You can’t judge a book by it’s cover, I know, but it sure is hard to ignore that testicular head.

If you get passed it, though, you are in for a treat.

A genre story has an effect in mind, always. It is aimed at something. In a horror story, it is fear. In a cowboy story, it is a sense of adventure.

A science fiction story from the fifties wants your chin on the floor and Damon knight knew how to get it there.

His are stories of the kind published in Galaxy and Astounding, polished and structured. A lot of them are told like a joke, with the obligatory punchline. “Not with a bang”, is one. “To Serve Man.” Others go a lot deeper and use the outlandish to embody an emotional truth: “The Enemy”, “The Handler”.

Science fiction, by now, has become what it always proclaimed to be: a combination of scientific speculation, combined with domestic realism.

To me, that is a loss.

Because stories from the 50s are crazy, unpredictable, bizarre. You never now what you are getting into and it never takes too long.

Clearly, this is where Rod Serling (The Twilight Zone) did his shopping. ( )