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Men, Martians and Machines
The "Marathon," an interstellar spaceship, and her crew encounter numerous adventures as they visit planets throughout the universe
216 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1955
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327 people want to read
About the author
Eric Frank Russell
396 books114 followersEric Frank Russell was a British author best known for his science fiction novels and short stories. Much of his work was first published in the United States, in John W. Campbell's Astounding Science Fiction and other pulp magazines. Russell also wrote horror fiction for Weird Tales, and non-fiction articles on Fortean topics. A few of his stories were published under pseudonyms, of which Duncan H. Munro was used most often.
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April 22, 2020
Adventure and thrills in the far distant future when mankind journeys through outer space. This is science fiction from the Golden Age.
Rescued by a robot. While off course and heading too close to the sun Jay Score is the only crewman who can pilot the ship to safety.
Our sanctuary was more than a mere refrigerator; it was the strongest and coolest section of the vessel, a heavily armoured, triple shielded compartment holding the instrument lockers, two sick bays and a large lounge for the benefit of space-nauseated passengers.
All were present excepting McNulty and Jay Score. The skipper appeared two hours later. Things must have been raw up front, for he looked terrible. His haggard face was beaded and glossy, his once-plump cheeks sunken and blistered. His usually spruce, well-fitting uniform hung upon him sloppily. It needed only one glance to tell that he'd had a darned good roasting, as much as he could stand.
No use enlarging upon the horror of that time. I think I went slightly nuts. I was a hog in an oven, being roasted alive. It's the only time I've ever thought the Sun ought to be extinguished for keeps. Soon afterward I became incapable of any thought at all.
First contact with metallic aliens gets off to a bad start. The men want to talk - the aliens want to fight.
Alien monstrosities surged full pelt into the airlock as perforce we turned to face this assault from a new direction. The pom-pom gunner stuck to his post and—ignoring what was taking place behind his back—concentrated on shooting a clear way through the outer door-gap. But via the mutilated stern, the passages and catwalks, a metallic zoo poured upon us.
The next two minutes fled like two seconds. I saw a wheeled globe whirl into the room, followed by a nightmarish assortment of metal things, some with jointed legs and pincer-armed front limbs, some with tentacles, some with a grotesque assortment of outlandish tools.
A grabbing pincer glowed red-hot and seized-up at the hinge when a well-aimed needle-ray found its weak spot. But its coffin-shaped owner pressed on as if nothing had happened, its projecting lenses staring glassily. In the hazy throw-back from the searchlight I saw Wilson burn away a lens-collar and deprive it of an eye before it snatched him up and held him.
The pom-pom suddenly ceased its rabid yammering and fell onto its side. Something cold, hard and slippery coiled around my waist, lifted me bodily. I went over backward through the lock, borne high in the unrelenting grip of my captor. I saw a many-tooled object grab the skipper's struggling form and bear him from the fray in like manner.
My last view of the melee showed a wildly gesticulating metal globe apparently floating toward the ceiling. It was fighting at the end of a thick, sucker-surfaced rope that would not let it go. McNulty and his captor blotted out the rest, but I guessed that one of the Martians had stuck himself to the roof and was blandly fishing in the mob below.
Back in the Golden Age of action packed science fiction no one bothered to check for danger. They just walked out of the ship and into the green forest. . .
Becoming tired of the rock, the escapees picked themselves a supply of round pebbles from among the growths, moved toward a big bush growing fifty yards from the Marathon's stern. The farther away they went, the greater the likelihood of them being spotted from the skipper's lair, but they didn't care a hoot. They knew McNulty couldn't do much more than lecture them and enter it in the log disguised as a severe reprimand.
This bush stood between twelve and fifteen feet high, had a very thick mass of bright green foliage at the top of a thin, willowy trunk. One of the pair approached it a couple of yards ahead of the other, flung a pebble at the bush, struck it fair and square in the middle of the foliage. What happened next was so swift that we had difficulty in following it.
The pebble crashed amid the leaves. The entire bush whipped over backwards as if its trunk were a steel spring. A trio of tiny creatures fell out at the limit of the arc, dropped from sight into herbage below. The bush whipped forward in a return swipe and then stood precisely as before, undisturbed except for a minute quivering in its topmost branches.
But the one who'd flung the stone now lay flat on his face. His companion, three or four paces behind, had stopped and was gaping like one petrified by the utterly unexpected.
Marvel with wonder at the adventures of these brave men, martians and the robot.
Eric Frank Russell went on to write more science fiction of a deeper nature, but it is his supremely daring acts in the middle of unknown dangers that make him a memorial writer.
Enjoy!
Rescued by a robot. While off course and heading too close to the sun Jay Score is the only crewman who can pilot the ship to safety.
Our sanctuary was more than a mere refrigerator; it was the strongest and coolest section of the vessel, a heavily armoured, triple shielded compartment holding the instrument lockers, two sick bays and a large lounge for the benefit of space-nauseated passengers.
All were present excepting McNulty and Jay Score. The skipper appeared two hours later. Things must have been raw up front, for he looked terrible. His haggard face was beaded and glossy, his once-plump cheeks sunken and blistered. His usually spruce, well-fitting uniform hung upon him sloppily. It needed only one glance to tell that he'd had a darned good roasting, as much as he could stand.
