The Sands of Mars

"The Sands of Mars is Clarke’s first major novel – there’s Prelude to Space, but this is really his first. He had been writing science fiction stories since the end of the 1930s, so he was already well-established. In terms of the science fiction magazines, he was writing for New Worlds here in Britain; he was writing for the pulps, Astounding in particular; and for Startling Stories , and other magazines like that. So he was a well-known short story writer – but this is the novel that establishes the early perception of Clarke. The Sands of Mars is what Gary Westfahl calls a ‘cosmic engineer story’. We have a fledgling colony on Mars, established at some point towards the end of the 20th century. It’s primarily a scientific establishment, and they are slowly trying to make the place more habitable. Typically of Clarke, politically, we have a benevolent world state on Earth – again, echoes of Wells there. But the key thing is, scientists on Mars are carrying out covert projects in order to terraform the planet over a lengthy period of time. They’re doing two things. One is they’re growing vegetation plants, which will generate oxygen. Then the big secret is that they’re going to try and turn the moon of Phobos into an artificial sun. And they’re keeping this secret from the world state. So we’ve got an interesting thing here about Clarke: on the one hand, yes, there’s a benevolent world state – democratic institutions, yada, yada, yada. But at the same time, if you really want progress, then you have to have a kind of covert scientific elite doing it for themselves. There’s always this mistrust of governance – and a belief in the scientist, the ‘cosmic engineer’ to use Westfahl’s phrase, who is going to do something covertly but with good intentions. This is very much a non-Frankenstein view of science – the scientist is a benevolent figure. So it’s a terraforming story. The chief character is Martin Gibson, who is – surprise, surprise! – a science fiction writer, in an almost meta-fictional gesture. So we see the terraforming of Mars through the eyes of Gibson, a non-scientist, who can act as our witness, and our guide as well. I think that’s an interesting device. Clarke’s saying, yes, it’s the people who read science fiction who are on the right wavelength – we’re the guys who know what’s really around the corner, we know the true story of destiny and scientific progress. He’s bigging up the science fiction community. So Clarke not only offers a very optimistic vision of the future (albeit one that has to avoid politicians); at the same time he’s also ingratiating himself to the science fiction community. It’s a variation of the “fans are Slans” motto from Van Vogt’s novel about a superhuman, Slan . It gets your potential readership on side from the get-go. Yes, definitely, that’s key. It’s 1951 – so it’s around the same time The Eagle comic was being published, with Dan Dare, ‘pilot of the future.’ Clarke was a scientific adviser to The Eagle – he really got himself into all the tributaries of SF production and fandom. We’ve also got Charles Chilton’s Journey into Space on the Home Service; that’s about to start broadcasting. We’re a couple of years before The Quatermass Experiment on TV… So he’s very much part of that whole culture. He’s also one of the New Worlds writers. A group of writers met at the White Horse pub in New Fetter Lane: John Wyndham, John Christopher, E. C. Tubb, Ted Carnell and so on. There’s a coterie of writers who, in many respects, see themselves as preparing the future. There’s a very nice anecdote by Doris Lessing in her autobiography, where she met the White Horse writers. She thought they were these dull grey men, and then she realises – no, there was a highly sophisticated conversation that was happening in this pub in London!"