Starts off well enough - a mission on Mars fails, its participants dead. Years later a descendant of these humans, raised by Martians, is found. This man is unaccustomed to our way of thinking and is ready to present us with a completely new world view. He is hidden by politicians who try to take advantage of him, there are kidnappings, exterminations, but... What starts very promising gradually grows into a lot of psychedelic, metaphysical, existential philosophizing and lecturing. Other readers promise free love propaganda and orgies as a means of the humanity's salvation later on, but I just can't be bothered. I am bored...

But, evidently, this book had a cult following in its time. Even a religion was founded on this book's ideas!

I, on the other hand, am left with the same feeling I had reading Slaughterhouse-Five - utter indifference and boredom.

I will state, without apology, that I have enjoyed every Robert Heinlein book I have ever read.
Do I always agree with his philosophy or his observations on life. No.

But he tells me a story, and while he is telling it, I don't put that book down.

I don't read books to find authors who agree with me or match some political template.

I read books for stories. And diversity in story tellers is good.

I read this. Yes. When I was young. At the time it appeared to be fascism for hippies. Proto-Manson, then. I'm struggling to remember anything. He comes from Mars and he starts a new religion and he eats people. No - he gets eaten by people. I think that's it. A bit like Jesus. If Jesus was a fascist. You know what - I can't remember a thing. It's late.

*

Update - for why we never have to read this one anymore, see Robin's review here

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

Nowadays, most people seem to either love or hate Heinlein. Many read his children's books like Podkayne from Mars, Red Planet and The Rolling Stones, enjoyed the adventure and moved on to his adult stuff just to get more. The politics, sexism and lack of depth went over their young heads. To them, his books were just great adventure. And yes, for the era in which they were written, they were great adventure and less sexist than most SF at the time.

My intro to the man was a little different: I was dallying at the library because I wanted just one more book (I was 12 I think). My mom was trying to get me to leave so she glanced at the paperback rack where I was standing, grabbed "Stranger in a Strange Land" and said, "If you want to know how weird your father is, read this book." How could I turn that down? I grabbed it and devoured it as soon as I got home.

I loved it, the free love was eye-opening, and I announced when I was finished that I was bisexual. I've never turned back, although my mom was understandably disbelieving, never really even hearing me. (She was later shocked when I first dated another woman.)

The book affected me profoundly but I am afraid to read it again because I'm sure I'll hate it. So I have a love/hate relationship with Heinlein. He was my second favorite author by the time I graduated from high school having read everything he wrote. By the time he died, I had wised up and realized what he was really about. Libertarian politics anger me. His twisted sexism, the kind where a woman tells a man he's smarter because he needs to believe he is and yet has very little power, makes me want to vomit. And I hate to think what kind of racist drivel I'd find.

But if there was a book that actually changed my life, this is it. Yes, I was 12, and yes, I would have come out eventually and yes, I would probably strongly dislike the book now. But Stranger was my favorite book for a long time. For its place in my past, my enjoyment of it at the time I read it, and the effect it had on my life, I must give it five stars. Just don't ask me to defend it.

I just re-read for the SF & Fantasy book club. I've read it a several times over the years. Worth the time & was no effort. It's incredible to me that he captured the 60's so well & it was first published in 1961. It would have been a lot less shocking toward the end of that decade, but he actually foresaw so much of the societal upheaval we had.

Typical of Heinlein, one of his main characters is a crusty old genius, Jubal Harshaw, who pontificates a fair amount. Heinlein kept his sexual revolution within limits that I could accept, unlike his works a decade later & beyond. He takes our basic preconceptions about society & religion out & examines them closely, often through Jubal's cynical POV (which I often agree with, so I like it) yet I can never put mine back unchanged. It helps to read this occasionally, if only to gain some perspective to look at my current society.

As an SF novel, he does have his gadgets, but leaves the science of their workings to our imaginations. In other words, he doesn't date his work with a lot of pseudo-science that is outdated. It helps this book stand the test of time a lot better. While the setting is sometime in the near future, it easily stays that way - it has since I first read it 35 years or so ago, anyway.

He also has Psi powers, which are available to any person who has the intellect & discipline to learn the Martian language & logic systems.

The characters are interesting, if not particularly deep or complex. A lot is left up to the reader, which I prefer. He sketches the outline & let's me fill the character in with my own prejudices. Occasionally, he swats them down.

All in all, it's an excellent book & a must read.

A cult classic now out of time and out of place!