No use enlarging upon the horror of that time. I think I went slightly nuts. I was a hog in an oven, being roasted alive. It's the only time I've ever thought the Sun ought to be extinguished for keeps. Soon afterward I became incapable of any thought at all.
First contact with metallic aliens gets off to a bad start. The men want to talk - the aliens want to fight.
Alien monstrosities surged full pelt into the airlock as perforce we turned to face this assault from a new direction. The pom-pom gunner stuck to his post and—ignoring what was taking place behind his back—concentrated on shooting a clear way through the outer door-gap. But via the mutilated stern, the passages and catwalks, a metallic zoo poured upon us.
The next two minutes fled like two seconds. I saw a wheeled globe whirl into the room, followed by a nightmarish assortment of metal things, some with jointed legs and pincer-armed front limbs, some with tentacles, some with a grotesque assortment of outlandish tools.
A grabbing pincer glowed red-hot and seized-up at the hinge when a well-aimed needle-ray found its weak spot. But its coffin-shaped owner pressed on as if nothing had happened, its projecting lenses staring glassily. In the hazy throw-back from the searchlight I saw Wilson burn away a lens-collar and deprive it of an eye before it snatched him up and held him.
The pom-pom suddenly ceased its rabid yammering and fell onto its side. Something cold, hard and slippery coiled around my waist, lifted me bodily. I went over backward through the lock, borne high in the unrelenting grip of my captor. I saw a many-tooled object grab the skipper's struggling form and bear him from the fray in like manner.
My last view of the melee showed a wildly gesticulating metal globe apparently floating toward the ceiling. It was fighting at the end of a thick, sucker-surfaced rope that would not let it go. McNulty and his captor blotted out the rest, but I guessed that one of the Martians had stuck himself to the roof and was blandly fishing in the mob below.
Back in the Golden Age of action packed science fiction no one bothered to check for danger. They just walked out of the ship and into the green forest. . .
Becoming tired of the rock, the escapees picked themselves a supply of round pebbles from among the growths, moved toward a big bush growing fifty yards from the Marathon's stern. The farther away they went, the greater the likelihood of them being spotted from the skipper's lair, but they didn't care a hoot. They knew McNulty couldn't do much more than lecture them and enter it in the log disguised as a severe reprimand.
This bush stood between twelve and fifteen feet high, had a very thick mass of bright green foliage at the top of a thin, willowy trunk. One of the pair approached it a couple of yards ahead of the other, flung a pebble at the bush, struck it fair and square in the middle of the foliage. What happened next was so swift that we had difficulty in following it.
The pebble crashed amid the leaves. The entire bush whipped over backwards as if its trunk were a steel spring. A trio of tiny creatures fell out at the limit of the arc, dropped from sight into herbage below. The bush whipped forward in a return swipe and then stood precisely as before, undisturbed except for a minute quivering in its topmost branches.
But the one who'd flung the stone now lay flat on his face. His companion, three or four paces behind, had stopped and was gaping like one petrified by the utterly unexpected.
Marvel with wonder at the adventures of these brave men, martians and the robot.
Eric Frank Russell went on to write more science fiction of a deeper nature, but it is his supremely daring acts in the middle of unknown dangers that make him a memorial writer.
Enjoy!
April 21, 2015
More than four decades before Capt. Jean-Luc Picard and his mixed crew of Earthlings, aliens and android made their initial appearance in "Star Trek: The Next Generation," English author Eric Frank Russell was charming readers with his tales of a similarly composed starship crew. Russell (1905 – '78) had been a contributor to John W. Campbell's seminal "Astounding Science-Fiction" magazine since 1937, when it was simply called "Astounding Stories" (Campbell would, years later, name Russell as his favorite science fiction author, which is quite a statement, considering all the many great writers whom editor Campbell fostered during the genre's Golden Age!), and in 1941 contributed the first of four stories that would ultimately be collected into the volume appropriately titled "Men, Martians and Machines." The collection was initially released in the U.K. in 1955 (the same year that Russell won the first Hugo Award for a Short Story, his hilarious "Allamagoosa") and in the U.S. three years after that. The collection is comprised of one (truly classic) short story and three novella-length pieces, all narrated by the same sergeant-at-arms, whose name is never given to us, and all marked by fast-moving action, great imagination, and a slangy, wisecracking style (no wonder so many readers back then thought the British author an American!).
The collection kicks off in a big way with that classic, oft-anthologized short story, "Jay Score" (from the 5/41 issue of "ASF"), in which Capt. McNulty and his crew of the Upskadaska City (aka the Upsydaisy) are put in peril when their ship, on a routine Earth-to-Venus run, is hit by a meteor, severely damaged, and begins an out-of-control plummet into the sun. The story introduces us to some of the crew, including the google-eyed, 10-tentacled, chess-loving Martians, and deftly mixes humor and suspense with nary a wasted word, culminating in one of the finest surprise endings a reader could ever hope to come across.
