4.5 Stars

Who would have thought that a book basically full of science fiction short stories written in 1951 would be a book I would gladly recommend to others? Seriously, it should be noted that this book ages remarkably well; I don't think you could find that many books that are 66 years old and don't particularly 'feel' that old when reading it.

This book's short stories are all loosely held together by the overall concept of the narrator meeting an 'Illustrated Man' whose tattoos move and tell a story if you look at them long enough. The book then goes straight into 18 different short stories, all of which are set in the future. Most of them include a little bit of futuristic technological advances and/or outer-space. I had to chuckle at one point when one of the stories mentions the year 2020 - that's only 3 years away now! I will say that I didn't particularly care for two of the stories, which were unfortunately back-to-back: The Exiles and No Particular Night or Morning. That is actually the only reason why I didn't give this five stars because otherwise I found each of the other stories to be well developed and intriguing.

This book in general is especially great to read if you are short on reading time, because each short story can be read separately with no overall plot to have to remember and keep track of. I'd definitely recommend giving this book a try even if sci-fi, short stories, and/or older novels aren't usually your thing. I think you'll be surprised at how much you'll enjoy this!

read this eons ago & still love it - short stories are so great - such a shame they don't get more support.

L'infanzia fa capolino

VIAGGI NEL TEMPO S.P.A. può fornirvi i costumi e darvi un posto in mezzo alla folla durante l'assassinio di Lincoln o di Cesare! Vi garantiamo l'insegnamento di tutte le lingue utili per il libero spostamento in qualsiasi anno e civiltà, senza imbarazzo. Latino, greco e americano colloquiale arcaico. Fate una vacanza nel tempo, oltre che nello spazio!

MARIONETTE S.P.A
Duplicate voi stessi o vostri amici; nuovi umanoidi in plastica modello 1990, garantiti contro ogni usura fisica. A partire da 7.600 dollari fino al modello deluxe a 15.000.

Profeta dell’eterna inclinazione umana all’autodistruzione; cantore assoluto del senso di meraviglia capace di valicare il limite ultimo che separa dal mistero, e sempre più in là in direzione di lidi sconosciuti: Bradbury non è scrittore di fantascienza, ma nostalgico testimone dell’animo umano.
Ogni racconto è un piccolo mondo a sé, che nasce e si estingue con la premura di lasciare in eredità un messaggio; e tale scambio avviene con un amore viscerale, quasi ingenuo, per le potenzialità del fantastico e le intrinseche sfaccettature che ora sconfinano nella fantascienza, ora scandagliano il quotidiano; il tutto filtrato con una sobrietà che rende l’esperienza di lettura adatta a chiunque.
Assieme a King, Buzzati e pochissimi altri, Bradbury ha contribuito a plasmare la persona che oggi scrive questa modesta opinione.

Il veldt ★★★★1/2
Caleidoscopio ★★★★★
Un nuovo inizio ★★★★1/2
L’autostrada ★★★
L’uomo ★★★★
La lunga pioggia ★★★★★
L’astronauta ★★★★★
Le sfere di fuoco ★★★1/2
L’ultima notte del mondo ★★★★★
Gli esiliati ★★★★1/2
Nessuna notte, nessun giorno ★★1/2
La volpe e la foresta ★★★★1/2
Il visitatore ★★★1/2
La betoniera ★★★★
Marionette S.P.A ★★★★★
La città ★★★★★
Ora zero ★★★★
Il razzo ★★★★★
Appendice
1) Usher II ★★★★★
2) Il parco giochi ★★★★1/2

O colecție destul de interesantă de povestiri publicate de Ray Bradbury în diverse reviste la începutul carierei sale. Mi-aș fi dorit să pună mai mult accent pe ideea omului ilustrat - un om acoperit de nenumărate tatuaje ce capătă viață în timpul nopții dezvăluindu-ți propriul viitor.

