All one universe Book

Meh.
Anderson stumbles in a drunken walk back and forth across the line that separates intellectualism and pedantry through this collection. The stories are a mix of hard sci fi, which are generally interesting, but whose prose tends toward the purple end of the spectrum (Were the bees actually "querning?"), and non-fiction, which seem to be a vehicle for him to "name drop." (Guess who he met for lunch at some event sponsored by NASA?)

I've never read Poul Anderson before; if you have, and like him, add a star. Me? I'm ambivalent.