Heinlein's Starship Troopers--As Relevant Today as 60 Years Ago (#SFWA Pro)

I have written here previously about science fiction as the most relevant genre

for the present-day world, the only one that comes close to capturing what it is like

to live in the first part of the 21st--and possibly final--century. So many mainstream

and literary writers have adopted sci-fi tropes that there is scarcely a divide anymore

between popular fiction and sci-fi. Margaret Atwood comes to mind, as well as Junot

Diaz, and many other "literary" writers. Well-known sf classics like On the Beach and

1984 have acquired a renewed relevance, but there are also many lesser-known works

from the previous century that resonate with aspects of our Brave New World, as it

was termed by Aldous Huxley in 1931.

For reasons of sanity, I cannot bear to read much current literature, and have begun

to return to my roots in the classic science fiction of the 1940’s, 50’s, and 60’s. So far

what I’ve been reading is even better than I remember. I’ve begun with one of my

favorites, the man who could arguably be called the greatest of them all: Robert A.

Heinlein. Scientist, popularizer, visionary, and above all a consummate story-teller,

Heinlein was immensely influential not only on subsequent science fiction, but also in

mainstream literature and culture. For example, Heinlein invented the concept of

“waldos”--mechanical hands that could manipulate in places too dangerous for humans.

He was the first to popularize the idea of colonizing the moon, and perhaps the first

to suggest that this project might be done by private enterprise. His compulsively-

readable novel, Stranger in a Strange Land (1961), was the first sci-fi novel to make

the NY Times best-seller list, and gave us the concept of water beds as well as the

Martian verb “to grok” (roughly, to understand deeply).

All of his novels--at least the earlier ones--are well worth reading. Next to Stranger in a

Strange Land, Heinlein’s best-known novel is Starship Troopers first published in 1959.

I recently re-read it with great pleasure and not a small amount of awe.

Starship Troopers is as relevant today as it was when Heinlein wrote it. As entertaining,

too. I especially recommend it to other writers as an example of gripping storytelling that

seems to break all the rules. With no traditional plot, with dozens of named characters,

many of them literally expendable, with many pages of technical details about the logistics

and hardware of military training, the novel nevertheless grabs the reader from the beginning

and doesn’t let go until the inevitable but still somewhat surprising end.

It is a first-person narrative told by a teenage boy who impulsively enlists in the

Terran Mobile Infantry, a branch of the armed services, which offer the only way a

member of society can become a full citizen. The story follows our hero from his first

day of boot camp through the early years of his role in combat. Although we do not know

much about the politics of the situation, it is clear that Earth is united in a deadly battle

with alien “Bugs,” and that our space-suited soldiers are perhaps all that stand between

our home planet and ultimate conquest by the aliens. The combat is not at all glorified;

it is described as terrifying, dirty, and necessary. To me the most remarkable aspect of

Starship Troopers is its solid depiction of life in the military as akin to living in a kind of

especially close family. The values of loyalty, camaraderie, dedication to a cause--the

good side, if you will, of tribalism--all are demonstrated in ways that let us, as readers,

feel them ourselves. Reading this book has helped me to understand why so many

people from such diverse backgrounds choose to become military “lifers.”

There are some anachronisms, and as with most science fiction of that era, Starship

Troopers depends on paternalistic, sexist stereotypes in its depiction of women. Unlike

many twentieth-century authors, however, Heinlein did portray women serving in many

roles, from rocket pilot to head of state, that were closed to them in the real-life world.

I understand that Starship Troopers was made into a movie, which I did not see and

have no desire to see. I want to continue to picture it in my imagination, as vivid as

when I read it. And I want to continue to ponder Heinlein’s authorial magic, as I did

when I frequently stopped reading to ask myself, over and over: How did he do that?

Some of my previous posts focusing on science fiction:

How Science Fiction Could Save the World

A Kinder, Gentler Apocalypse

What Makes Science Fiction Different From Other Literary Genres?

How Science Fiction Could Save the World (#SFWA Pro)

“We’ll be fine,” my Facebook friends say. “We survived W, we’ll survive this.”

But what if these friends are wrong? What if we don’t survive? What if it really is different this time?

I grew up in a science-literate household (my father was a paleontologist), and began reading science fiction in sixth grade. It has always been natural for me to react to major global and societal changes in terms of “what if,” extrapolating what might ensue from this or that event or trend. Today, as an adult science fiction writer, I can’t help looking at the current scene from a science-fictional what-if perspective.

The things that currently keep me awake nights are what seem to be too-likely consequences from the relentless destruction of our natural heritage, including coral reefs, a wide diversity of animals, and genetically diverse food crops;  or a precipitous global warming catastrophe, caused by the sudden collapse of the Greenland glaciers or the massive release of previously sequestered carbon in the permafrost; or, more dramatically, nuclear war, caused perhaps by careless talk from a national leader who does not understand either diplomacy or the devastating consequences of the detonation of nuclear weapons.   