“I shall remain on Mars and read a book.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Illustrated Man



Ray Bradbury is forever connected to my youth. He is 180-proof literary, pulp, scifi nostalgia. I remember reading him for fun, reading him anthologized, reading him again and again. I permanently dented my aunt's couch one summer reading Vonnegut and Bradbury. I've recently returned to him as a father and an adult and get to re-establish connection to this great writer of American pop-lit. His stories (and books as well) are part of our modern psyche. He was the original rocket man. Not the first star in the night, but the one that tore a bit of the sky open for the rest.

There are no crappy stories here. He wrote about alienation, loneliness, jealousy, racism, and fear in new ways. He was light on scifi (it was a light frame) and heavy on characters, but he kept enough of the pulpy scifi tropes to make you almost unaware of the pill you were swallowing until it was completely absorbed.

Reading these reminded me how little I appreciated Bradbury's prose when I was young. I was a kid, so I was fixated on the story, the surprise, the horror. Now, I read these stories and I think DAMN Bradbury can write the pants off all but the best short story writers. He might not be Chekhov, but on his best days and with his best stories, he isn't far behind.

Stories:
1. The Veldt - ★★★★★
2. Kaleidescope - ★★★★★
3. The Other Foot- ★★★★
4. The Highway - ★★★
5. The Man - ★★★★
6. The Long Rain - ★★★★
7. The Rocket Man - ★★★★
8. The Last Night of the World - ★★★
9. The Exiles - ★★★★
10. No Particular Night or Evening - ★★★★★
11. The Fox and the Forest - ★★★★
12. The Visitor - ★★★★★
13. The Concrete Mixer - ★★★
14. Marionettes, Inc. - ★★★★★
15. The City - ★★★
16. Zero Hour - ★★★★★
17. The Rocket - ★★★★★
18. The Illustrated Man [story & frame] - ★★★★

Ray Bradbury is the only writer I can say with certainty has not so much changed my life as made it what it is. I'm scarcely the first or last to say that, and most definitely not the most important.

Neil Gaiman began his acknowledgement to Bradbury thus:

I can imagine all sorts of worlds and places, but I cannot imagine one without Ray Bradbury. Not Bradbury the man (I have met him. Each time I have spent any time with him I have been left the happier for it), but Bradbury the builder of dreams. The man who took an idea of the American Midwest and made it magical and tangible, who took his own childhood and all the people and things in it and used it to shape the world. The man who gave us a future to fear, one without stories, without books. The man who invented Hallowe’en in its modern incarnation. http://entertainment.timesonline.co.u...

The story, 'The Illustrated Man', title story of this collection, won a special place in my heart, full as it was of his stories. It made me write my first published poem, 'The Illustrated Man' - I couldn't think of a better title. It was only very recently, reading an interview with Bradbury in The Paris Review that I discovered this character was also part of what made his life what it is.

INTERVIEWER

Does literature, then, have any social obligation?

BRADBURY

Not a direct one. It has to be through reflection, through indirection. Nikos Kazantzakis says, “Live forever.” That’s his social obligation. The Saviors of God celebrates life in the world. Any great work does that for you. All of Dickens says live life at the top of your energy. Edgar Rice Burroughs never would have looked upon himself as a social mover and shaker with social obligations. But as it turns out—and I love to say it because it upsets everyone terribly—Burroughs is probably the most influential writer in the entire history of the world.

INTERVIEWER

Why do you think that?

BRADBURY

By giving romance and adventure to a whole generation of boys, Burroughs caused them to go out and decide to become special. That’s what we have to do for everyone, give the gift of life with our books. Say to a girl or boy at age ten, Hey, life is fun! Grow tall! I’ve talked to more biochemists and more astronomers and technologists in various fields, who, when they were ten years old, fell in love with John Carter and Tarzan and decided to become something romantic. Burroughs put us on the moon. All the technologists read Burroughs. I was once at Caltech with a whole bunch of scientists and they all admitted it. Two leading astronomers—one from Cornell, the other from Caltech—came out and said, Yeah, that’s why we became astronomers. We wanted to see Mars more closely.

I find this in most fields. The need for romance is constant, and again, it’s pooh-poohed by intellectuals. As a result they’re going to stunt their kids. You can’t kill a dream. Social obligation has to come from living with some sense of style, high adventure, and romance. It’s like my friend Mr. Electrico.

