Not Asimov, me! At least that’s what my friends call me when I say anything critical about his work. Nothing makes an Asimovite, Asimovian, whatever, more rabid that to mention Issac Asimov in anything less than glowing terms. OK, he was a really good writer. Not great, just really good. In fact, I can think of five writers from the same period that were better: Theodore Sturgeon, A.C. Clark, Cyril Kornbluth, Alfred Bester, and Poul Anderson. Sure, he came up with the Robot laws, the positronic brain, and his “epic” Foundation series, which should have ended with the first Foundation, and he did use plausible science. However, his characters were lacking, especially the women. Maybe that was because he was a virgin until he was thirty. I think that could be explained by those pork chop sideburns, and the birth control glasses he wore. His attempt to be original often caused him to go off on tangents that left me with the feeling he was bored and uninspired.
Sorry about that, this isn’t suppose to be a personal attack.
Later in life he did a series of “Asimov Presents” books. I used these for toilet paper. I mean, I know he didn’t write this crap. He did approve it though. Hence, the “presents” part of the title. Stories with aliens that are described as looking like a “slab of bacon” hardly inspire empathy. They ramble and stumble like a drunk on New Years Eve. What Rubbish!
Sorry about that, this isn’t suppose to be a personal attack. Wait a minute! Didn’t I just do the obligatory apology one paragraph up.
Issac Asimov was an intelligent, thoughtful, kind man. But he sure wasn’t a Scifi God!
Gnostic Science Fiction 