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Stapledon manages to make it into the classical science fiction canon while dispensing with the traditional methods and inventing his own brand of speculative storytelling. This novel is pure speculation in the grandest sense. A consciousness, very like an astral projection of a human, explores outer space. Once intelligent life is encountered, it observes, then incorporates knowledge from that race and moves on to the next. I like the fact that even with god-like powers, the primary concern of the disembodied protagonist is not to annihilate or conquer the entire universe. It is rather an extrospective blossoming of conglomerate consciousnesses from diverse and disparate stock, amalgamating into a semi-universal consciousness. The resonating extrapolations increase without ceasing, making for a trippy, mind-boggling journey into the furthest reaches of non-human perspective and the endless expanse of uncharted space. Size and speed become increasingly less important as the author maneuvers through the narrative transformations.

If that sounds too abstract, you should read it and decide for yourself. If you're looking for characters, dialogue, setting, atmosphere, plot, or anything besides lyrical, pseudo-scientific exploration of the cosmos, look elsewhere. The pluses far outweigh the minuses in this case, and it is a very good complement to his First and Last Men. I've tried other Stapledon books, Sirius and Odd John, which are also good. However, Star Maker and First and Last Men are his standout works. If you are jonesing for a unique and philosophical s-f treat, strap in for this master class in pure s-f concept execution.