Pandora's Legions (Mass Market Paperback)

That about sums up the character of the sole negative reviewer on this particular work. Christopher Anvil's short fiction written around the premise of an alien race luckless enough to "conquer" Earth (and finally collected here by Eric Flint), typifies the *Humanity Uber Alles* problem-solving science fiction beloved of John W. Campbell, who bought and published Anvil's stuff back in the '50s and '60s. More than any other single person, Campbell was responsible for the transformation of Gernsback's "super scientifiction" into the genre we know today, and neither the whining mamzers of the '60s "New Wave" (especially the soggy *New Worlds* dimwits like Moorcock who've been trying to pass off badly-written fantasy as if it were SF) nor the other proponents of "soft science fiction" have ever been able to appeal to the sort of people who read and enjoy the genuinely speculative fiction fostered by Campbell when he began his editorial career.

At a convention some years ago, I recall a neofan asking Jack Chalker how to write science fiction. Chalker paused for a moment, trying to get a grip on the neo's abysmal depth of ignorance, before replying: "Well, you've got to start reading it in 1952."

And that about sums up the fund of knowledge upon which our preceding reviewer predicates his opinion of this book. I'm willing to bet that if said putz were asked who Gernsback or Campbell were, he would either gape at you in bafflement or start waffling so vigorously that the air would be scented with maple syrup. Ghu knows what he'd make of queries about E.E. "Doc" Smith, or L. Sprague DeCamp, or any one of a round dozen top writers of the '30s, '40s, or '50s.

Though Anvil's *Pandora's Planet* is certainly dated, it offers an insight into the literary history of science fiction that only a damned fool could fail to recognize and value. On top of that, it's an entertaining read, certainly fulfilling Poul Anderson's old saw about "writing for beer money," in that the price of a paperback book is about the same as that of a six-pack of decent suds, and it's the author's obligation to provide the purchaser of his book with at least as much pleasure as might be derived from the aforementioned half-dozen cans of brew.

Anvil's work delivers that much at the very least.

Note: Looking up the writings of the late Poul Anderson is left as an exercise for the reviewer who came upon *Pandora's Planet* and failed to figure out how to get the pop-top open.

However, I had a lot of problems with the execution of the plot points. Logical or physical elements of the story were overlooked or simply 'waved away' by not discussing them. Space fleets arrived when they were needed, with no explanation of how long it takes to travel from one system to another; technology was presented as "anything is possible as long as someone thinks up to do it" with no explanation of the physics behind it. It was as though the author didn't want to be bothered, and simply said 'ok, assume this works'.

It isn't necessarily a bad thing -- the characters were primarily required to use their wits, and not their guns. But if you like your science fiction with a lot of realistic (or realistic-seeming) science, this book will probably frustrate or bore you.

IF you allow yourself to be fooled by the other two reviews AND you buy this book, DON'T allow your spouse/significan other to talk you out of getting your money back. And don't say that I didn't warn you!