INTERVIEWER

That’s the character who makes a brief appearance in Something Wicked This Way Comes, right? And you’ve often spoken of a real-life Mr. Electrico, though no scholar has ever been able to confirm his existence. The story has taken on a kind of mythic stature—the director of the Center for Ray Bradbury Studies calls the search for Mr. Electrico the “Holy Grail” of Bradbury scholarship.

BRADBURY

Yes, but he was a real man. That was his real name. Circuses and carnivals were always passing through Illinois during my childhood and I was in love with their mystery. One autumn weekend in 1932, when I was twelve years old, the Dill Brothers Combined Shows came to town. One of the performers was Mr. Electrico. He sat in an electric chair. A stagehand pulled a switch and he was charged with fifty thousand volts of pure electricity. Lightning flashed in his eyes and his hair stood on end.

The next day, I had to go the funeral of one of my favorite uncles. Driving back from the graveyard with my family, I looked down the hill toward the shoreline of Lake Michigan and I saw the tents and the flags of the carnival and I said to my father, Stop the car. He said, What do you mean? And I said, I have to get out. My father was furious with me. He expected me to stay with the family to mourn, but I got out of the car anyway and I ran down the hill toward the carnival.

It didn’t occur to me at the time, but I was running away from death, wasn’t I? I was running toward life. And there was Mr. Electrico sitting on the platform out in front of the carnival and I didn’t know what to say. I was scared of making a fool of myself. I had a magic trick in my pocket, one of those little ball-and-vase tricks—a little container that had a ball in it that you make disappear and reappear—and I got that out and asked, Can you show me how to do this? It was the right thing to do. It made a contact. He knew he was talking to a young magician. He took it, showed me how to do it, gave it back to me, then he looked at my face and said, Would you like to meet those people in that tent over there? Those strange people? And I said, Yes sir, I would. So he led me over there and he hit the tent with his cane and said, Clean up your language! Clean up your language! He took me in, and the first person I met was the illustrated man. Isn’t that wonderful? The Illustrated Man! He called himself the tattooed man, but I changed his name later for my book. I also met the strong man, the fat lady, the trapeze people, the dwarf, and the skeleton. They all became characters.

Mr. Electrico was a beautiful man, see, because he knew that he had a little weird kid there who was twelve years old and wanted lots of things. We walked along the shore of Lake Michigan and he treated me like a grown-up. I talked my big philosophies and he talked his little ones. Then we went out and sat on the dunes near the lake and all of a sudden he leaned over and said, I’m glad you’re back in my life. I said, What do you mean? I don’t know you. He said, You were my best friend outside of Paris in 1918. You were wounded in the Ardennes and you died in my arms there. I’m glad you’re back in the world. You have a different face, a different name, but the soul shining out of your face is the same as my friend. Welcome back.

Now why did he say that? Explain that to me, why? Maybe he had a dead son, maybe he had no sons, maybe he was lonely, maybe he was an ironical jokester. Who knows? It could be that he saw the intensity with which I live. Every once in a while at a book signing I see young boys and girls who are so full of fire that it shines out of their face and you pay more attention to that. Maybe that’s what attracted him.

When I left the carnival that day I stood by the carousel and I watched the horses running around and around to the music of “Beautiful Ohio,” and I cried. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I knew something important had happened to me that day because of Mr. Electrico. I felt changed. He gave me importance, immortality, a mystical gift. My life was turned around completely. It makes me cold all over to think about it, but I went home and within days I started to write. I’ve never stopped.

Seventy-seven years ago, and I’ve remembered it perfectly. I went back and saw him that night. He sat in the chair with his sword, they pulled the switch, and his hair stood up. He reached out with his sword and touched everyone in the front row, boys and girls, men and women, with the electricity that sizzled from the sword. When he came to me, he touched me on the brow, and on the nose, and on the chin, and he said to me, in a whisper, “Live forever.” And I decided to.

