The original meaning of the word 'cartoon' was more like a preliminary sketch. This book is something like a POSTliminary cartoon--an attempt to explain logically how people got in to the sort of situations we see them in in 'later' (though often written earlier) books. There's some effort at explanation, but not much. Why, for example, do the ships not have distress beacons? There's a later book in which contact with the Terran Empire is reestablished--but there's a lacuna of hundreds of years. Why? Did the chieri create a mental aversion to even THINKING about Darkover in the Empire? And if so, how did it fail?
Bradley tended to object to detailed critiques, but here's one--how did the Darkovans get horses? There're none (that I see) on the original ship. When they were tinkering with genotypes during the Ages of Chaos, did the Darkovans breed horses because they felt a need for such? And were the 'Darkovan' horses genetically compatible with off-planet horses?
The anti-'technology' bias among the Darkovans is not an opposition to technology per se; rather to mechanization. It's still not a particularly valid critique. It's somewhat explicable in the sense that the involuntary colonists CAN'T maintain the mechanisms they brought with them--but the distaste they later evince is at least partly due to the prejudices of the 'colonists'. Technology is everything from tableware to microchips--and there's no psychic merit to shoveling out a stable. The people who establish the (frankly
high-tech, though, granted, not mechanistic) civilization on Darkover are not, generally, the same people who have to till the fields--who, frankly, would mostly not have been averse to the odd tractor, however powered. When the soft-handed aristocrats are forced to put their hands to building walls (which is rarely), they roll up their sleeves, spit in their hands, grit their teeth, and do it...for a few days...IF they can't figure out a way to do it WITHOUT manual labor. Yet they presume to make the choice for others to refuse Terran technology.
Valid? Perhaps...to a degree...IF the Terran technology is, as presented, no different from the ad-hoc technology Bradley saw around her. It's highly unlikely that the Terrans could have made it to the stars without modifying the technology, and the attitude toward technology, that Bradley saw around her during the writing of most of the Darkover books. This is a critique of most 'anti-technology' writers, however, and not unique to Bradley.
All this is relevant to the whole series. There are specific critisims of this book. One simple one--where's the antimatter? The ship had a matter/antimatter drive. Unless they were manufacturing antimatter as they went (unlikely), there must be some aboard. It didn't escape (there'd have been a massive explosion, likely witn NO survivors). It must be contained somehow, let's hope securely. A half-(anti?)teaspoon of antimatter would solve the colonists' power problems for
generations--IF means could be found to confine and use it.
The argument whether the computer library should be maintained is disingenuous, though it's hard to say who's kidding whom. Do the highly educated ship's crew REALLY believe that future generations will be so wanting in critical capacity that they won't recognize that the archives were established by humans, and should be subject to critiques, exegesis, and alteration based on local conditions? Very few people even believe such things about religious dogma (as is pointed out in the book). So why do they distrust their descendants (and their own skills at teaching critical thinking) so much that they feel they have to emulate the Ch'in Emperor (who wanted scholarship to be believed to have started with his reign, and so persecuted, reassigned, and sometimes killed, Confucian scholars)?
The arguments about what happens to fertility in colonies is unsubstantiated, and is rendered untestable by arguing that it only occurs with differences in gravity, oxygen levels, etc. That it rarely happened on Earth (It's hard to say never, because records don't remain about what happened when humans first colonized areas, mostly), and when it did, happened only with extreme differences in altitude, etc, is fairly strong argument against it; but in context, it might have to be accepted. The idea, however, that you just have to let women miscarry, is absurd. 'Nature' (meaning, in context, human reproductive and immune systems) is not omniscient. It's not even very smart. 'Natural selection' is not involved. Traits that are selected against prenatally are rarely to never traits that would have long-term deleterious effects (especially in situations where the reproductive system becomes hypersensitive, as seems to be the case here)--but they very well MIGHT have long-term benefits in an unknown and unpredictable world. The starship population is small (less than three hundred), and is not viable if ANY genetic variation is lost. Maybe even if it isn't. The minimal input from the Chieri isn't likely to add that much variation. It comes from one or two individuals, at most.
The assertion that all sane women would want four children each, except in an overcrowded world begs the question: 'How did it become so overcrowded, if not that women were having four children each?' The supposedly benign, protective Earth that's described is frankly implausible. The engineering challenges alone are not even addressed. At present, nobody who climbs Chomolungma is able to spend more than about five minutes skyclad without almost immediately thereafter being immured in an oxygen tent--where are these people on the chairlifts, etc getting their air from?
There's another argument that's made tacitly, mostly. After the crash, the colonists and crew argue that there's no time for mourning. Later it's argued that there's no time for fantasy. There MUST be. At one point there's said to be a service for the dead planned--but WE never see it. And fantasy is an important part of coping mechanisms in critical situations. Perhaps even more so than in 'normal' situations. The idea that human imagination is not sufficient to explain why we've made it this far is one of the more bizarre products of that same imagination. We NEED to imagine our way into new solutions for problems--and exercises in imagination are often important teaching tools. Stories, rhymes, songs, counting games... Without these vital elements, survival is unlikely. A psychic ability to tell wholesome from poisonous food isn't enough--there needs to be a way to tell others.
It's more than a little odd that a starship crew would ever have HEARD of the term 'savages'. The term has been abandoned in technical literature for a long time, because a relatively non-judgemental technical meaning ('forest-dwellers') had come to have a pejorative connotation in general usage. Unfortunately, popular usage tends to lag behind technical changes--but by that much?
It's not clear what principles are used by the food synthesizers. What raw materials, for example? But the odd idea that agriculture is a 'natural', non-artificial survival strategy is an odd one. From what I can tell, it seems to have originated around the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution. Pretty generally, people before that understood that agriculture is almost entirely a product of artifice, and that 'nature' stood OUTSIDE the fields. Even the sort of low-tech horticulture being practiced here is one of the most high-tech activities in the impoverished desert island culture being established. Only inhabitants of a society that had turned almost completely to other means of producing food (?algae tanks?) could really believe (IF they examined the premise at all), that they were going 'back to nature' in any meaningful way.