In "Mechanistria" ("ASF," 1/42), Capt. McNulty and most of his crew are back, but now they have been given a new ship, the Marathon, which, with its revolutionary Flettner drive system (think: warp drive), will enable mankind to explore the outer solar systems for the very first time. And what a doozy they pick as their first world to investigate: a planet in the region of Bootes, populated by nothing but dozens of species of mechanical devices with an overriding desire to dissect and analyze animal life! The crew of the Marathon surely has their hands (and tentacles) full, getting out of this scrape!
In "Symbiotica" ("ASF," 10/43), our bickering, bantering heroes are back again, this time exploring a planet in the neighborhood of Rigel. Once again, trouble arises, when the green-skinned natives there capture the Marathon's exploratory party and bring its members deep into the deadly forest. This story dishes out lethal trees, giant snakes and other nasty flora and fauna, building to one impressive battle royal.
Finally, in "Mesmerica" (written especially for the 1955 book release), the crew faces its most frightening menace yet upon landing on an unknown planet in the region of Cassiopoeia: "repulsive objects resembling tangled masses of thick, black, greasy rope" that can induce hypnotic hallucinations in their victims (a power similar to that of the Talosians in the classic "Star Trek" episode "The Menagerie"). Thus, without knowing what is real and what is mirage, our sergeant and his mates attempt to rescue some of their kidnapped fellows, in this extremely freaky/borderline scary Marathon outing.
In "Men, Martians and Machines," the universe, it would seem, is a very hostile place. In the collection's last three tales, the crew members are attacked for no especial reason--be it by robots, trees or mesmerists--and are forced to simply kick ass in their own defense. And yes, it IS ultimately thrilling to watch our heroes use their needle-ray guns, pom-pom blasters and "mini A-bombs" (A-bombs four years prior to 1945?!?!) to wreak havoc among their foes, despite being constrained by something called the Transcosmic Code (think: the noninterference Prime Directive). Still, it must be argued that all this carnage IS wrought in self-defense, and that Russell is actually very modern and PC in his treatment of the mixed crew, amongst whom the squabbling Earthlings and the Martians are shown to be very much brothers and comrades-in-arms. In a further demonstration of his modern-day sensibilities, Russell gives us a starship doctor who is a black man (how radical this must have seemed in 1941!) and even has McNulty say, of the robot crewman (whose name I will not reveal here, for reasons of my own), "[he’s] a lot more than a machine...he’s a person" (this, around 45 years before Picard pleaded Data's rights as a human, in the episode entitled "The Measure of a Man"). The book keeps the reader in suspense by incorporating a respectable body count--there is no way to tell which crewman will be killed in any of the missions--at the same time that it keeps the reader in stitches. This is a VERY funny batch of stories, I must say; not for nothing did Brian Aldiss, in his sci-fi history "Billion Year Spree," refer to Russell as "Campbell’s licensed jester." Much of the humor here comes from our sergeant's snappy patter, atrocious puns, tough-guy talk and eternal wisecracking; thus, his remark that the meteor was "ambling along at the speed of pssst!"; his comparing the Symbiotica residents to "transcosmic Zulus"; and his Mickey Spillane-like "the potent ray carried straight...and roasted the guts of a bawling, gesticulating native." But those zany Martian characters easily win the prize for Russell's funniest characters in this book, whether they are arguing about chess moves during the heat of battle or making derogatory comments about the "too thick" atmosphere on Earth by making swimming motions with their tentacles. What wonderful characters they are, and yet, as is shown time and again, what formidable opponents in a fray!
"Men, Martians and Machines" is assuredly a splendid entertainment, although it does come with a few slight problems. Russell never gives us explanations for his world occupied solely by machines, nor does he go into any sort of depth regarding the symbiosis between natives and flora in that third story. He makes up his own words on occasion (such as "Taking his mike, Steve hoarsed into it." Hoarsed?!?!), uses an ungrammatical expression here and there (such as "the alien sextet weren't there," instead of "wasn't"), is guilty of an occasional flub (the mesmerist village is originally said to be on the shore of a lake; later, it is said to be on the shore of a river), and dates his second story badly by comparing the soulless automatons to the Japanese (this WAS written in late 1941, remember). Still, I found the collection a real hoot; longtime Trekkers (such as myself, if you couldn’t already tell!) will most likely give it an extra star or two. In the wonderful collection "The Best of Eric Frank Russell," Alan Dean Foster tells us that Russell once wrote, in typically amusing fashion, that his ambition was "to entertain so many readers so well that some may have a momentary regret when they bury [me]." But he needn't have worried about the entertainment quotient in "Men, Martians and Machines," that’s for sure!
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website, an excellent destination for all fans of Golden Age sci-fi: http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ .)
The collection kicks off in a big way with that classic, oft-anthologized short story, "Jay Score" (from the 5/41 issue of "ASF"), in which Capt. McNulty and his crew of the Upskadaska City (aka the Upsydaisy) are put in peril when their ship, on a routine Earth-to-Venus run, is hit by a meteor, severely damaged, and begins an out-of-control plummet into the sun. The story introduces us to some of the crew, including the google-eyed, 10-tentacled, chess-loving Martians, and deftly mixes humor and suspense with nary a wasted word, culminating in one of the finest surprise endings a reader could ever hope to come across.