The problem is that to avoid these horrible outcomes it is necessary to understand them, and for that a knowledge of science is essential. Unfortunately, most of our new leaders seem to lack any interest or knowledge of science, as well as the necessary imagination to read actual science. But perhaps they can be educated in a different way. Perhaps reading (and watching) good science fiction could help make a difference. Perhaps well-wrought stories with a scientific background might interest those who believe that science is all bunk or a left-wing conspiracy. Perhaps when science is explained dramatically in a plot point, some decision makers might be impelled to think twice:  “Maybe there is something to this after all. Maybe we should be careful about adding more carbon to the atmosphere.” Or, “I can see that if we continue to threaten to use nuclear weapons, we could end up destroying a lot more than our enemy’s cities.”

“What if?” is the starting point for many if not most science fiction stories. Reading science fiction might lead current non-readers to start thinking about the what-if’s implicit in their policy decisions. A few classic science fiction novels might be the spur we need. What if genetic manipulation led to a caste system on which social and work status are based? Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World gives us one plausible scenario. What if the “free world” were taken over by a highly technologized dictatorship whose perverse use of language destroyed its meaning? See George Orwell’s 1984. What if the world population continued to grow exponentially without any mitigation from social or political policy? Read John Brunner’s Stand on Zanzibar, which also features Shalmaneser, an all-wise computer that foreshadows the Internet. What if there were a very sudden global warming catastrophe? John Barnes’ Mother of Storms shows us the horrifying, too-believable aftermath. What would human life be like six hundred years after a nuclear war? Walter M. Miller, Jr., describes it in his award-winning classic A Canticle for Leibowitz.

There are many more examples, including two of my own stories:  The Pandora’s Trilogy, which tells how civilization was destroyed as a consequence of a massive oil spill; while my novelette “The Ptorrigan Lode,” shows the devastating consequences of out-of-control corporate greed that values profit over human life and art. I would be more than happy to donate copies of my books to any decision-makers who would agree to read them, and I imagine the same is true for other science fiction writers and publishers. 

Do I think that my solution will really make a difference to the "brave" new world that will soon confront us? Not really. But it could, and I think it’s worth trying. If you agree, send your representatives reading lists or even books. And who knows? A good story is seductive, and a few good science fiction stories might actually change some minds. For more of my musings on the value of science fiction, see this earlier post.

What Makes Science Fiction Different from Other Literary Genres? #SFWApro

I don’t think science fiction is what you think it is. I have adored science fiction since I was a child. It is interesting and exciting because it answers questions that begin “What if?” Though the genre has a reputation for being less-well-written than some other genres, that is not true. As with any fiction, some is good, some is bad, some is ordinary. Still, there are several major differences between sf and other genres, and I believe it is these differences that persuade many people that they don’t like or won’t like anything labeled sf.

1. Science fiction stories often begin in the middle

In the early eighties I took a graduate seminar in literary analysis. On the first day of class, the professor gave us a sheet of paper with the beginning lines of several novels. Most of them were enigmatic, and, as the woman sitting next to me noted, seemed to come from the middle rather than the first part of a book. The other participants too seemed baffled, sure that this was some sort of trick. I, on the other hand, had no problem at all: “These all seem to be the opening lines of science fiction stories,” I said.

The professor was impressed, and began a discussion pointing out that more than in other genres, science fiction stories start in media res, simply plunging into the world where the story takes place. This adds to the verisimilitude of sf stories; after all, how likely would you be to read further in a mainstream novel that began by explaining that the story takes place in the twenty-first century, in a mid-sized city in a nation called the United States? That unremarkable information is assumed in mainstream fiction, and similar facts are assumed in science fiction also; any background material that is needed for understanding is filled in as needed later in the narrative.

2. Science fiction makes demands on the reader

A science fiction story is, in a way, a compact between the knowledgeable reader and the author. Part of the fun of reading an sf story or novel is trying to orient yourself and figure out what is going on. The best sf writers can be trusted to eventually give you enough information that you will be able to fill in the background for yourself. In this way, science fiction is like detective fiction, in which you trust the author to feed you all the clues needed to solve the mystery.

3. Sometimes science fiction stories can’t be figured out

A few science fiction stories, like many mainstream stories, leave some answers unresolved, but the remaining questions themselves become part of the story. The best example I can think of is Roadside Picnic, the award-winning short novel by Soviet writers Arkady and Boris Strugatsky, which tells about a future earth in which mysterious, never-identified aliens have left contaminated zones filled with dangerous but valuable artifacts. We never find out who the aliens were, nor why they visited, but the story itself is fascinating and gripping, and the fact that we never find out what is really going on tells us even more about the world of the story.

4. Science fiction helps us adjust to a changing world

I was once fortunate enough to interview Isaac Asimov for a magazine I worked for. My editor wanted his opinion on “What is the purpose of science fiction?” The great man thought for a moment, then said, “Science fiction accustoms us to the future.”

No matter what happens in our often-scary new world, I’ve seen it before in science fiction, and often in works published or produced long before the present day. Suicide bombers and random assassins? These were the “muckers” in Stand on Zanzibar. Genetic manipulation of humans? Brave New World (published in 1931!).  iPhones and the Internet? Star Trek and Speaker for the Dead. Deadly climate change? Mother of Storms.

In my newest novel, Pandora’s Promise, I write about a dangerous world 100 years after modern technology is wiped out by a recombinant-DNA disaster. But my story ends on a note of hope--for the human race and the remaining creatures on earth. I can’t reveal here what that hope is (the “Promise” of the title), but I can tell you that my wish is for it to come true, as so many other science fiction predictions have done.