Edmond Hamilton isn't as well-known as he deserves to be, and that's a shame. From the earliest days of the Golden Age, to the dawn of more complex & literate science fiction, his was always a name & imagination to be reckoned with, a guarantee of good reading.
The stories from his first decades are raw & wild, bursting with ideas & spectacular images. If the science was wrong even then, it really doesn't matter. Like his contemporaries, Hamilton was playing with Ideas & Archetypes, giving them a space-age makeover. The phrase "sense of wonder" rightfully applies to those years! Just consider the chilling "Fessenden's Worlds," for example.
Yet even in those early stories, with the emphasis on the immense, he was already casting a dubious eye on the image of the triumphant, conquering spacemen. Earth doesn't always come off so well, and he makes the reader aware of the dark side of the heroic, colonizing human, as in "A Conquest of Two Worlds."
As the years continued, he developed greater depth & sensitivity, as demonstrated the elegiac "Requiem," the somber "Day of Judgment," and especially in his lovely, lyrical tale, "He That Hath Wings." This is still one of the finest parables about the fate of the non-conforming outsider in modern society that I've ever read, retaining all of its bittersweet emotional power to this day.
In his later years, he intertwined stellar adventure with astute psychological character study, giving us stories such as "What's It Like Out There?" that were not only gripping, but philosophical as well. Yet he never lost his ability to create powerful, stunning images. He had all the virtues of the pulp writer, without any of the flaws; as a result, his work remains strong & worth reading to this day, and definitely in need of reprinting!