K eating the golden fruits that grew from the crystal walls, or clearing the house with handfuls of magnetic dust which, taking all dirt with it, blew away on the hot wind. They had a house of crystal pillars on the planet Mars by the edge of an empty sea, and every morning you could see Mrs. He can write the loveliest, most evocative scenes, and since he freely mixes fantasy, horror, and science fiction, he can also be haunting and eerie in a way I don't think his peers really touch. Heinlein may have been the best pure storyteller, and Asimov and Clarke the most skillful at executing Big Ideas, but Bradbury beats them all in pure prose-smithing. Here is my problem with Ray Bradbury: of all the Grand Old Masters of Science Fiction (or 'cranky old white guys,' if you prefer) - I think he is probably the best writer in terms of putting words together. Here are the captivating chronicles of man and Mars, the modern classic by the peerless Ray Bradbury.

The strange new world with its ancient, dying race and vast, red-gold deserts cast a spell on him, settled into his dreams, and changed him forever. Man conquered Mars - and in that instant, Mars conquered him. Seeking the promise of a new beginning, man brought with him his oldest fears and his deepest desires. Leaving behind a world on the brink of destruction, man came to the red planet and found the Martians waiting, dreamlike.

The martian chronicles book cover