|
|
|
By Sarah Jane Abbott
| Monday, August 11, 2014 - Off The Shelf
 It all begins with a chance encounter
between an unnamed narrator and an aging carnie whose skin is carefully
covered despite the hot weather. They sit companionably under a tree for a
while, until finally the stranger uncovers himself: Removing his shirt, he
reveals vivid, lifelike tattoos covering his entire body. But they aren’t
tattoos, he explains, they are Illustrations, given to him by a mysterious
old woman years before. He wears the Illustrations like the black mark of a
curse; he cannot keep a job or a home and is never able to stay among people
for long.
Pressed by the narrator, the Illustrated man explains that the old
crone was a witch and the Illustrations are magic—they come to life at night
and play out their small, frightening dramas on the canvas of his skin. Some
are violent, some sad, and all surround the one blank place on his back—a
place that will slowly resolve itself into a glimpse of the observer’s future
if one looks long enough. As the Illustrated man lays back under the stars
and tries to relax—he cannot sleep because he “can feel them, the pictures,
like ants, crawling on [his] skin”—the narrator watches as the eighteen
Illustrations tell their eighteen tales. These tales comprise Ray Bradbury’s The
Illustrated Man.
Bradbury is perhaps one of the most widely recognized and
celebrated American science fiction writers of all time. Best known for the
classic Fahrenheit 451, he is also the author of hundreds of short
stories. His body of work is luminous and transportive throughout, but my
favorite short story collection of his is The Illustrated Man. The
collection of eighteen stories is an ingenious frame narrative, connected by
the tragic and wondrous story of the titular character himself.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment