It's strange, though. I took a glimpse into that book, and while it's very good indeed, quite poetic in some places, I find I can't rediscover the absolute awe I felt when I first read the Martian Chronicles in summer camp at the age of 13. Granted, it was in Hungarian translation, so it must have been a vastly different experience, but still...

And I've realized that Bradbury can be pretty depressing, too. Okay, I already knew that. But now I discovered that he's sometimes not that easy to follow, either.