Review: Lost Mars

Classic science fiction.

I’d like to describe this as good old-fashioned science fiction, but not only is that not quite true, but it’s probably an oxymoron, how can you have old-fashioned science fiction?  Although, ‘oxymoron’ is a word that would fit neatly into this collection of stories, possibly Martian terraformer worker slang to describe one who is profligate or unwise with their air supply on Mars.

‘Lost Mars’ is a collection of short stories about the red planet edited, very well, by Mike Ashley, beginning with a short story from H. G. wells published in 1897 and concluding with a shirt story from 1963 by J. G. Ballard.  This proves not just the enduring attraction of romantic fiction about the red planet, but that if you want to write science fiction, it does no harm at all to have two initials instead of a first name.

The stories are varied in style and tone, but there is a theme.  Fittingly for a collection of stories written and published many years ago, forgotten by some and presented here to be freshly discovered in this exceptional collection, many of the stories are about archaeology.  There seems to be an overwhelming belief, usually inspired by the popular scientific theories of the time, that although Mars might be a dead world, it was once host to an advanced civilization, now long gone, the legacy of which is there to be discovered.

This book really is a treasure, and every story is a gem.

The editor has also contributed in no small way to the reader’s enjoyment.  The introduction, so often the part of the book one flips past so as to not prejudice enjoyment or, worse, encounter spoilers, is a thoughtful and informative piece.  Each story comes with a very brief introduction.  The editor has a voice here, but he does not outstay his welcome.

The stories themselves are superb.  I found myself noting down the names of those science fiction writers that I was unfamiliar with, as based on the strength of their stories here, there are authors here that should make their way into any science fiction lovers’ To Be Read pile.  Science fiction fans always have a To Be read pile, as science fiction fans rarely leave any second hand bookshop without grasping a really lovely, if slightly foxed, paperback edition of a ‘classic’ possibly long out of print, the cover of which would now not be acceptable as a result of the MeToo movement.  You know the ones.

This, then, is one of those books that you make time to read, by not doing other stuff.  This is a ‘just another ten minutes’ short story collection.  This is the sort of short story collection where, after making the deal with yourself that you will stop at the end of this story, leads you to start the next one, just to enjoy the contrast.  Just another ten minutes.

It’s the classic case of a book you race through and regret finishing.

The collection tracks the trajectory of the development of thoughtful science fiction.  Although perhaps ‘development’ is not quite the word because the first story is just as good as the last.  The stories could be in any order, but it’s fascinating to read them chronologically.

Although you could be forgiven for flipping straight to the Bradbury as a visitor to an art gallery would go straight to the da Vinci, his story is, heresy alert, among equals here.

There’s a delightful H. G. Wells short story that, like all great science fiction, is much more about the human condition than the alien one, a charming oddity from a forgotten, except by those who know better, writer that’s effectively a postcard from the past, a fabulous repost to the Menace From Space genre, a great tale of prospecting in a harsh environment that just happens to be set on Mars, a corking tale of an expedition to Mars, and The Bradbury, which is the gateway to the modern era of tales which concludes the collection.

Finally, a word about the edition.  A tremendous front cover redolent of every science fiction magazine you ever held and loved as a child.

Recommended.