This is not going to be a complete story-by-story review of the book Thunder and Roses.
First, about the parts beside the stories:
I think that Jacek Yerka's "Sun Spots" cover is dreadful. I have seen other work from Yerka (including the cover of the first book in this series, The Ultimate Egoist) that I like, but this picture is not only ugly but not, in my opinion, in any way representative of the spirit of Theodore Sturgeon.
I note that James Gunn's "Foreward" was not written for this book. It comes from Gunn's earlier book, The Joy Machine, which was based on an unused outline written by Sturgeon for an episode of Star Trek that was never filmed. (The copyright for the foreward, which for some reason amuses me, is "by Paramount Pictures.") The foreward tells of Gunn's acquaintance and growing friendship with Sturgeon, and of Sturgeon's career and his "charm and empathy and concern for style." This is a gracious and touching memoir.
The story notes by Paul Williams are, as they are throughout this series, both helpful and frustrating. I greatly wish that Williams had included more opinions, more about the stories as fiction; that was clearly not what Williams wanted to do, though. Some of the notes are terse, as in the following, quoted in its entirety:
"Memory": first published in Thrilling Wonder Stories, August 1948. Written in summer or fall 1947.
Others are very much longer with valuable information, particularly the notes on "Maturity," "Largo," "Thunder and Roses," and "It Wasn't Syzygy."
And as for the stories...
There are fifteen stories in this volume, all written in 1946-1947. Most of them are science fiction or fantasy. The ones that are not are "The Blue Letter," "Wham Bop!," "Well Spiced," and "A Way Home." Of the science fiction tales, three of them seem to me to be not especially memorable. There is little in them that seems to me to proclaim, "This was written by Theodore Sturgeon!" Those are "The Sky Was Full of Ships," "Memory," and "There Is No Defense."
"The Blue Letter" is a brief, New Yorker-ish story that had not been published before appearing here. I don't know why it wasn't. I like it, and think it conveys its mood effectively.
"Wham Bop!" is about jazz musicians. "Well Spiced" is a Western, originally appearing in Zane Grey's Western Magazine. They are both good but unexciting tales.
"A Way Home" is a non-genre story that was originally published in a science fiction magazine, Amazing. Some of the children in Sturgeon's fiction are vaudeville comics in miniature - see, for example, the little girls in "Mewhu's Jet," "The Chromium Helmet," and "The Hag Sèleen." He generally does better with boys: Gerry in "Baby Is Three," Horty in The Dreaming Jewels, and Paul in this story, all convincing as children. This is about a boy running away from home, who pictures scenarios of his possible future, and then makes a decision. It is a genuine shame that works as good as this did not reach the larger audience for whom they were intended.
"The Professor's Teddy Bear" is a horror story that originally appeared in Weird Tales. Sturgeon did not write much flat-out horror, but that included some of his most memorable work. "Bianca's Hands" and "It" are probably his most famous horror tales, but "The Professor's Teddy Bear" is also fine.
"That Low" is the strangest, and in some ways the saddest, story in this book. The main character is named Fowler, but he is a spiritual brother to Al Capp's Joe Btfsplk, the guy in Li'l Abner with a permanent raincloud over his head. He is also a (very) distant cousin to Cleveland Wheeler in Sturgeon's story "Occam's Scalpel." Fowler was "a failure specialist"; Wheeler never had "a failure in anything he tried." But they each at one point owe a lot of money. Fowler "put a list of his obligations down on paper and drew up a plan to take care of things. It was a plan that was within his capabilities and meant chip, chip, chip for a long, long time before he could ever call himself honestly broke again." Wheeler "went on until all the bills were paid - every cent." But while their circumstances and their determinations were briefly similar, the men were really not, and their lives became very different indeed. Fowler had nothing after that but what most folks would consider bad luck...but most folks are not all folks, and that is part of the point of the story.
"Largo" is a story of the world's greatest violinist/composer, his grasping manager, and the woman who becomes the manager's wife, with whom the violinist fell in love at first sight...but at first sight only. When I was about twelve years old, I thought this was quite wonderful. Now I think that it is preposterous - but still, in some ways, wonderful.
My comments about "Hurricane Trio"
are quoted, with some minor changes, from my earlier review of the April, 1955 issue of Galaxy Science Fiction, in which it was originally published:
Theodore Sturgeon stated that "Hurricane Trio" had been written and originally marketed as a non-genre story with no science fiction elements. When it did not sell that way, he revised it as a science fiction tale. A married couple on a vacation meet a single woman. The husband is powerfully attracted to her, but takes no action. Some time later, on another vacation, they happen to meet again. The couple and the other woman are forced by circumstances to share a bedroom, with the couple in one bed and the other woman in the other. The wife, aware of the attraction, leaves her husband alone with the other woman, saying that she is going into another room to read a very long book. What will happen?