Valentine Michael Smith is genetically a human. But he was born on Mars and he is now the only survivor of the first manned mission to Mars. When the second mission to Mars rescues him and brings him back to earth, they discover that is 100% Martian by culture, language, upbringing, education and understanding. They even discover that he has some exceptionally potent psychic abilities that, by human experience, are all but supernatural. Never having heard any human language and never having met a woman, he is a true "tabula rasa" when it comes to sex and sexuality, war and fighting, business, money and economics, religion and, indeed, all aspects of human culture and the cultural implications that are inherent in any of earth's many languages.

As if it wasn't enough that his arrival on earth caused a global sensation, the US government was aghast to come to the realization that a piece of earth-side legislation known as the Larkin Decision had the unforeseen implication that Valentine Michael Smith was not only the owner of Mars but also its sovereign. He was also the sole inheritor of the combined wealth of the entire crew of the first mission and, as a result, (despite having no knowledge of what money even meant) was now wealthy beyond imagining.

Events which transpired at Bethesda Naval Station, where Smith was housed after he first arrived on earth, conspired to place him under the watchful eyes of Gillian Boardman, a nurse at the hospital, Ben Caxton, a journalist, and Jubal Harshaw, an aging grumpy author with some definite ideas as to the rights and wrongs of the world. The novel, as you might imagine with this introduction, relates Michael Valentine Smith's journey through earth's culture, his reactions, his assimilation of the ideas and language of the earth and, ultimately, his proactive responses to what he has learned.

In the time of Timothy Leary, Haight-Ashbury, hippie culture, free love, flower children, "drop in, tune out", student protests against the Vietnam War, communal living and so on, it is little wonder that STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND, winner of the 1962 Hugo Award, became a much-loved cult classic. But, sadly, reading it almost 40 years later is to discover that Jubal Harshaw, one of the primary characters, is simply Heinlein's mouthpiece standing on a soapbox loudly spouting endless (and frankly outdated, dreary and boring) diatribes and opinions on organized religion, cults and churches (which, in Heinlein's mind, appear to be virtually indistinguishable one from the other), culture, language, imperialism, and, of course, sex and sexuality.

Certainly, STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND can be read with some interest because of its historical relevance to the period but it hasn't aged well at all. Modern readers born after the 60s will almost certainly find it both bizarre and quite tiresome. Even as a Heinlein fan who first read (and enjoyed) it shortly after its initial publication (and like other young people of the day was wont to ask my friends if they "grokked" the story), I found it a great disappointment today.

Recommended only out of academic interest. I found it a tough slog to even finish it today.

Paul Weiss

Ahoy there mateys! Get ready for a bit of a rant with spoilers. Read at yer own peril . . . This was me first reading of this classic sci-fi work. I did read some Heinlein back in me youth. But I seemed to have read only “juveniles” like “the rolling stones” and “have spacesuit – will travel.” And details of those reads remain extraordinarily fuzzy even if thinking of them brings back feelings of happiness in general.

Sci-Fi aficionados would always express surprise that I had not read this masterwork by this Grandmaster of the genre. And it has been on the list to read forever. But I have always been hesitant to read it. Some common problems with it seem to be its portrayal of women, religion, and smugness. But then the library had an audiobook version of it, and I decided to give it a go.

I absolutely ADORED the setup and first bits of this book. I loved our introduction to the Martian. I loved his simple ways and foreign viewpoints. I loved his earnestness and vulnerability and own type of innocence. I found his friend, Jill the nurse, to be a tremendously strong-willed woman. I loved the escape to Jubal’s house. I loved hearing “grok” in context. I was absolutely engrossed and fascinated. I loved watched Mike listen, absorb, and grow. So what happened? Mike the Martian has learned what he needs to at Jubal’s house and decides to leave the Nest and go out into the world.

And my enjoyment of the book began to die. First, all the interesting political posturing over Mike’s fortune is just swept to the side in a tidy bit of lawyering. Then the first place Mike decides to visit in his newer grown-up phase is the carnival? Because sure that makes sense. So Mike learns the art of the con and Jill becomes a boring archetype whose happiness about her body involves its use to seduce the viewer and to have sex with Mike and others. I have nothing against the enjoyment of sex and I don’t even have a problem with sex as used in stripping or other things. My problem is that Jill goes from an intelligent woman who loves her body to a seemingly bubble-headed woman whose only ambition is to follow Mike around in order to be surrounded by his good grace . . . and his perfect manly sex.