In "Mechanistria" ("ASF," 1/42), Capt. McNulty and most of his crew are back, but now they have been given a new ship, the Marathon, which, with its revolutionary Flettner drive system (think: warp drive), will enable mankind to explore the outer solar systems for the very first time. And what a doozy they pick as their first world to investigate: a planet in the region of Bootes, populated by nothing but dozens of species of mechanical devices with an overriding desire to dissect and analyze animal life! The crew of the Marathon surely has their hands (and tentacles) full, getting out of this scrape!
In "Symbiotica" ("ASF," 10/43), our bickering, bantering heroes are back again, this time exploring a planet in the neighborhood of Rigel. Once again, trouble arises, when the green-skinned natives there capture the Marathon's exploratory party and bring its members deep into the deadly forest. This story dishes out lethal trees, giant snakes and other nasty flora and fauna, building to one impressive battle royal.
Finally, in "Mesmerica" (written especially for the 1955 book release), the crew faces its most frightening menace yet upon landing on an unknown planet in the region of Cassiopoeia: "repulsive objects resembling tangled masses of thick, black, greasy rope" that can induce hypnotic hallucinations in their victims (a power similar to that of the Talosians in the classic "Star Trek" episode "The Menagerie"). Thus, without knowing what is real and what is mirage, our sergeant and his mates attempt to rescue some of their kidnapped fellows, in this extremely freaky/borderline scary Marathon outing.
In "Men, Martians and Machines," the universe, it would seem, is a very hostile place. In the collection's last three tales, the crew members are attacked for no especial reason--be it by robots, trees or mesmerists--and are forced to simply kick ass in their own defense. And yes, it IS ultimately thrilling to watch our heroes use their needle-ray guns, pom-pom blasters and "mini A-bombs" (A-bombs four years prior to 1945?!?!) to wreak havoc among their foes, despite being constrained by something called the Transcosmic Code (think: the noninterference Prime Directive). Still, it must be argued that all this carnage IS wrought in self-defense, and that Russell is actually very modern and PC in his treatment of the mixed crew, amongst whom the squabbling Earthlings and the Martians are shown to be very much brothers and comrades-in-arms. In a further demonstration of his modern-day sensibilities, Russell gives us a starship doctor who is a black man (how radical this must have seemed in 1941!) and even has McNulty say, of the robot crewman (whose name I will not reveal here, for reasons of my own), "[he’s] a lot more than a machine...he’s a person" (this, around 45 years before Picard pleaded Data's rights as a human, in the episode entitled "The Measure of a Man"). The book keeps the reader in suspense by incorporating a respectable body count--there is no way to tell which crewman will be killed in any of the missions--at the same time that it keeps the reader in stitches. This is a VERY funny batch of stories, I must say; not for nothing did Brian Aldiss, in his sci-fi history "Billion Year Spree," refer to Russell as "Campbell’s licensed jester." Much of the humor here comes from our sergeant's snappy patter, atrocious puns, tough-guy talk and eternal wisecracking; thus, his remark that the meteor was "ambling along at the speed of pssst!"; his comparing the Symbiotica residents to "transcosmic Zulus"; and his Mickey Spillane-like "the potent ray carried straight...and roasted the guts of a bawling, gesticulating native." But those zany Martian characters easily win the prize for Russell's funniest characters in this book, whether they are arguing about chess moves during the heat of battle or making derogatory comments about the "too thick" atmosphere on Earth by making swimming motions with their tentacles. What wonderful characters they are, and yet, as is shown time and again, what formidable opponents in a fray!
"Men, Martians and Machines" is assuredly a splendid entertainment, although it does come with a few slight problems. Russell never gives us explanations for his world occupied solely by machines, nor does he go into any sort of depth regarding the symbiosis between natives and flora in that third story. He makes up his own words on occasion (such as "Taking his mike, Steve hoarsed into it." Hoarsed?!?!), uses an ungrammatical expression here and there (such as "the alien sextet weren't there," instead of "wasn't"), is guilty of an occasional flub (the mesmerist village is originally said to be on the shore of a lake; later, it is said to be on the shore of a river), and dates his second story badly by comparing the soulless automatons to the Japanese (this WAS written in late 1941, remember). Still, I found the collection a real hoot; longtime Trekkers (such as myself, if you couldn’t already tell!) will most likely give it an extra star or two. In the wonderful collection "The Best of Eric Frank Russell," Alan Dean Foster tells us that Russell once wrote, in typically amusing fashion, that his ambition was "to entertain so many readers so well that some may have a momentary regret when they bury [me]." But he needn't have worried about the entertainment quotient in "Men, Martians and Machines," that’s for sure!
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website, an excellent destination for all fans of Golden Age sci-fi: http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ .)