That is the essential story. The tacked-on science fiction tells of an earlier automobile accident in which the husband was killed crashing into a spaceship. The aliens in the ship had repaired him so that he was better than new, not a superbeing but a man with unusual mental acuity. This plays very little part in the story.
As with much of his fiction, there is some very fine prose here. I like the story but I do not think it is Sturgeon at his best; I believe that the earlier version might well have been better.
"It Wasn't Syzygy" is a very tricky tale about a man and woman who meet, each believing that the other is the perfectly matched person that they have waited for all their lives. They are correct, but for a reason that they (or the reader) could not have known. This is funny, moving, and utterly unexpected.
"Thunder and Roses" is a story with a moral, that being that "America First" can be a pernicious doctrine, and that the world and humankind should be valued more than any one group. This takes place after a nuclear war when the Western Hemisphere is doomed but humanity might continue in other locations, if they are not wiped out as well. I have read this story many times and keep switching my opinion between this being maudlin or being tremendously moving. At the moment, I am leaning toward the latter.
I think that "Thunder and Roses" is a fine title. I believe that it was original with Sturgeon, which would mean that the two later-written novels with the same title and a third book titled Of Thunder and Roses: A Historical Romantic Drama set in the Pioneer Days all have titles that either were arrived at by a remarkable coincidence or else that they were "borrowed" from Sturgeon.
My comments about "Tiny and the Monster" are also quoted with minor changes from an earlier review of mine, this one a review of the May, 1947 issue of Astounding Science Fiction:
"Tiny and the Monster" is the story of an alien who needs help to repair a spaceship. The alien enlists the aid of Tiny, a Great Dane, and three people, Tiny's male owner from St. Croix, a female metallurgist, and the metallurgist's mother. This story was known for having an alien who looks too strange to let him/her/itself be seen but is benevolent. This is an excellent and well-known story.
Once again my comments about one of the stories come, somewhat changed, from an earlier review. The story is "Maturity", and my earlier review was of the book Maturity: Three Stories:
In the introduction to Maturity: Three Stories, Sturgeon explains that this story first appeared in Astounding Science Fiction (in the February, 1947 issue), that he was "profoundly dissatisfied" with it, and rewrote it when it appeared in a collection of his stories. And he should have been dissatisfied; that first version starts very well and then falls apart. That earlier version, as well as the rewritten one, appear in The Complete Short Stories of Theodore Sturgeon, Volume IV: Thunder and Roses.
"Maturity" has three main characters. The central one is Robin English, a brilliant, sparkling manchild, unable to concentrate on any one thing for long. He writes, invents, paints and sculpts, plays a variety of musical instruments; but what could he do, what could he be, if he truly worked at something?
He has aroused the interest of two physicians. Margaretta Wendell, sometimes known as "Peg," is an endocrinologist, whose interest in Robin has become love.
The other physician is Mel Warfield, who has a plan to adjust Robin's glandular levels chemically. This will shrink his thymus and change him from a "static precocity" to maturity. Mel is in love with Peg.
Much of the story is concerned with what maturity is, for animals and for people. This material is fascinating, even when presented in a long, unbelievable conversation of strangers meeting in a bar, two of them being Robin and Peg. Traveling salesmen and showgirls simply don't, I think, normally act this way and certainly don't use terms like "ontogenetic peak." This conversation has nothing to do with the plot, but everything to do with the story as a whole.
There are quite wonderful things in the story. Robin begins as someone who almost compulsively makes puns, and many of them are really funny.
And, as with most of Sturgeon's stories, there is some lovely prose.
The first version of this story, the one that appeared in Astounding, had Robin battling against a "Napoleon of crime" figure. The notes in Thunder and Roses quote two famous fellow-writers of Sturgeon's, Ray Bradbury and Robert Heinlein, as praising the first version in letters to Sturgeon, and another author, Clifford Simak, decrying the ending in another letter. I think that Simak was clearly right.
"In 1952," Sturgeon wrote later, "I became father of my firstborn son, and so I named him Robin, after the protagonist of this story."
And one more comment about this story; I have never understood the last sentence.
I had hoped to include some of my favorite passages from the book, but Goodreads won't spare the space.
There are only a handful of stories in this book that I would include on my list of Absolutely Indispensable Sturgeon. Those are "The Professor's Teddy Bear," "A Way Home," "Thunder and Roses," "Tiny and the Monster," and "Maturity." "Largo" and "It Wasn't Syzygy" are also recommended.