Asimov's later Foundation novels appear to be about double the size of any of the novels in the original series, but that's neither here nor there because apparently size matters these days. Or at least in the 80s? No, now too. Anyway, this isn't going to be much of a review because I don't have much to say about this perfectly agreeable, minor note book. It details the lengthy learning experience that a youngish and rather persnickety Hari Seldon goes through on his way to creating psychohistory - which of course is the foundation of Foundation. He's on a world that is a lot like our world - lots of countries, lots of cultures, lots of assholes, lots of opportunites for education (and for knife fights, martial arts, secret robots, revolution, all the good stuff). There is at times a Vancean flavor to the strange yet strangely familiar portraits of insular, tunnel-visioned societies, minus Vance's sardonic distance and plus Asimov's warm humanism. This is a mild but also surprisingly horny book, but since the feel of the dialogue is distinctly old-fashioned, even stilted, that made me smile rather than gag. And there is a very positive, romantic ending, which I enjoyed. My robot heart loves seeing cute lil' humans display their love so forthrightly because mainly I see quite the opposite displayed!
a charming & cheeky About Me on the last page:
Isaac Asimov was born in the Soviet Union to his great surprise. He moved quickly to correct the situation. When his parents emigrated to the United States, Isaac (three years old at the time) stowed away in their baggage. He has been an American citizen since the age of eight.
Brought up in Brooklyn, and educated in its public schools, he eventually found his way to Columbia University and, over the protests of the school administration, managed to annex a series of degrees in chemistry, up to and including a Ph.D. He then infiltrated Boston University and climbed the academic ladder, ignoring all cries of outrage, until he found himself Professor of Biochemistry.
Meanwhile, at the age of nine, he found the love of his life (in the inanimate sense) when he discovered his first science-fiction magazine. By the time he was eleven, he began to write stories, and at eighteen, he actually worked up the nerve to submit one. It was rejected. After four long months of tribulations and suffering, he sold his first story and, thereafter, he never looked back.
In 1941, when he was twenty-one years old, he wrote the classic short story "Nightfall" and his future was assured. Shortly before that he had begun writing his robot stories, and shortly after that he had begun his Foundation series.
What was left except quantity? At the present time, he has published over 440 books, distributed through every major division of the Dewey system of library classification, and shows no signs of slowing up. He remains as youthful, as lively, and as lovable as ever, and grows more handsome with each year. You can be sure that this is so since he has written this little essay himself and his devotion to absolute objectivity is notorious.