August 11, 2021
Men, Martians and Machines is a fix-up novel of four stories that are told by an unnamed sergeant-at-arms of the interstellar exploratory ship Marathon, which is crewed by an interesting assortment of Terrans, robots, and chess-loving Martians. It's a very clever and well-written early forerunner of Star Trek, with a nice blend of humor, drama, and boldly-going-where-no-man-has-gone-before. Three of the stories were published in John W. Campbell's Astounding Science Fiction magazine during the Second World War (including lead-off classic Jay Score), and the fourth initially appeared in the first book publication in 1955. Fine stuff; my 1965 Berkley edition has a striking Paul Lehr cover.
November 20, 2011
Collection of humorous linked short stories originally published between 1941 & 1955:
Jay Score 4.5/5
Mechanistria 5/5
Symbiotica 5/5
Mesmerica 5/5
Jay Score 4.5/5
Mechanistria 5/5
Symbiotica 5/5
Mesmerica 5/5
May 29, 2019
This is a collection of four short stories by one of the greats of classic science fiction, Eric Frank Russell. These stories can be read as stand-alone but they also tie into one another to make a novel of sorts. While maybe not as well known as Asimov, Clarke, or Heinlein, Russell is considered by his contemporaries to be one of the best. The great John W. Campbell once said that Russell was his favorite science fiction writer. Eric Frank Russell wrote stories about racism, big government and the ecology not just years but decades before it became fashionable. Although couched in the form of science fiction his message about these subjects was clear. I will not try to review all of these stories, but I will say they are definitely worth the time it takes to read them. If you like the stories or even if you don't you should give his novels a try. My favorite is "WASP". I hope you enjoy his work as much as I do.
December 15, 2016
One of the earliest SciFi books (short stories) that totally knocked me out. I still remember most of the stories from all those years ago when I can't remember where I put my freaking keys.
July 17, 2014
This is a group of stories that revolves around the same captain and crew sent out to planets to investigate. While not Eric Frank Russell's best work, I really enjoyed it. Lot of action and smart ass comments between the crew (men and martians), as well as peril visiting each planet. Russell was a master of the short story and well worth a read, even if some parts are a bit dated.
February 3, 2026
I was lucky that my Uncle Lou gifted me the entire Classics of Modern Science Fiction in HC with their great covers and introductions by Isaac Asimov. I remember the first sci-fi book I read in the 5th grade. ( It was Witch World by Andre Norton, yes I thought she was a man and years later that gave me a chuckle).
Eric Frank Russell the author who wrote these stories in the 1950s is not well known. That is unfair in my opinion. You see his influence on the whole Star Trek franchise. This book is based on stories of a Space crew aboard a space ship with humans, Martians, robots, klingons?..
He was ahead of his time. Men, Martians and Machines should be read by every sci-fi enthusiast. The first short story to begin this space opera, Jay Score is one of my favorite. I can remember ( 20 years ago mind you), reading the last line where it is revealed that Jay Score was a robot. ( I wondered why he volunteered so quickly to an obvious death sentence), It gave me a chuckle and just re-reading it was such a treat. This whole series ( all the volumes are highly collectable and relatively cheap on Ebay), should be read by everyone. I know some people will think the writing is dated, but it's like watching The Honeymooners, you know the stories, they are dated, but you will watch them over and over again. These are short stories and novella. Treat yourself to some good sci-fi and pick up all the volumes, they are all good. Respectfully, Thomas.
Eric Frank Russell the author who wrote these stories in the 1950s is not well known. That is unfair in my opinion. You see his influence on the whole Star Trek franchise. This book is based on stories of a Space crew aboard a space ship with humans, Martians, robots, klingons?..
He was ahead of his time. Men, Martians and Machines should be read by every sci-fi enthusiast. The first short story to begin this space opera, Jay Score is one of my favorite. I can remember ( 20 years ago mind you), reading the last line where it is revealed that Jay Score was a robot. ( I wondered why he volunteered so quickly to an obvious death sentence), It gave me a chuckle and just re-reading it was such a treat. This whole series ( all the volumes are highly collectable and relatively cheap on Ebay), should be read by everyone. I know some people will think the writing is dated, but it's like watching The Honeymooners, you know the stories, they are dated, but you will watch them over and over again. These are short stories and novella. Treat yourself to some good sci-fi and pick up all the volumes, they are all good. Respectfully, Thomas.
March 22, 2010
Russell is a bit of a hack. That was what authors had to do to sell in those days. But even hack work is 10 dB better than 0.99 of what is getting written today. This is what science fiction is all about: unbelievable plots, syndrome themes, new ideas that challenge the intelligence, and characters who show Halseyś dictum in action. If youŕe tired of the artificially sweetened soda pop that is contemporary science fiction this is lesser distillery single malt neat!
May 6, 2017
Told through the voice of the sergeant-of-arms, this book tells the story of a crew of astronauts who voyage to different planets that the powers-that-be decide may hold native life and be a possible home to human life. Naturally, there's not a single woman present throughout the whole book. Still and all, Eric Frank Russell is an author I hold dear to my heart for his short story "Dear Devil." Entertaining and a funny read.
August 10, 2011
Want to go to a strange bunch of worlds with strange people and other beings? Try this. Unusual. ERIC FRANK RUSSELL does it again.
April 24, 2021
Doesn't stand the test of time. It's repetitive, disrespectful and unimaginative science fiction from the not so golden age of SF.
