I fear blue-haired women, even when they come bearing gifts.
‘Reviews. I’m really not very good at them, unless I force myself to write with inhuman brevity. If, however, criticism is, in the words of America’s greatest writer (I’m sorry, the urge to troll was irresistible), “the elucidation of works of art and the correction of taste”, I probably ought to make an effort to do some taste-correcting from time to time.’
That, at least, is what I was thinking when my eye fell on the first volume of Starship Operators, recently released here, as it lay on the periphery of my desk. The periphery of my desk is, it would seem, a dangerous place to be.
Animanachronism 