So in addition to touring with the carnival, Mike also decides to start a church based on the Fosterite Church portrayed in the book. Now the Fosterite “church” in the book is actually delightful in its hypocrisy. Gambling, drinking, sinning . . . it’s all okay as long as ye be gambling on the machines in the Fosterite Church while drinking the church-sponsored brand of beer and donating some of yer ill-gotten wins back to the church, etc. So Mike wants to change the world with his ideas and philosophies and decides to use a horrible selfish corporation church as basis of the mechanism to do so? WTF? What a lame cop-out. The Martian creates a cult.

And the strong women of the story continue to degrade. So the woman discover the joys of sex with a willing and thoughtful partner. Okay that’s fine. But then there is a rape and the response from I-used-to-be-intelligent-but-became-a-moron-the-first-time-I-had-good-sex Jill is “Nine times out of ten, if a girl gets raped, it’s partly her fault.” I almost stopped the book right there. Perhaps I should have. Because the Jill from the beginning of the book would not have said such a stupid thing. But it IS a masterpiece so I continued listening.

And apparently when woman become sexually free they want three things 1) to sleep with ALL the men, 2) to have babies, lots of babies, and 3) all want hetero-sexual non-monogamous relationships. Gag. I happen to think there is more to being a woman then being forced to having babies, having no standards when it comes to picking a sexual partner (any man will do?), and I don’t believe that every woman on the planet is straight. Also the woman in Jubal’s household actually sulk and are passive-aggressive about who gets to have sex with Mike until they figure out a schedule they like. Alpha male with beta jealousy-ridden females fighting over his time. Of course that is the dream of any and all American woman. And of course Mike doesn’t notice the in-fighting because he is above that. Ugh. Mike impregnates most of them. Bleh.

And then of course there is the smugness. Mike’s way is the ONLY way to be and he will be a martyr to the world that will eventually all see the way. All the people will realize that they want to live in these large sexually-free societies where there are mass orgies, cannibalism, and baby making. All will learn the true Martian language. All will believe in Mike’s church. Any who doesn’t is a prude and a waste that will be weeded out. All the men are smug and know what’s best. The women hold “positions of power” but do nothing that Mike hasn’t approved of. In fact some of the women, like Jill, actually like to have so little individuality that they begin to look like each other and switch places with each other because it doesn’t matter who has the experience. They can be filled in on the details later. Oh and they can magic themselves younger and more aesthetically pleasing. And that is supposed to be freedom for women?

The only idea I could kinda get behind is the lack of emphasis of consumerism culture. But that’s easy when Mike is so rich that money doesn’t matter and he can perform magic and get what ye want.

I would never ever want to live in the society espoused by Mike the Martian. I almost wish I had never read this mess of a book. Sure it might be a forward thinking book for a certain-type of heterosexual male-dominated society. But it’s a surprisingly backward book for me despite the hippy-free love orgies. I would say that the criticism of this book is well-founded. I was going to listen to the moon is a harsh mistress next. But I am not sure I can stomach it. And I cannot recommend this book to others. Arrrr!

The CCLaP 100: In which I read for the first time a hundred so-called "classics," then write reports on whether or not they deserve the label

Essay #66: Stranger in a Strange Land (1961), by Robert A. Heinlein

The story in a nutshell:
Conceptualized in the early 1950s, but not written and published until 1961 (supposedly so that "society could catch up with it," according to the author), Robert A. Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land is a classic example of a science-fiction (or SF) novel acting as a premonition to its real-world times, only moderately successful when it first came out but eventually a must-read touchstone among the hippies of the Countercultural Revolution a decade later. It starts with the first-ever manned mission to Mars, which because of its length was crewed only by couples, which ended tragically with the unexplained deaths of all on board; but when a second team finally arrives twenty years later, they discover that one of these couples had secretly had a baby, one Valentine Michael Smith, and that the lone survivor was raised by the insanely unhumanlike native Martians as one of their own, guaranteeing his re-introduction to the human race being as awkward as Tarzan being returned to Greystoke Manor.

