Ray Bradbury, Driving Blind (Avon Books, 1997)

Readers who pick up Ray Bradbury's Driving Blind expecting to see spaceships and Martians will be disappointed. Within these twenty-one stories is only one spaceship. The author of this book is not Ray Bradbury, Master of Science Fiction. This is just plain Bradbury doing what he does best: spelunking in his soul and showing us ourselves in the caverns and pools he finds there.

From Quint in "Driving Blind" finding wonder, excitement, and some deep human truth to Grandma raging against the machine in "Fee Fie Foe Fum," the author explores the spectrum of human experience. Along the way, he introduces us to a three-card monte dealer and the man who would expose the fraud ("Night Train to Babylon"); Mr. Mysterious, who lives inside a black velvet hood ("Driving Blind"), a man who wonders whatever happened to his old girlfriend and decides to find out ("I Wonder What's Become of Sally"); and many others. Those of us who have followed Bradbury on his journeys welcome the familiar hot, dusty feel of Mexico ("That Old Dog Lying in the Dust"), the rowdy ambience of Heeber Finn's pub and the good-natured insanity that issues therefrom ("A Woman is a Fast-Moving Picnic"), and the homey comfort of Green Town ("Driving Blind").

Many of the themes in Driving Blind are ones that long-time Bradbury readers will recognize. There are stories that explore how our childhood memories shape our adult selves, for good or ill ("Night Train to Babylon," "Someone in the Rain," "The Highest Branch on the Tree"). There are stories about romance and relationships ("Hello, I Must be Going," "Grand Theft," "I Wonder What's Become of Sally," "Virgin Resusitas," "That Bird That Comes Out of the Clock"). You will find stories about turning points in a child's real-world education ("House Divided," "Driving Blind"). There are also, of course, those stories that don't fit a neat category, stories that we have come to expect from Bradbury ("Remember Me?," "Fee Fie Foe Fum," "Nothing Changes," "Madame et Monsieur Shill," "The Mirror," "End of Summer," "Thunder in the Morning," "Mr. Pale").

Above all, Driving Blind is a consideration of a life, an only slightly nostalgic look back at lessons well-learned and people well-met. By showing us how his child became father to his man, Bradbury invites us to look into our own histories. His stories hold up a mirror; we have only to look.

Only one spaceship here, and no Martians. Just us plain, ordinary people. Just Ray Bradbury our faithful guide, revealing the wondrous and the macabre in all of us. As always, he does it with that sly smile, that nudge in the ribs, that wicked gleam in his eye that tells us it's OK, he understands. In "A Brief Afterword," Bradbury describes the genesis of this book as a drive through the country riding in a car with his blndfolded muse driving. That sense of "what's over the next hill?" and "what's around this corner?" comes through clearly. It is a wild ride, but definitely worth every word. Driving Blind is a must-read for those who revel in seeing the English language used as a magical instrument.

[Carter Nipper]