This book popped up at a used bookstore. I bought it, reluctantly, aware that the early version of the Photoshop cover carries a heavy, sexist pedigree.
The TL; dr? An SF idea executed in a sexist, instead of interesting, fashion from a naive time.
Why did I buy it? And then read it? Because I enjoyed many Poul Anderson books as a younger person. I first saw this on the town library shelves perhaps one year past my first decade. I never checked it out. Though the librarians knew me and never would have questioned it, I would not have felt comfortable if Mom saw it. And why is that? Probably because growing up Catholic, sex was taboo to talk about. Which is unhealthy in and of itself.
However, lest I digress too much, let's turn to the book, 40 odd years later.
Major Spoilers Ahead.
Without the significant social overtones, the plot is:
Protagonist finds a planet.
The inhabitants are human and they welcome him. They want something from him.
He doesn't give them what they want.
He conquers all the friendly leaders by charm.
He conquers the ruling class that opposes him by getting allies, using force and getting his blaster back.
He gets back to his ship to return home.
He'll return with friends to help exploit the planet.
It is fully mediocre as an Anderson novella - pure 19th century fiction of the unfinest Robinson Crusoe-had-a-child-with-Horatio Hornblower who beat them both up to become Emperor of the Sol System kind. I will point out this was written in 1959 - it lives up to a low standard in literature yet the author was well regarded as a storyteller in the small SF community so it does have a few redeeming values. I feel a little bad trotting out the sarcasm.
The Appendix is a somewhat interesting part of the volume because it carries Anderson's calculations on the planet, it's moons, the day and night cycles and more. That world itself has a few interesting minor guest star appearances, mostly because of the tides and the times of day. He didn't know enough science to consider how much it would differ from Earth, and how people would be affected biologically, to say little of emotionally or mentally. Yet, there was consideration for what Sir Poul knew.
Now let's look at the native society. In Anderson's words - not in this book - "the autochthons". The ~200 clans of women on the planet have been radicalized by theology - not biology - and cultural assumptions by the author. They are (logically? illogically??) dependent upon machines to reproduce and exist, which is controlled by the Doctor caste. Within this context, the natives form a full, medieval society entirely of women. Said society clings to its technology. But there are no challenges or obstacles on the planet itself that cannot be overcome.
The sole obstacle is a lack of men.
Without them, they'll eventually perish.
And when the Man arrives, he's a hero. He takes charge. And he wins.
At the end, he's in love with two essentially identical women that he can't choose between. So the women roll dice to find out who gets him. We don't even get the result.
I see why this novel languishes.
It does however at least have some good science ideas that the survivors of the crash could find a way to keep alive and expand. The author also plausibly describes the resulting places of the novel.
To be fair to Anderson, he never wrote far out of his comfort zone. The women in the societies of the planet are all manner of humans: warriors, politicians, artists, saviors. However, they pretty much desire "the Man" - consider the forced radicalization of the story - and they basically defer to him except for those natives in power whose position is threatened. It's a wet dream from the world of creative writers in the 1950s and 1960s with a thin veneer of "I'm not a bad guy!" behavior.
I see this as Anderson riffing from one of a notebook full of story ideas when he could have sat down to consider the vast and amazing possibilities . As much as his white knight survey hero feigns politeness, blushes and avoids improprieties, he behaves himself only where others are watching. The protagonist still is the rooster in the barnyard.
The human inhabitants of the planet were programmed for the Return of Man. But. BUT. I refuse to believe that a "man from the stars" who simply has a better gun will win out against a planet. And so it falls short: covert sexist behavior from the hero, and an utterly expected result.
Now at this point, I must confess that as a kid in junior high, and high school, and perhaps even older, I loved the idea of being so skilled and powerful that I could turn entire planets to my will, and avert crises across multiple solar systems. Anderson's Dominic Flandry holds back the fall of a galactic society. His tales are more believable in my aging memory. The author, for his day, was progressive. Anderson told stories that I found good. I may have also lacked a worldly context.
Perspective is fascinating.