And in fact, surprisingly the entire first half of this long novel is dedicated merely to the complicated legal questions that have arisen by Smith's appearance, including what powers he exactly has to grant property and mining rights to individual nations or even to commercial interests, cleverly reflecting the real debates that were going on at the time over these same questions in regards to the Soviet/US race to the Moon. And so this is how the gentle, confused man-child eventually becomes friends first with the feisty nurse Gillian Boardman at the hospital where he's being kept; then her sometimes lover, brash journalist Ben Caxton; and then Caxton's friend and one of the most memorable characters in all of modern American literature -- lawyer, doctor, curmudgeon, millionaire hack author, angry libertarian, proud sexist, sculpture collector, Poconos-mansion-owning octogenarian Jubal Harshaw*, who eventually invites the whole party to an extended stay at his secluded Austin-Powersesque compound (including a household staff straight out of a James Bond parody -- three beautiful women who also happen to be experts at office management, cooking, engine repair, high diving and more). And indeed, there's a good reason that it turns out to be such a complex battle to get Smith away from the draconian "protection" of the US government; because hey, it turns out that such "psychic abilities" as mind-reading and telekinesis are actually ho-hum scientific principles, as easily accomplished when you know what you're doing as solving a hard math problem is, just that no human had been smart enough to "crack the code" until Smith was basically raised from birth with the knowledge by the evolutionally superior Martians, skills that the US Army are awfully anxious to learn themselves.

It's when the action switches to this compound, then, that the much more famous second half begins; because with Smith being the curious, inquisitive soul that he is, of course the first thing he wants to do once gaining his "freedom" is to tramp across the country vagabond-style, exploring as much as he can about human life and sampling a wide variety of traditional and mystical religions, trying to find something that can adequately explain the curiously hippie-like belief system the Martians adhere to, and especially the all-important concept in their culture of "grokking" (not quite the simple act of understanding something, not quite religious revelation, not quite a profound connection between two living creatures, but a sort of combo of them all, impossible to fully understand unless you can actually speak Martian yourself). And indeed, this is exactly what Smith ends up doing, is creating his own religion (the Church of All Worlds) dedicated to teaching humans to speak Martian so that they can fully grok this new, enlightened way of living, which apparently also includes a nudist lifestyle and lots and lots of hot group sex…or, er, communal free love, I mean. (Man, those Martians are some real swingers.) Needless to say, this doesn't sit well with most of the other religions of the world, including the suspiciously Scientologist-like "Fosterites" who Heinlein also explores in depth in the book's second half, leading to an easily anticipated martyr-like death for our perpetually misunderstood hero; but not before Smith has a chance to let his followers know that what he's really done is kickstart the next step of human evolution, and that those who refuse to learn the new ways will eventually become as obsolete and then extinct as the Neanderthals are to us.

The argument for it being a classic:
Well, for starters, it won the prestigious Hugo Award the year it came out, with Heinlein himself the very first winner of the Grand Master Award from the Science Fiction Writers of America (in fact, when people refer to the "Big Three" SF authors of the 1960s, Heinlein is one of them, along with Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke); plus the Heinlein estate claims with some authority that this is the biggest selling SF novel of all time, with it certainly undeniable how much of an influence it's had on the culture since, including the introduction into the general lexicon not only of "grokking" but the phrase "Thou art God"**. And that's because, fans claim, Stranger in a Strange Land is a perfect example of genre fiction as metaphor, of a fantastical story that actually helps guide us in our everyday lives; that its perfect combination of humor, drama, action and philosophy preaches important lessons about self-determination, loving your neighbor (in all sorts of ways), and the facile nature of so many traditional religions, to say nothing of fringe cults that prey on the weak-minded. A landmark publication in the history of Libertarianism (and with Heinlein in general the originator of the "Libertarians in SPAAAAAACE!" trope now so common in science-fiction), fans say that its lessons of thinking for yourself and rejecting bureaucratic BS couldn't be more timely, the rare book that can be positively cited by both the Tea Party and the Occupy movement; the fact that it almost single-handedly pushed the entire SF industry into mainstream respectability is mere icing on the cake, simply an external sign of just how important this novel is.

