Scan barcode
A review by mburnamfink
Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
5.0
This is where Heinlein starting getting heavy and weird. The story of the book is pretty simple. Valentine Michael Smith is the last survivor of an expedition to Mars, raised by Martians and brought back to Earth. He learns the absurdity of being human, and then teaches humans how to be Martian in a freaky-deeky free love cult that apparently served as the basis for at least one real life religion.
This book shines in its depiction of Martian philosophy. I don’t think there’s ever been a depiction of an alien mind as coherent as the flashes we get from the Martians. They are patient, logical, relentless; practically a geological force. The essence of the Martian philosophy is the word “grok”, which entered mainstream language for a while, and literally means “to drink”, but implies “understand”, “merge with”, “love/hate” and hundreds of other concepts. Once a Martian (or a human trained in Martian thought) groks something, they have incredible powers: telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy, the ability to banish people and things from this universe. With Martian thinking comes a newfound ethical awareness, the understanding that “Thou art God”, and are responsible for the shape of the universe. Jealousy, greed, illness, all the traditional deadly and venal sins are banished in the light of Martian enlightenment.
Heinlein uses this Martian philosophy to take a shotgun to traditional pillars of morality. The church, the state, marriage and monogamy are all mocked and revealed as hollow shells before the absolutely moral innocence of the Man from Mars. Religion is the main target, with Michael Smith using the legal shield of religious freedom to shelter his illuminated cult. A secondary religious target are the Fosterites, a new church founded on the pleasure principle and a hefty dose of violence against heretics. To me, the Fosterites look most like the rock-and-roll Christianity of American megachurches, but there are shades of Mormonism and Scientology as well. The free love advocacy towards the end was apparently immensely scandalous at the time. And of course, the ritual cannibalism that Michael Smith’s church follows is distasteful in a lot of places more exotic than Kansas.
Of course, some stuff seems oddly retro, and not in a good way. For a free love cult, Smith’s people are resolutely straight; no homo here. Everything is grounded in the male-female duality, not person-to-person intimacy. Mad Men style sexual harassment is played straight up, as delightful and pleasant and of no great concern, rather than as the front-line of patriarchal oppression. Female characters were never Heinlein’s strong suit, and the fact that there are so many just gives the book more time to fall flat on their presentation. A Greek Chorus of literal angels appear once in a while to comment on events to no real purpose. There’s new technology, with 3D television and flying cars, but the story doesn’t feel particularly grounded in any particular extrapolation of events. It’s just the 1960s, but moreso.
Where this book really annoyed me was the character of Jubal Harshaw. I don’t mind a lecture, if it’s intelligent and says something new. Harshaw is a Heinlein self-insert character: octogenarian superstar author, rugged individualist, pessimist, universal expert, father to Michael Smith’s humanity, and waited on hand and foot by three beautiful secretaries. Harshaw is supposed to be common-sense wisdom, as opposed to the expert lunacy of the modern world and the alien mindset of the Martians, but he just strikes me as a cranky coot uplifted to Mary Sue status through the undeserving love of the author.
Stranger in a Strange Land has attracted a lot of flack, much of it undeservedly (the one star reviews I’ve seen make me wonder if those reviewers have ever read a truly awful book). I cannot help but love what it’s selling: the idea that if human beings might learn to think straight, we might transcend our ape pasts and become truly luminous beings. You don’t need to believe this, and I don’t think Heinlein did either, but it’s a wonderful idea perfectly presented.
This book shines in its depiction of Martian philosophy. I don’t think there’s ever been a depiction of an alien mind as coherent as the flashes we get from the Martians. They are patient, logical, relentless; practically a geological force. The essence of the Martian philosophy is the word “grok”, which entered mainstream language for a while, and literally means “to drink”, but implies “understand”, “merge with”, “love/hate” and hundreds of other concepts. Once a Martian (or a human trained in Martian thought) groks something, they have incredible powers: telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy, the ability to banish people and things from this universe. With Martian thinking comes a newfound ethical awareness, the understanding that “Thou art God”, and are responsible for the shape of the universe. Jealousy, greed, illness, all the traditional deadly and venal sins are banished in the light of Martian enlightenment.
Heinlein uses this Martian philosophy to take a shotgun to traditional pillars of morality. The church, the state, marriage and monogamy are all mocked and revealed as hollow shells before the absolutely moral innocence of the Man from Mars. Religion is the main target, with Michael Smith using the legal shield of religious freedom to shelter his illuminated cult. A secondary religious target are the Fosterites, a new church founded on the pleasure principle and a hefty dose of violence against heretics. To me, the Fosterites look most like the rock-and-roll Christianity of American megachurches, but there are shades of Mormonism and Scientology as well. The free love advocacy towards the end was apparently immensely scandalous at the time. And of course, the ritual cannibalism that Michael Smith’s church follows is distasteful in a lot of places more exotic than Kansas.
Of course, some stuff seems oddly retro, and not in a good way. For a free love cult, Smith’s people are resolutely straight; no homo here. Everything is grounded in the male-female duality, not person-to-person intimacy. Mad Men style sexual harassment is played straight up, as delightful and pleasant and of no great concern, rather than as the front-line of patriarchal oppression. Female characters were never Heinlein’s strong suit, and the fact that there are so many just gives the book more time to fall flat on their presentation. A Greek Chorus of literal angels appear once in a while to comment on events to no real purpose. There’s new technology, with 3D television and flying cars, but the story doesn’t feel particularly grounded in any particular extrapolation of events. It’s just the 1960s, but moreso.
Where this book really annoyed me was the character of Jubal Harshaw. I don’t mind a lecture, if it’s intelligent and says something new. Harshaw is a Heinlein self-insert character: octogenarian superstar author, rugged individualist, pessimist, universal expert, father to Michael Smith’s humanity, and waited on hand and foot by three beautiful secretaries. Harshaw is supposed to be common-sense wisdom, as opposed to the expert lunacy of the modern world and the alien mindset of the Martians, but he just strikes me as a cranky coot uplifted to Mary Sue status through the undeserving love of the author.
Stranger in a Strange Land has attracted a lot of flack, much of it undeservedly (the one star reviews I’ve seen make me wonder if those reviewers have ever read a truly awful book). I cannot help but love what it’s selling: the idea that if human beings might learn to think straight, we might transcend our ape pasts and become truly luminous beings. You don’t need to believe this, and I don’t think Heinlein did either, but it’s a wonderful idea perfectly presented.