gods had gone away, the ritual of the religion continued senselessly, uselessly." Haunting, poignant and beautiful all at once.

3. The Concrete Mixer

The Concrete Mixer is a study in irony, with commercialism destroying a Martian invasion. This story is marked by the blackest of black humor, where Earth's greatest weapons against unstoppable invaders are soap, beer and hot dogs. "War is a bad thing," claims narrator Ettyl, "but peace can be a living horror." This cynical Martian knows humanity's diet of pulp fiction and sci-fi movies makes them invulnerable to attack. His proof? A sleazeball movie producer named Rick - just like the heroes from Thrilling Wonder Stories!

2. Drink Entire - Against the Madness of Crowds

This melancholy tale gains more resonance the older I grow. The protagonist misses a chance at eternal happiness through a moment of indecision, watching a friend achieve success in his place. Granted, contentment comes from a witch's potion; would that it were so simple! But being doomed to mediocrity is something all of us fear, and lingering over missed opportunities in love, business and happiness something everyone's experienced.

1. Pillar of Fire

Bradbury's greatest preoccupation is the sanctity of literature and imagination. Some of his best stories depict dystopian societies banning books. Fahrenheit 451 is the best-known example, but he returned to the topic time and again: The Fireman, The Exiles, Usher IIOn the Orient North. In this context, Bradbury lets go of his humanism, taking revenge on the oppressive monsters who destroy creativity and stifle thought.

Pillar of Fire provides Bradbury's darkest exploration of this theme. A corpse awakens in the future, where "impure" literature has been banned and bodies incinerated as unclean. Aghast, he decides to avenge his vanished society. His escalating series of crimes are disturbing, giving Bradbury a chance to engage in incredible imagery and savage prose. Bradbury takes his argument to an extreme, punishing society (rather than carefully-selected villains) for abetting apathy and censorship. I love Pillar for its sheer daring and nastiness; for my money, it's the best thing Bradbury ever wrote.

* * *

I'll conclude on a more uplifting note, with a selection from Kaleidoscope.  As an astronaut falls to his death, he ponders a last minute redemption:

"He fell swiftly, like a bullet, like a pebble, like an iron weight... objective of all time now, not sad or happy or anything, but only wishing he could do a good thing now that everything was gone, a good thing just for himself to know about.

When I hit the atmosphere, I'll burn like a meteor.

"I wonder," he said, "if anyone'll see me?"

The small boy on the country road looked up and screamed. "Look, Mom, look! A falling star." 

The blazing white star fell down the sky of dusk in Illinois.

"Make a wish," said his mother. "Make a wish."

RIP Ray Bradbury. For enabling so many of us to see the stars, to dream and remember, you certainly fulfilled your wish.

No comments:

Post a Comment