The argument against:
Ahem. "Oh, are you freaking kidding me, you stupid grokking hippie trash?" That's an attitude you heard from a lot of people in the years after this book first came out; and while the vitriol has calmed down some in the 51 years since, it still remains the most effective argument against it, that this silly ode to long-hair orgies and Stickin' It To The Man isn't nearly as well-written or as important as its fans claim, and that it mostly has the reputation it does merely because Heinlein was damned lucky to have put it out right at the exact moment in history when mainstream society was most clamoring for a story like this (an accusation we've heard before in this essay series, don't forget, when we were discussing Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer). And this didn't get any better at all, they claim, even after Heinlein's widow in 1991 managed to get over 60,000 words from the original manuscript put back into the official bookstore version, after originally being cut in the early '60s for being "too scandalous;" because almost all of this cut material happens to be from the novel's infuriatingly repetitive and digressive second half, with literally hundreds of pages in the modern edition now dedicated to dated, rambling explanations of this group's adherence to free love, public nudity, water-based sharing rituals, and the importance of being "one with the universe" (that is, when you're not violently raging against the commies, capitalists, and other SOBs who are trying to steal away all your personal liberties -- oops, sorry, Heinlein apologists, did I just poke a hole in your precious little peacenik logic? Sorry about that!). And besides, say his critics, Heinlein was a cantankerous sexist and military booster who may or may not have been a fan of certain ideas commonly associated with fascism (but see Starship Troopers for a lot more on that), so you're officially forgiven for not buying into his luvey-duvey New Age charlatanism.

My verdict:
So for those who aren't familiar already with the fine points of SF history, perhaps it's best to start with the following to understand my thoughts today about Stranger in a Strange Land -- that between the early days of this genre, when it was considered good for not much more than empty kiddie crap, and our own post-Star Wars age when we just take it for granted that a genre project can have millions of fans and generate billions of dollars, there was a perfect storm in the 1950s and '60s (aka "Mid-Century Modernism") when an obsession with rationality and philosophy, a weariness over dogma-fueled wars, the explosive birth of the Electronic Age, and the sudden maturing of American literature all came together in a glorious mess in the world of science-fiction, a "coming of age" moment in which the genre was suddenly the single hottest thing in the entirety of the arts; and Heinlein had a huge role in helping to make this happen, demonstrably the very first genre author in history to get published regularly in conservative, mainstream, middle-class publications like The Saturday Evening Post, and also one of the first people in history to write SF stories where the fantastical science was simply a given, the stories themselves exploring the more underlying human-interest subjects that would naturally come with such innovations (now known as "social science fiction," and again not reaching its true apex until the Countercultural Era a decade later).

So for Heinlein to put something as shocking and subversive as this out in the Kennedy years, after having a following of millions for his generally suburban-safe post-WW2 "juvenilia," was very much like the Beatles putting out "Sgt. Pepper" a mere three years later; a game-changer, in other words, not just a new project but a literal gauntlet that forced other writers to catch up, a line in the sand that served as an easy litmus test in those years to determine whether someone could "dig it" or not. And indeed, reading it for the first time a half-century later, this is still a very funny, thought-provoking and above all highly entertaining novel, full of intelligence and wit and great surprises; and sure, its critics have a point, that the second half does get bogged down occasionally with Heinlein's love for pontification (plus overly detailed descriptions of hippie orgies), but in an era that gave us Walden Two and Atlas Shrugged, it's important that we be more forgiving of this than we would with a contemporary novel, and understand that overblown philosophical treaties disguised as genre actioners are actually one of the most charming things about Mid-Century Modernist literature in general. Granted, this book inspired a lot of awfulness after the fact, not least of which is the entire trope of "Brilliantly Advanced Space Alien Who Acts Like Sweet Guileless Mentally Challenged Man Child Merely Because He Doesn't Yet Understand The Dirty Ways Of Our Flawed World" (see E.T., Starman, K-PAX, The Man Who Fell to Earth, ad nauseum); but in general, this is exactly as groundbreaking and still inspirational as its fans claim, and I have no hesitation today in declaring it a literary classic that everyone should read at least once before they die, a title that I'm convinced is just going to become more and more important as the years continue. It comes strongly recommended to one and all, as long as you approach it with a little patience and forgiveness, just as you should with all Mid-Century Modernist genre novels.

Is it a classic? Yes

(And don't forget that the first 33 essays in this series are now available in book form!)

*And hey, yeah, just how autobiographical is good ol' Jubal? He sure looks and talks like Heinlein, after all; and in fact many have argued that the main character in this novel is not Smith but rather Harshaw himself, and that the entire Martian premise is just a thinly veiled excuse for Heinlein to essentially rant for several hundred pages on the subjects of women's lib, artists who receive state money, out-of-control central governments, and how much he hates each and every one of them. But on the other hand, genre editor and Heinlein friend David G. Hartwell has said before that Harshaw was based on mystery author and "Perry Mason" creator Erle Stanley Gardner, who like Jubal was a prickly former lawyer who got filthy rich off an endless series of hacky pulp novels.

