In the short time since its publication in English, Roadside Picnic has established itself as an important novel…. The hunting trips through this alien refuse area are fascinating. The effect of the unknown on the lives of the stalkers, scientists and townspeople is moving, often heartbreaking. What makes the story work are the human reactions and relationships, the sudden details that startle the reader but are part of the normal world of the story. The characters accept their world with all its changes, and so do we.

At one point a character speculates on the notion of reason as an explicit form of instinct, through which we approach and assimilate the unknown. It occurred to me as I was reading that the stalkers are much like science fiction writers, and that some bring back the genuine unknown, while others fake it, or bring back trivia. It's an adult, literate, mercilessly honest book—the kind of story that Astounding [Magazine] might have published if there had been no taboos on language and sex. The sense of human hurt is devastating.

Tale of the Troika, the companion novel in this bargain volume, is almost as good, but in a completely different vein. Not since Eric Frank Russell was at the height of his powers have I found so much laughter in a science fiction story. This one is extremely intricate, and probably impossible to get in one reading, unless you go very slowly. It's a combination of the Marx Brothers and screwy fairy tales and science fiction. There are many wonderful cameo appearances by strange creatures, aliens, bureaucrats, biological chimeras, etc. The settings are astonishingly implausible, yet treated with complete acceptance. I don't think I should try to describe this story. (p. 33)

Noon: 22nd Century is unlike any Strugatsky book I've seen to date. Its technique reminds me of Dos Passos, but on the scale of the solar system and beyond. One reads this book for the recurring characters, and for the gradual portrait of the future that emerges through the accretion of details, stories and settings. Many of the details are very winning, and I found quite a few of the short sequences very moving, the human beings quite appealing. The contrasts with our own times made me feel quaint. Inevitably, this kind of novel will not be to everyone's liking, but the authors have used the technique well, if not always successfully.

Definitely Maybe is an intriguing novel of confrontation with the unknown, along Lem-like lines. I think the book was grossly underrated by F & SF's previous reviewer, [Algis Budrys, in the November, 1978 issue], as well as misunderstood. Since the book is now out in paper, and has been highly praised by countless others, I recommend that the … reader make up his or her own mind.

Prisoners of Power is a strong novel dealing with intervention in the affairs of a declining culture on another planet. We are reminded of Hard to Be A God by the same authors. Maxim's future world is unlike ours, but the planet he visits is more like our earth, giving us a double view—one from the past and one from the future.

The great virtues of Prisoners of Power lie in its treatment of the central problem: should a backward society be moved forward or left alone. We see this in the way that Maxim changes and hardens through his many adventures, and in the end we are also exhausted, changed. (p. 34)