Amazon.com Review
John Barnes writes hard SF with a heart; his speculations are always grounded in working things out from first principles, but he remembers to think also about how his imaginary situations might feel. "Gentleman Pervert, Out on a Spree," for example, starts with some speculation about tagging, and the speed with which an information age can make a marginal life worse--Ken is photographed curb-crawling and is then divorced and fired before he even gets home.
It moves, though, in unexpected directions--no excuses are made for Ken and his compulsions, yet we get to know and even love him like a deeply flawed younger brother. When Barnes writes of the fall of civilization to Christianity and/or barbarism, his rationalism does not rule out empathy for other ways of seeing--and there is a sense that armed conflict always involves collateral losses of more than just lives. The doomed soldier of "Advice to the Civilized" knows that in that regret lies the whole difference between civilization and barbarism. The stories come packaged with some nonfiction--Barnes writes well about building a world and his views on style and criticism; he writes inspirationally about education and his hopes for the future. --Roz Kaveney, Amazon.co.uk
From Publishers Weekly
In the dozen stories presented here, Barnes (Mother of Storms; A Million Open Doors) deals with social mechanization, nonhuman intelligence, extraterrestrials, the biology and politics of the far future and diverse extrapolations of modern science?the kind of SF that defines the genre for many readers. In an unusual fantasy piece he even analyzes goblin magic, quantifying the relation of pain and power. Not a few of the works are "trunk stories" and, strangely, Barnes, in brief introductions, variously apologizes or refuses to apologize for the deficiencies that made them unsalable. There are several cautionary tales about the mind-strangling tyranny of a future theocracy and some brave forays into sexuality, including a future therapy for sexual compulsive disorder and an instance of gay interspecies sex. That typical SF hazard, a daunting proportion of information to plot, creeps into several stories. But Barnes's canvas is often exhilaratingly broad; he can sketch the genesis and decline of planetary civilizations in three or four pages?and be funny at the same time. His classic essay, "How to Build a Future," is reprinted in these pages as well; it's a juggling act of rigorous number-crunching and the baldest guesswork. There are seven other short essays, too often smug, pompous even, and not so carefully reasoned, on topics ranging from pedagogy to genre criticism.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.