Ideas. The thing Bradbury brings to the world of writing but which literature scorns. Like all this books this one is full of them. Please read, as an example, 'The Veldt' http://www.veddma.com/veddma/Veldt.htm

It is a terrifying picture of a world in which automation and machines take over. Children become addicted to their entertainment in a way which makes them kill rather than accept losing it. Who hasn't seen the idea of this all around us? The kids may not kill, they generally wield enough power to be able to bully parents into what they want. Not so long ago, I observed some kids being told to leave their mobile phones at home while they went to the pictures, and refusing to do so; and then, a day or two later, a family at dinner in a restaurant, both kids glued to the screens they had brought with them, Bradbury's ideas so often turn from fantasy into fact. Amazing.

Bradbury siendo excelente como siempre, muchos de los cuentos se encuentran en el epítome de la creatividad...en cuanto escriba la reseña daré un aleluya a los mejores.

I stumbled across this short story collection when searching for horror literature online. However, the stories in "The Illustrated Man" are not straight up horror; they're more like sci-fi stories and predictions on what life will look like 50-100 years from its publication date.
The narrative frame of the stories goes like this: A man, covered in tattoos, tells another man that he stumbles across to not look too deeply at his tattoos because they all tell stories that come true. Needless to say, the other man can't help watching and that's when the narration begins.
I very much felt like Ray Bradbury had a way too pessimistic view on the future. Basically, we are all going to destroy Earth and each other, or at least only bad things will happen such as us burning all books dealing with horror or killing each other in nuclear wars.
That being said, I did find some of the stories very interesting - especially the ones that deal with religion. Bradbury has some interesting ideas that got me curious, and as is the case with most short story collections, I loved some stories whereas others didn't really speak to me.

Character on the Stillwater tour bus in the film Almost Famous reading it reminded me that I had read in my youth and recall liking it a heck of a lot. How come I never read Fahrenheit 451?

Segundo intento de colgar la mini review. Antes se me ha quedado colgado y se me ha borrado todo, hasta el libro de la estantería, cagoentó....

Una colección variopinta de relatos, todos con muy buena calidad. Las historias se me han hecho cortas y muchas me han sabido a poco, cosa que es muy buena señal.




Mis preferidos:
La pradera: Me dejó muy mal cuerpo, esos niños tan creepys
Caleidoscopio: Sentí mucha angustia
El hombre del cohete: Una historia muy conmovedora y triste
La última noche del mundo: Muy corta pero que dice mucho
El zorro y el bosque: Es que me encantan los viajes en el tiempo
Marionetas S.A.: Una idea genial, es el relato que más he disfrutado
La ciudad: bastante terrorífica y otra idea genial y retorcida
La hora cero: Bufff, más niños creepys
El cohete: Relato precioso, me recordó a la película de la vida es bella

I did not really like this book for some reason. It started off great, but the similar themes of space travel and living on other planets got tired really fast. Most of the stories revolve around living on rockets, on Mars, or remembering how it was to live on Earth that has either ceased to exist or was destroyed by the people who inhabit it.

I like Ray Bradbury and some of the stories in this collection of short stories, but a lot of them were not interesting to me. I will probably read more of his books as I do like him and his style of writing.

Ray Bradbury è meraviglia e poesia in poche pagine.

Per i titoli italiani mi rifaccio a quelli di questa edizione, ma hanno subito vari cambiamenti nel tempo.

La savana
(The Veldt) 3★
Caleidoscopio
(Kaleidoscope) 5★ + lacrime
Un nuovo inizio
(The other foot) 3★
L'autostrada
(The Highway) 4★
L'uomo
(The Man) 4★
La lunga pioggia
(Death-by-rain) 5★
L'astronauta
(The Rocket Man) 5★
Palloncini di fuoco
(The Fire Balloons) 3★
L'ultima notte del mondo
(The last night of the world) 4★
Gli esiliati
(The exiles) 3★
Una notte o un mattino qualunque
(No particular Night or Morning) 3★
La volpe e la foresta
(The fox and the Forest) 3★
Il visitatore
(The Visitor) 5★
La betoniera
(The concrete mixer) 4★
Marionette S.p.a
(Marionettes, Inc.) 3★
La città
(The City) 3★
Ora Zero
(Zero Hour) 3★
Il razzo
(Outcast of the stars) 4★ + tanta dolcezza