**And speaking of its impact on the real world, here's an amazing piece of trivia I came across that didn't fit well into the main essay: that a year after the book first came out, a man who now goes by Oberon Zell-Ravenheart started a very real church modeled after Smith's fictional one, which like the novel adhered to a strict policy of hedonism and Do What You Want. And they're still in operation!

I gave it 4 stars for memory's sake. Now the folks at Syfy are adapting for TV! Amazing to me that, once considered too racy for publication unexpurgated, it's now a TV-able property. For all its many faults, I'm glad Society has caught up with Heinlein's libertarian 'tude towards sex.

http://www.ew.com/article/2016/11/15/...

I decided to give it more of a review at Expendable Mudge Muses Aloud: https://tinyurl.com/hwov3qm

seminal.

also: legit-legit crazy.

but important on too many levels to ignore.

it was the right book at the right time—fifty years ago.

it shaped my earliest musings on the nature of sexuality and the path towards a future that didn't compel me to get my dick sucked in random alleyways and decrepit porn theaters after school—while still making it back home in time for family ties; never mind the pointed exclusion of homosexuality from heinlein's philosophical flatulence.

appallingly dated ideas about women; incredibly forward-thinking ideas about women also.

which means he knew what he was doing, didn't he, old heinlein.

read jareed: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

...and keep something fling-able to hand, just in case.

For me, it would be a more apt title if it were “Strangeness in a Strange Book.” Of all the books I’ve read on the list so far [and I’ve skipped around, been reading them as I can find them], I enjoyed this one the least. Overall, I was enjoying the ideas the book was putting forth about religion and politics and community prior to Mike’s intellectual ascent [descent?] as a Man rather than a Martian. I was extra disappointed with it because the premise the book set up in Sections One and Two seemed very interesting and then, somehow, everything became weirdly psychedelic and communist with a side of evangelicalism thrown in.

Once he became Man, I became more and more uncomfortable with the book. I don’t know. Maybe I’m repressed, but I doubt it. Some of it probably stems from the fact that I didn’t live through the Free Love Era and the boom of Communism. Both have always been, for me, fabulous ideas that did not work; so to read about them working seems both contrived and naïve. Some of it also stems from the fact that I think Heinlein wanted to think he had some insight into the sexual feelings of women and I think he missed the mark by a long shot. Of course, you can’t win many points with me when one of your main female characters says, “Nine times out of ten, if a girl gets raped, it’s partly her fault.” [pg. 304] Plus, I’m not into losing my individuality, regardless of whether or not it makes me a member of a peaceful society.

I had the brilliant idea while reading this book to put in little markers about what I wanted to talk about. Unfortunately, it’s now about 2 months since I finished it and I no longer remember why I put the markers on some pages. I marked the section where Mr. Heinlein points out the ritualistic cannibalism in Christianity, but I forget what point I was going to make about it. I also marked the passage about Jubal’s feelings towards Fosterites and other Earthly religions. I think Heinlein was using Jubal as the adherent to Science as a religion, setting up all belief systems currently at work on Earth, pre-Martian Man, to be resolved under the power of human mental oneness i.e. “grok.” I put a marker on a page that used “grok” a lot and I think it was to remind myself to make the same point Liz made about “grok” sticking in her head and becoming really annoying. [Just wait till Ringworld for new words that will stick in your head.]

At one point in the book, I stuck a Post-It note on which I wrote, “I suppose I take it for granted that reading comprehension requires a certain level of knowledge and a certain level of common sense.” The pages to which it was stuck referenced things like Julius Caesar, the S.S., and Hemophiliacs. I realized that if I didn’t know what those things were a lot of this book would not make sense to me. It wasn’t just Stranger in a Strange Land that cause this revelation though. I was reading Ulysses by James Joyce at the same time, and, if it hadn’t been for my love of Irish ballads and history, I would really have had NO CLUE what half that book was about.

I’m always intrigued by the levels of future advancement presented in sci-fi. It’s very interesting to see what predictions have come to pass, what things are still distant dreams for us, and what things are totally wrong. On pg. 229, Heinlein mentions a star exploding and Earth not noticing. Right before I read that, I’d just finished reading an article in the Smithsonian about how astronomers have systems set up to alert them when a super nova is occurring so that they can observe the gamma ray bursts. But we still don’t have flying cars.

Very 1960s counterculture (grok, seriously?). Very weird.

Heinlein was kind of gross in his old age.