An interesting collection, but an inauspicious introduction to the writing of Stanisław Lem. I had heard Lem described as science fiction's answer to Jorge Luis Borges (who has quickly become one of my favourite writers), so I was determined to check him out.

The four short stories here, however, are not that impressive. They reminded me of almost childlike fables, but for an adult audience that might not exist for them: Aesop, if Aesop had a knowledge of chemistry and astrophysics. The first story, for example, sees three 'electroknights' named Brass, Iron and Quartz land on an alien planet, and these personified forms each interact with the environment in the way those materials might be expected to. This approach was intentional from the author – the stories originally come from a 1964 book called Fables for Robots – but it's with dubious success. Perhaps the reason I didn't warm to the stories is that Lem is not much of a stylist (at least from this admittedly limited evidence) and therefore his mind-benders are less palatable than those of Borges.

The closest Lem gets to success here is in the third story, 'King Globares and the Sages'. Here, the author plays with paradoxes and with metatextual content (one character is called 'Allegoric'); he cleverly showcases how, when expanded to the size of the universe, something can be considered "the highest compliment and the greatest insult" simultaneously (pg. 35). The same story also proposes Lem's rationale for his fables: "Science explains the world, but only Art can reconcile us to it. What do we really know about the origin of the Universe? A blank so wide can be filled with myths and legends" (pp35-6). There's a strange intelligence here, and I'm sure I'll try Lem again. But these slim Penguin Moderns ought to provide an enticing introduction into a writer's wider body of work, and I think in this instance that hasn't been the case. For many, this will prove a misfire. ( )

These four stories were the first I read by Lem, and I'm not sure what to think of these, really. They feel like fairy tales where the conventional trappings have been find-and-replaced with sfnal terminology, which is cute. Sometimes there's an original thought in there, sometimes they read like juveniles with facile pointes. But then again, they are ultra-short tales with almost no space for detail and elaboration. I'll hold off passing judgment on Lem until I've read some of his longer fiction. ( )