I read this book because it was nominated for the Retro-Hugo Award. The last time I tried to read an E.E. Smith book I was so traumatized by the convoluted story and bad writing that I literally stopped reading fiction for several months. This time I managed to slog my way through to the end of the book. I know Smith is revered as a pioneer of science fiction, but his stuff just does not hold up to modern standards, if it ever did. The purple prose is so bad it leaks into the ultraviolet. Here’s the first paragraph:“Dominating twice a hundred square miles of campus, parade-ground, airport, and spaceport, a ninety-story edifice of chromium and glass sparkled dazzlingly in the bright sunlight of a June morning. This monumental pile was Wentworth Hall, in which the Tellurian candidates for the Lens of the Galactic Patrol live and move and have their being. One wing of its topmost floor seethed with tense activity, for that wing was the habitat of the lordly Five-Year Men, this was Graduation Day, and in a few minutes Class Five was due to report in Room A.”The whole book is written like this.Smith’s space cadet Kim Kinneson is the model of squeaky-clean superpowered whiteness that undoubtedly helped lead to the ostracization of science fiction by critics and the general public as nothing more than kiddie literature. There is nothing Kinneson can’t do, and then he develops mental powers which allow him to do things like control others and to see through walls. Early in the story, soon after graduating at the top of his class in the fascist-run space academy, Kinneson is given command of a new, experimental, class of battle spaceship to test out. The reason given? High command doesn’t want to lose any of its experienced officers if something goes wrong! And they don’t think putting a green lieutenant in charge won’t lead to disaster? (Which, of course, is exactly what happens.) Then Kinneson hops around the galaxy searching for the dreaded Helmuth, a 2-dimensional villain who controls a vast army of space pirates. The book ends abruptly when Helmuth is dispatched, with no denouement whatsoever.In addition to the poor writing, stereotypical characters, and implausible plot, Galactic Patrol is sexist, racist, and disturbingly homoerotic. I’ll give Smith his due in the history of science fiction as a major influencer, but there is really no reason to read his work in the 21st Century other than for its historical perspective.
You know, I really was beginning to think that there must've been a wholly different standard of judgement back when this series came out. I mean, Triplanetary was a mess, a decent mess, but a mess nevertheless. I couldn't even get into The First Lensman because it read like a mix of responses to criticism and a first draft of notes being converted into a novel. It just didn't work for me, though I am going to get back to it at some point now that I know not to give up.You see, supplicants, Galactic Patrol was everything I'd been led to believe this series was supposed to be. Actually it was a lot better than that. I think I was expecting John Carter of Mars, more or less, and, while there are similarities, this is a completely different kettle of fish. Space opera is a somewhat fuzzy concept, but I have no doubt in my mind that this book is not only a progenitor of the genre, but one of the best examples I've ever encountered. It has all kinds of spunk and verve. Not only does it have a paragon hero, a myth among men, but I liked him. I don't normally. His victory was nowhere near as easy as I'd expected and he kicked major ass to win. The plot was solid, the interweaving of events was, frankly, excellent, and the cool-factor was way up there. It's little things that made it work. Things like the ray-gun pistols being called DeLameters, for instance, gave a kind of reality to the books. Simply calling them ray-guns of zap-pistols or whatever generic term you want makes them all kind of a gray mass in the mind. But saying DeLameter makes them, somehow, more real. You can infer that there was a man, named DeLameter, who invented the guns. That's kind of awesome. It's like saying 9mm or magnum, or any of a dozen other terms instead of simply "pistol". It's a little thing, but it draws you in. I can honestly say that, by studying this book, I think I can improve my own understanding of the craft of writing. That's not always possible, but the relative simplicity of the novel makes it easier to pull apart, technically, than more complex novels.There's a lot of other things, too, which make the book "pop" for me, but I hope I've given you enough to want to go out and read the darn thing yourself. So go forth, supplicants, and read.
Do You like book Galactic Patrol (1998)?
Dreadful space opera trash - none the less, this book holds a special place in my heart because of the circumstances in which I read it. I discovered E.E. Doc Smith when I was 8 (this is the right age to appreciate him), and was so entranced that I brought Galactic Patrol with me to school so that I could read the exciting conclusion during morning break. A few days later, I was mortified to hear my teacher tell my parents how cute it was that "I was pretending to read this adult book that was obviously way past my reading level". Well, she clearly knew as much about me as she did about E.E. Doc Smith. Are you out there, third grade teacher? YOU WERE WRONG!
—Manny
Finally, a solid offering by Dr Smith. While technically the first book written in the series, when it was novelized, he rewrote some portions of Triplanetary, and added book 2 to join and tie the story elements of book 1 and 3 together. This is true space opera at its best, with massive battles, crazy technology, ever increasing stakes, and ultimately the entire galactic civilization at risk from Helmouth and his Boskoians. Especially great is the trope (was it a trope even back then?) of sliding scale of idealism vs cynicism, and how the civilization is presented in such an ideal light, even though, when looked at through the eyes of the pirates, could be perceived equally as "evil". Also, love the big bad boss pulling the puppet strings of the perceived big bad boss.
—William Rood
The granddaddy of all space operas, and, to my thinking, a much better place to dive into the series than book #1. (Books #1 and #2 were published later, and spoil some of the surprises in the remaining four; I think the series is much better read in publication order than in chronological order.)This isn't great literature that plumbs the depths of the human soul, but it sure is fun. It's from the 1930s and shows its age in a lot of places -- if you're looking for gender equality, you won't find it here, and some of the turns of phrase in the dialogue are almost comically old-fashioned -- but is way ahead of its time in others. The biggest flaw is that the main character is too perfect: nearly unbeatable in combat, a master military strategist, a capable technician, morally unassailable, and oh yes, with psychic superpowers too. Granted, the story acknowledges how unlikely he is and turns that fact into a plot point, but whether or not it's consistent with the universe of the novel, it still makes him harder to relate to as a character. That didn't bother me when I first read this as a kid, but it kind of stuck out this time around.But that's not the point. This is intended as a romp, not a story to take seriously, and it succeeds at that goal. And its influence on later science fiction is hard to deny; it's easy to recognize traces of "Lensman" in all sorts of later work, from Heinlein's novels to "Babylon 5." Definitely recommended reading for any SF fan who hasn't experienced it yet.
—Steven Grimm
