About book Ahmed And The Oblivion Machines: A Fable (1998)
Sometimes it’s an author’s greatest strengths that can lead them into trouble. Ray Bradbury, for instance, is one of the most prolific and poetic writers ever to grace the page, his prose often beautiful and flowing. But sometimes, as in the case of his childrens’ book AHMED AND THE OBLIVION MACHINES, that pretty prose can lead to a bunch of rambling about nothing that feels like a story at all.The jacket copy says AHMED is the story of “Ahmed, the twelve-year-old son of a caravan leader, falls from his camel, he is lost in a vast desert, and his situation looks ominous. Isolated and alone, the young boy begins to cry and his tears awaken the ancient god Gonn-Ben-allah, Keeper of the Ghosts of the Lost Names, who lies beneath the sand.”Okay, I got that part. Up to this point, the story was making perfect sense. But then, “[r]ising to full form for the first time in tens of thousands of years, the majestic Gonn tells his frightened savior that fate has brought them together. To comfort Ahmed, the god bestows the gift of flight upon the boy, and the pair sets off on an evening of spectacular adventures. Traveling through time and space, Gonn shows the fascinated Ahmed the wonders of the world--past and present--and its sorrows. Within each startling revelation, Ahmed finds wisdom--and learns to accept life for all it has to offer.”Yeah well, that’s not what I took away from the story at all. For example, the part where Gonn tells Ahmed that fate has brought them together?“There is reason, boy, why you stared and fell to print the dust and waken me. I have waited an eternity for you, the keeper of the skies, the inheritor of the dream, the one who flies without flying.”And Gonn-Ben-Allah moved his arms to touch the horizon.“The dream has stayed forever. Oh, the clouds, men have said. Oh, the stars and the wind that moves not stars but clouds. Oh, the storms that wander Earth to seize our breath. Oh, the lightnings we would borrow and hurricanes race. What jealous despair we lie with nights and angered, know not flight!”I’m sorry, what? Sounds to me more like Gonn just likes to ramble more than he likes to talk sense. The gist of the story felt, to me, like Bradbury was trying to write around the issue without actually setting down in his own mind first just what it was he wanted to say. So instead, he just prattled on for a while about some magical, mystical journey Ahmed is on, hoping the pretty words and confusing mental images would be enough to make the reader think they were in the presence of genius. And yes, Bradbury is a genius. But this story is not. It’s really just a bunch of hokum.“What is that?” cried Ahmed.“That,” said Gonn, “is the Enemy.”“IS there such a thing?”“One half of everything is the Enemy,” said Gonn. “Just as one half of everything is the Saviour, the bright rememberer of noon.”“And what is the name of that Enemy?”“Why, child, it is Time, and Time again.”“But, oh, mighty Gonn, does Time have a shape? I did not know you could SEE Time.”“Once it happens, yes. Time has shapes and shadows to be seen. That, on the rim of the world, is Time to Be. A remembrance forward of things that will be erased, destroyed, if you do not grapple with it, seize it, shape it with your soul, sound it with your voice. Then Time becomes the companion of light and ceases to exist as the enemy of dreams.”“It is so big,” said Ahmed, “I’m afraid.”“Yes,” said Gonn, “for it’s Time itself we fight, Time and the way the wind blows, Time and the way the sea moves to cover, hide, wipe away, erode, change. We fight to be born or not be born. The Unborn One is always there. If we can fire it with our souls, welcome it into living, it’s darkness will cease. I need you for that, boy, for your youngness is a strength, as your innocence is.“When I fail, you must win.“When I falter, you must race.“When I sleep, you must fix you eyes on the stars to learn their journeys. At dawn the stars will have left their celestial roads, their Kings highways as faint breaths printed in the air. Before the dawn erases it, you must print it in your mind to show the way!” Yeah, sorry, I’m not buying it. Just a bunch of pretty words that talk in circles to me.I picked up this book at the library because it was a Bradbury title I’d never heard of, and that just isn’t allowed, plus it was in the younger readers section and it looks pretty slim, so I figured I could zip through it in no time and have one more Bradbury under my belt. If I’d known how little sense the “plot” would make, or how rambling the prose was going to be, I doubt very much I would have bothered at all, even if it was a Bradbury I hadn’t read. After all, it only stands to reason that with an author with a bibliography as vast as Ray Bradbury’s, not everything’s going to be good. This was one of those instances.AHMED AND THE OBLIVION MACHINES is labeled “a fable” on the cover, but I don’t recall seeing a moral anywhere in here, and I’m pretty sure fables are supposed to have those. That figures, though; from start to finish this book felt to me like someone just trying to get the words down, hoping it all came together in the end. In this case, it didn’t. While I wanted so badly to like AHMED AND THE OBLIVION MACHINES, if not for the jacket copy, I doubt I would have been able to even tell you what this book was about, other than a kid gets lost from his caravan, wakes up an ancient god in the desert, and things get stupid and confusing from there. All that stuff earlier about “to comfort Ahmed, the god bestows the gift of flight upon the boy, and the pair sets off on an evening of spectacular adventures. Traveling through time and space, Gonn shows the fascinated Ahmed the wonders of the world--past and present--and its sorrows. Within each startling revelation, Ahmed finds wisdom--and learns to accept life for all it has to offer” . . . yeah, I didn’t get that at all.It’s not often in a mere 64-page book that I’m scanning ahead to see how many pages are left before I’m finished, but that was definitely the case with this one. Yeesh.
I found Ahmed and the Oblivion Machines sitting on a display honoring Ray Bradbury. I'd never heard of this one before and Robin over at the 52 Books in 52 Weeks Challenge gave us a mini-challenge to read something by Bradbury this month--in memory of one of the great writers. So into the library bag Ahmed went.It is the story of Ahmed, a young boy who stares at the stars a little too long one night as his father's caravan is crossing the desert. He falls from his camel and is lost in the desert. He is certain that he will die and begins weeping in sorrow. His tears awaken an ancient, forgotten god Gonn-Ben-Allah. Gonn-Ben-Allah takes the boy on an amazing journey through past and future to teach him wisdom and the power of dreams.This is a very short, lovely little fable about man's quest for flight--into the air and to the stars--by one of the 20th and 21st centuries' great wordsmiths. The language of Bradbury is a delight to read (and to hear--because the language echoes in your mind as you read). Bradbury was probably the first author who taught me what good writing was. I read his Martian Chronicles and The Illustrated Man long before I ever ventured on any of the standard classics of literature. Not that his books aren't classic--they are. His stories are timeless and his language takes the reader outside himself in the way that all good literature does.This is a lovely story for children of all ages with delightful illustrations by Chris Lane. One thing I did not get...the use of "Oblivion Machines" in the title. I'm not sure how oblivion machines = flying machines, or even if they're supposed to.... Three stars.This review was first posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting any portion. Thanks.
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Ahmed, a young boy, gets lost in a sand storm while trekking across the desert with his father's caravan. He stumbles on a gigantic buried statue, which his tears awaken. The statue is an ancient god, Gonn-Ben-Allah, Keeper of the Ghost of Lost Names. Gonn-Ben-Allah takes Ahmed through space and time, tracing the history of human efforts to fly (an analogy for the ability to imagine and invent). Bradbury is at his best when he describes past flyers who tried and failed; pterosaurs are called "boney kites" and a balloon is described "as ripe as a peach". There's also an aviator, a collector of butterflies who sewed up "a thousand small bright wings" a captivating image that attempts flight. Ahmed takes in all that Gonn-Ben-Allah shows him, and when the god "dies", Ahmed follows in the deity's footsteps, becoming a flyer himself.
—Nesa Sivagnanam