As mentioned in other reviews, the conception resembles a series of Star Trek episodes. Each episode, a mixed crew is send to another planet to explore the habitat.
Things start going south with Russell's definition of a mixed crew. Whites because they are good at technology. Blacks because they don't get space nausea. Martians (!) because they use very little air, are fairly immune to cosmic ray-burn and with their tentacles are formidable fighters. No women. I could live with this as a representation of the time the book was written.
But this definition is a foreshadowing of Russell's narrow-minded imagination. Each planet visitation follows the same structure of exploration, making first contact, getting attacked, finding ways to fight back and finally abscond back to Earth. A banal plot repeated four times and the author's ideas for the different alien lifeforms can't rescue this wreck of a spaceship.
One note: I read the German translation which probably is an abridged version of the book.
As mentioned in other reviews, the conception resembles a series of Star Trek episodes. Each episode, a mixed crew is send to another planet to explore the habitat.
Things start going south with Russell's definition of a mixed crew. Whites because they are good at technology. Blacks because they don't get space nausea. Martians (!) because they use very little air, are fairly immune to cosmic ray-burn and with their tentacles are formidable fighters. No women. I could live with this as a representation of the time the book was written.
But this definition is a foreshadowing of Russell's narrow-minded imagination. Each planet visitation follows the same structure of exploration, making first contact, getting attacked, finding ways to fight back and finally abscond back to Earth. A banal plot repeated four times and the author's ideas for the different alien lifeforms can't rescue this wreck of a spaceship.
One note: I read the German translation which probably is an abridged version of the book.
January 7, 2021
A fix-up novel in which Russell’s characteristic humour is tempered in favour of fully realised SF space opera. Few who’ve read these four interlocked novelettes/novellas will ever forget their mixed-species crew, nor the ingeniously bellicose alien environments that Russell conjures for exploration.
February 20, 2019
Another Real Gem of Classical SF
Another beautiful piece of vintage Eric Frank Russell. I first read it as a ten year old in 1958, and three of the four stories were quite old (first published 1940-42) even then. Yet they have aged surprisingly well.
The technical purist in me winces a little at the thought of a spaceship keeping its rockets burning all the way to Venus (where on/off earth do they keep all the fuel?) and falling into the Sun if the engines break down, but that was about par for 1940 sf. And Russell surely makes up for it in having a negro as his Ship's Surgeon, even if he does feel obliged to offer a biological justification for this. I don't know if Sam Hignett was the first Black sf character, but there can't have been many before him. This is great for the period.
MM&M is a sort of halfway house between a short story collection and a novel. We keep the same set of characters throughout, but the four sections can be read separately, as indeed the first three were published separately for magazines. The first and shortest, "Jay Score" , is a simple disaster in space yarn, though with a lovely twist at the end which I have no intention of revealing, and serves mainly to introduce us to the cast. The rest of the book is divided between three voyages of exploration, to the planets Mechanistria, Symbiotica and Mesmerica. The titles hint at the nature of the problems encountered by our intrepid heroes, as they meet malevolent aliens who attack them by methods mechanical, biological and psychological respectively.
But by no means all the aliens shown are malevolent. The Martians of the title are both friendly and resourceful, and in two of the stories, the human characters might well have perished without them. Again, a very advanced attitude to "race relations" for the time of publication.
All in all, a great read. My main gripe about MM&M (as about Russell's later book, "The Great Explosion") is that there simply isn't enough of it. I should have loved to follow the "Marathon" on a dozen voyages into the unknown, rather than three. Still, I shall be forever grateful for what there is. I also get mildly niggled at the liberties some publishers take with the text. Why on earth change the Marathon's Pinnace into a "Shuttlecraft"? Were they worried that some reviewers might be suffering from "pinnace envy" or something? Still, not too important. Enjoy
Another beautiful piece of vintage Eric Frank Russell. I first read it as a ten year old in 1958, and three of the four stories were quite old (first published 1940-42) even then. Yet they have aged surprisingly well.
The technical purist in me winces a little at the thought of a spaceship keeping its rockets burning all the way to Venus (where on/off earth do they keep all the fuel?) and falling into the Sun if the engines break down, but that was about par for 1940 sf. And Russell surely makes up for it in having a negro as his Ship's Surgeon, even if he does feel obliged to offer a biological justification for this. I don't know if Sam Hignett was the first Black sf character, but there can't have been many before him. This is great for the period.
MM&M is a sort of halfway house between a short story collection and a novel. We keep the same set of characters throughout, but the four sections can be read separately, as indeed the first three were published separately for magazines. The first and shortest, "Jay Score" , is a simple disaster in space yarn, though with a lovely twist at the end which I have no intention of revealing, and serves mainly to introduce us to the cast. The rest of the book is divided between three voyages of exploration, to the planets Mechanistria, Symbiotica and Mesmerica. The titles hint at the nature of the problems encountered by our intrepid heroes, as they meet malevolent aliens who attack them by methods mechanical, biological and psychological respectively.
But by no means all the aliens shown are malevolent. The Martians of the title are both friendly and resourceful, and in two of the stories, the human characters might well have perished without them. Again, a very advanced attitude to "race relations" for the time of publication.
