Theodore Sturgeon only wrote SF because no other genre could possibly have contained the immensity of his ideas. But he wrote unconsciously of the genre and his work tends to be devoid of the usual trappings found in many other SF writers work. That this was originally published in 1951 only serves to intensify my admiration for this man's work, reminding me just how ahead of his time he was.
Sturgeon is an ideas man so one might compare him to the likes of A.E. van Vogt and Philip K. Dick but he combines his powerful imagination with masterful literary skills, something the other two often struggled to do. He also conveys an authorative understanding and depth of knowledge of the subject matter in question. And this book is no exception.
This is a gripping and traumatic story packed full of interesting characters. Once again a contemplation of what it is to be human is the central theme of this book. While not quite attaining the dizzying heights of More Than Human, this is a great story and deserves more recognition than it appears to have.
I can't wait to read some more of this man's work, although I'm not sure where to go next...