Take a photo of a barcode or cover
adunten 's review for:
The Star Beast
by Robert A. Heinlein
“We'll make great pets, we'll make great pets...” – Porno for Pyros
Robert Heinlein writes a fun, readable, engaging adventure like few others, when he doesn't get too caught up in whatever Big Idea is on his mind at the moment. He does a great job here.
One of the themes that comes up again and again in The Star Beast is the idea that even though a person may not be fully adult, that person still has a fundamental right to self-determination, and that the well-meaning parent can be an unknowing tyrant. We see it here in Johnny's struggles with his mother, and in Betty, who outright divorced her parents and is an emancipated minor. It's mentioned she lives in a special group home for emancipated minors that functions a lot like a college dorm, which suggests this procedure is not uncommon. And we see it when Lummox turns out to be We also see a variant of the power dynamic in the dealings of Earth with the Hroshi - to the Hroshi, we are far less than children, of no more significance than ants, but Kiku, as representative of Earth, defiantly stands his ground and demands to be taken seriously and not dictated to, even at the risk of destruction.
This ties into the fundamental idea of personhood itself. At what point is a being – any being – entitled to self-determination? The characters struggle with determining if Lummox is really a person with rights, or just a dumb animal that can mimic human speech, and it turns out nearly all of their initial assumptions about Lummox were wrong. It becomes considerably less clear as the story goes on just who is keeping whom as a pet. But these themes aren't so heavy-handed that they drag the story down. Mostly, it's just a fun adventure.
Let's deal with the Lummox in the room: Heinlein was a sexist douchebag, he was par for the course for 1950s science fiction writers, and as many amazing things as he could imagine, envisioning women who did things other than being “someone's mother/sister/girlfriend/daughter/secretary” wasn't one of them. But he does get close at the very end of the book when You know going in there will be very few female characters who matter, and either you can deal with it or you can't. As annoying as it is, I say don't let it cause you to miss out on an otherwise fun read with a lot of interesting ideas in it. I actually give him props for imagining, in 1954, a Kenyan, Henry Kiku, as a central and important character in the story who wields considerable political power, is unquestionably wise, subtle, and crafty, and doesn't come off as a caricature.
It might be fair to say Heinlein also pioneered the trope of the “manic pixie dream girl,” as this character recurs in his books, here in the form of Johnny's girlfriend Betty Sorensen. She's pretty (a must), fearsomely smart and quick-witted (“A head on her very nearly as good as a man,” Johnny is heard to muse), confident to the point of cockiness, devious at a nearly Machiavellian level, independent to the point of cussedness (but she'll think nothing of following her man 900 lightyears from home). Johnny is simultaneously protective, confused, irritated, and dazzled by her. I think you could say this is a paradigm that characterizes the relations of men and women throughout a lot of Heinlein's world.
But Betty simmers down and does what she's told at odd moments. As smart and confident as she is, she still lives in a 1950s world where women don't get ahead the way men do – instead, the key to a woman getting ahead is to keep the menfolk charmed and indulgent, and when your display of smarts and confidence isn't charming anymore, it's time to switch to an equally manipulative display of meekness and obedience. This may seem cute and harmless at some level, and is a classic example of “feminine wiles,” but it becomes a lot less cute when you realize it's a time-honored technique the powerless and oppressed use to deal with their oppressors. When you don't have the power to simply demand what you want and have a reasonable expectation of getting it or at least being taken seriously, you have to resort to “dishonest” tactics like ingratiating, charming, wheedling, distraction, emotional manipulation, and outright deceit. These are the tools of those without more direct forms of power. It's depressing how true this still can still be for women in the world of 2017.
Audio Notes: I'm not normally a fan of full cast audiobooks, but this one is very well done. The pace is so slow, though, that for the very first time, I listened to an entire audiobook on my player's Fast setting. It makes everyone sound slightly cartoonish, but then that actually feels just right for this story. It DOES feel kind of cartoonish... in the best way. My indelible mental image of Betty is as a dark-haired Judy Jetson.
Robert Heinlein writes a fun, readable, engaging adventure like few others, when he doesn't get too caught up in whatever Big Idea is on his mind at the moment. He does a great job here.
One of the themes that comes up again and again in The Star Beast is the idea that even though a person may not be fully adult, that person still has a fundamental right to self-determination, and that the well-meaning parent can be an unknowing tyrant. We see it here in Johnny's struggles with his mother, and in Betty, who outright divorced her parents and is an emancipated minor. It's mentioned she lives in a special group home for emancipated minors that functions a lot like a college dorm, which suggests this procedure is not uncommon. And we see it when Lummox turns out to be
Spoiler
a juvenile of her own species, who then has her own power struggle with the adults when they show up to fetch her home for an arranged marriage, but she doesn't feel like going.This ties into the fundamental idea of personhood itself. At what point is a being – any being – entitled to self-determination? The characters struggle with determining if Lummox is really a person with rights, or just a dumb animal that can mimic human speech, and it turns out nearly all of their initial assumptions about Lummox were wrong. It becomes considerably less clear as the story goes on just who is keeping whom as a pet. But these themes aren't so heavy-handed that they drag the story down. Mostly, it's just a fun adventure.
Let's deal with the Lummox in the room: Heinlein was a sexist douchebag, he was par for the course for 1950s science fiction writers, and as many amazing things as he could imagine, envisioning women who did things other than being “someone's mother/sister/girlfriend/daughter/secretary” wasn't one of them. But he does get close at the very end of the book when
Spoiler
Kiku remarks to Betty, “I'm surprised YOU didn't ask to be ambassador.”It might be fair to say Heinlein also pioneered the trope of the “manic pixie dream girl,” as this character recurs in his books, here in the form of Johnny's girlfriend Betty Sorensen. She's pretty (a must), fearsomely smart and quick-witted (“A head on her very nearly as good as a man,” Johnny is heard to muse), confident to the point of cockiness, devious at a nearly Machiavellian level, independent to the point of cussedness (but she'll think nothing of following her man 900 lightyears from home). Johnny is simultaneously protective, confused, irritated, and dazzled by her. I think you could say this is a paradigm that characterizes the relations of men and women throughout a lot of Heinlein's world.
But Betty simmers down and does what she's told at odd moments. As smart and confident as she is, she still lives in a 1950s world where women don't get ahead the way men do – instead, the key to a woman getting ahead is to keep the menfolk charmed and indulgent, and when your display of smarts and confidence isn't charming anymore, it's time to switch to an equally manipulative display of meekness and obedience. This may seem cute and harmless at some level, and is a classic example of “feminine wiles,” but it becomes a lot less cute when you realize it's a time-honored technique the powerless and oppressed use to deal with their oppressors. When you don't have the power to simply demand what you want and have a reasonable expectation of getting it or at least being taken seriously, you have to resort to “dishonest” tactics like ingratiating, charming, wheedling, distraction, emotional manipulation, and outright deceit. These are the tools of those without more direct forms of power. It's depressing how true this still can still be for women in the world of 2017.
Audio Notes: I'm not normally a fan of full cast audiobooks, but this one is very well done. The pace is so slow, though, that for the very first time, I listened to an entire audiobook on my player's Fast setting. It makes everyone sound slightly cartoonish, but then that actually feels just right for this story. It DOES feel kind of cartoonish... in the best way. My indelible mental image of Betty is as a dark-haired Judy Jetson.