All in all, a great read. My main gripe about MM&M (as about Russell's later book, "The Great Explosion") is that there simply isn't enough of it. I should have loved to follow the "Marathon" on a dozen voyages into the unknown, rather than three. Still, I shall be forever grateful for what there is. I also get mildly niggled at the liberties some publishers take with the text. Why on earth change the Marathon's Pinnace into a "Shuttlecraft"? Were they worried that some reviewers might be suffering from "pinnace envy" or something? Still, not too important. Enjoy
March 14, 2025
7/10
cheerily crafted '40s tales of early space exploration by one of early sf's well respected english authors. This series of short stories was classic fodder for the sf mags of the 40s and 50s, packed with blokey, army slap talk, almost American in tone.
The '40s slang does make for stuttery reading, but this is remarkably fun and witty at a time when sf could be quite dry and predictable. The mixed Martian / human exploration team is very enjoyable, as the chess-loving martians constantly complain about the thickness of various atmospheres and the nasty smell of humans.
Each tale is a quick trip to a distant planet, using Flettner Drive technology. There are needle ray guns and lots of bombs get dropped on alien settlements that do little other than try to protect themselves, which did become tiresome.
It's all very macho men-at-work stuff, with plenty of lightweight banter amid dropships and living quarters, but I do think I'm going off older sci-fi like this and just searching out the more offbeat stuff like Roadside Picnic and The Wanderer for 'normal' writers' takes on the genre.
I do have Russell's Next of Kin and Wasp in the pile, but I yearned for a good Ramsay Campbell or a comforting fantasy while reading all of this slightly mono-dimensional sci-fi. Sure it was of its time and refreshingly humourous compared to so much dirge of this era, but I wonder if my sci-fi days are numbered. Hey ho, on to Pawn of Prophecy!
cheerily crafted '40s tales of early space exploration by one of early sf's well respected english authors. This series of short stories was classic fodder for the sf mags of the 40s and 50s, packed with blokey, army slap talk, almost American in tone.
The '40s slang does make for stuttery reading, but this is remarkably fun and witty at a time when sf could be quite dry and predictable. The mixed Martian / human exploration team is very enjoyable, as the chess-loving martians constantly complain about the thickness of various atmospheres and the nasty smell of humans.
Each tale is a quick trip to a distant planet, using Flettner Drive technology. There are needle ray guns and lots of bombs get dropped on alien settlements that do little other than try to protect themselves, which did become tiresome.
It's all very macho men-at-work stuff, with plenty of lightweight banter amid dropships and living quarters, but I do think I'm going off older sci-fi like this and just searching out the more offbeat stuff like Roadside Picnic and The Wanderer for 'normal' writers' takes on the genre.
I do have Russell's Next of Kin and Wasp in the pile, but I yearned for a good Ramsay Campbell or a comforting fantasy while reading all of this slightly mono-dimensional sci-fi. Sure it was of its time and refreshingly humourous compared to so much dirge of this era, but I wonder if my sci-fi days are numbered. Hey ho, on to Pawn of Prophecy!
April 16, 2015
More than four decades before Capt. Jean-Luc Picard and his mixed crew of Earthlings, aliens and android made their initial appearance in Star Trek: The Next Generation, English author Eric Frank Russell was charming readers with his tales of a similarly composed starship crew. Russell (1905 – ’78) had been a contributor to John W. Campbell’s seminal Astounding Science-Fiction magazine since 1937, when it was simply called Astounding Stories (Campbell would, years later, name Russell as his favorite science fiction author, which is quite a statement, considering all the many great writers whom editor Campbell fostered during the genre’s Golden Age!), and in 1941 contributed the first of four stories that would ultimately be collected into the volume appropriately titled Men, Martians and Machines. The collection was init... Read More: http://www.fantasyliterature.com/revi...
June 1, 2008
A set of four adventures from the rough-and-tumble crew of the Marathon -- a brand new spaceship capable of flying off to distant planets and checking out the life there. In no case is the life really all that friendly, and half the fun is following the crew of humans and Martians as they fall prey to, and mostly escape, a series of alien encounters. Oh and Martians are giant octopus kinds of beings that love to play chess and make snarky comments about how humans smell bad. Excellent 1940s/50s sci-fi.
October 5, 2023
This collection of connected stories came out in 1958, but the individual stories predate that even, coming out separately in pulp sci-fi magazines over a period of time – I don’t know how long that period was, but the first one came out in 1941. No surprise then that it shows its age a bit – some of the science can definitely be challenged, and even the writing and story plots hint strongly at the pulp fiction origin. Influential in its way, Star Trek borrowed heavily from the basic premise of the book.
April 7, 2013
I'm a fan of older science fiction (30s-60s)but not this group of four short stories by Eric Frank Russell. It was a struggle to get through these stories. The stories are narrated by the Space Ship Marathon's XO as they visit newly discovered planets which are all hostile to the crew of the ship. I would not recommend anyone reading this book. It has a classic cover and that is it's only positive feature.
