David Starr, Space Ranger; Lucky Starr and the Pirates of the Asteroids; Lucky Starr and the Oceans of Venus; Lucky Starr and the Big Sun of Mercury; Lucky Starr and the Moons of Jupiter; Lucky Starr and the Rings of Saturn; Asimov. Yes. Reading the introductions to these was a little like listening to the John Hughes commentary on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off: it seemed like Asimov hated (or at least wanted to apologize for) everything that made these books charming. Charming they were, nevertheless, though the latter three are somewhat less so as Asimov strove to render them indistinguishable from his other work.
Charming though they were, the former three could have used some editing attention. My favorite example, I think, was this:
There were four of them. The number increased as more men joined the group.
I also have to wonder whether, in a conversation set in the asteroid belt, when a character from the asteroid belt says “We’d have to take it to one of the rocks,” I can blame the editor for compelling “Anton turned to Lucky, explaining suavely, ‘We always refer to the asteroids as “rocks,” you understand.’” or only for leaving it in.
Very much of its time, the series has a simple optimism unlikely to be captured again:
In this age of Galactic civilization, with humanity spread through all the planets of all the stars in the Milky Way, only scientists could properly cope with mankind’s problems. In fact, only the specially trained scientists of the Council were adequate.