August 4, 2024
're read this from my youth. Very optimistic book unlike today's dystopian stuff
March 23, 2021
Zoals alle boeken van Eric Frank Russell, die ik tot hiertoe gelezen heb, is het scifi van de bovenste plank. Vreemde werelden met planten, dieren en mensenachtigen die zich vreemd en/of vijandig gedragen en een bemanning van ontdekkingsreizigers die vooral aan het eigen gemak denken en heel wat minder aan grote idealen. Dat geeft een humoristische mix met een scherp realistisch en soms erg dramatisch randje. De dood reist mee maar krijgt zijn plaats in het normale proces van alledag dat we het leven van de ontdekkingsreiziger/ruimtevaarder noemen.
In het eerste stuk maken we kennis met een aantal van de hoofdpersonen (menselijk, martiaans of androïd in 1 geval) en krijgen we meteen een bloedstollend avontuur te verwerken.
Dan komen nog enkele verkenningsvluchten naar 3 totaal verschillende planeten die elk een eigen gevaar betekenen voor een First Contact situatie die alle andere First Contacts haast belachelijk maakt en aantoont dat het allemaal zo gemakkelijk niet is, ondanks alle goede voornemens.
Een absolute topper die ondanks zijn leeftijd nog niets van zijn waarde verloren heeft. Voor iedereen die houdt van avontuurlijke scifi op vreemde planeten met een flinke dosis humor.
In het eerste stuk maken we kennis met een aantal van de hoofdpersonen (menselijk, martiaans of androïd in 1 geval) en krijgen we meteen een bloedstollend avontuur te verwerken.
Dan komen nog enkele verkenningsvluchten naar 3 totaal verschillende planeten die elk een eigen gevaar betekenen voor een First Contact situatie die alle andere First Contacts haast belachelijk maakt en aantoont dat het allemaal zo gemakkelijk niet is, ondanks alle goede voornemens.
Een absolute topper die ondanks zijn leeftijd nog niets van zijn waarde verloren heeft. Voor iedereen die houdt van avontuurlijke scifi op vreemde planeten met een flinke dosis humor.
May 1, 2021
This is a novel I'd recommend for anyone that is a Star Trek fan in some capacity. Russell wrote the novel in 1955 and it was published in 1958 before the orginal series ever started and as George Zebrowski mentions in the introduction of the re-print of the 80's of this novel, it clearly had an influence on Star Trek. Because in this story it is the Transcosmic Federation that sends out spaceships in search of new worlds to explore. Also the crew that serves on the ship consists of a mixture of humans, Martians and an android of sorts called Jay Score. (Reminiscient of Data in The Next Generation). The novel is also fun to read and divided into basically three parts as the crew sets out to explore three planets they haven't been to before to see what kind of life those planets have. If you are into Star Trek, I suggest you do yourself a favour and read this novel as it is truly the classic that it sets out to be!
August 31, 2024
A decade before Star Trek there were the extra-solar voyages of the Marathon. It's a shame Netflix or Amazon don't sign this instead of splurging a quarter-billion on The Wheel of the Ring of the Thrones or whatever. My 1965 edition hasn't got the cover shown here but instead has a painting by Josh Kirby.
January 10, 2023
I’d been looking for this book since the early 1980s and finally got a copy!
It was a book often quoted by my mum in the 70s.
Now I’ve finished it I must say I was a little underwhelmed. I think it talks to a bygone era, with outdated world views (other worldly views?)
I so wanted it to be something more.
It was a book often quoted by my mum in the 70s.
Now I’ve finished it I must say I was a little underwhelmed. I think it talks to a bygone era, with outdated world views (other worldly views?)
I so wanted it to be something more.
July 5, 2025
I'd say it's not that interesting compared to a lot of fantasy that makes you think about how the world works. It's basically a few short stories of "weird" alien life interacting with humans. It's maybe worth checking out if you'd like to try some of the less well-known golden age sci-fi and don't mind some casual late 50s racism. You could probably find better examples though.
October 21, 2022
Marvellous light Science-Fiction collection of four stories involving a motley crew of space travellers and space marines. Narrated by an unknown elderly sergeant at arms, it combines funny stories and interesting visages.
November 12, 2024
It’s okay. Classic formula for exploration - varied species and robot supplement crew to provide specific skills, then challenges appear each with a single defining feature that interacts with the specific skill sets and interests.quick read
June 5, 2025
My first introduction to this author and man I loved this! Very funny and early Star Trek vibes in the sense of its : 1 ship, 1 crew, and many adventures. If you like sci fi with a humorous twist (and don’t mind short story format) this is amazing stuff!
March 4, 2018
Eigenlijk twee sterren, eentje extra de nostalgie. Een hoog 'mwoah' gehalte vanwege het gebrek aan nuance in de drie-en-een-half los verbonden verhalen.
July 19, 2021
Fun! Fun! Fun!
Old school attitudes to different cultures reflected by a gungho perception of non-American stereotypes.
Limited plots maybe, but looking beyond the characterisation is amusing.
Old school attitudes to different cultures reflected by a gungho perception of non-American stereotypes.
Limited plots maybe, but looking beyond the characterisation is amusing.
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