This book is controversial. Says so right there on the cover - "The Controversial Classic of Military Adventure!" A quick look at its Wikipedia page seems to support this, claiming that the book has been criticized for its literary merit, its support of the military, up to and including fascism, racism, utopianism, and gods knows what else. What is certainly true is that it's a book that is guaranteed to make someone, somewhere very angry.In the unspecified future, humanity has taken to the stars. In our efforts to colonize planets that are hospitable to us, we have spread as far and as wide as possible. Unfortunately, this has brought us into direct contact with alien races who are not entirely keen on sharing land with us, and, as we have always done, we are willing to fight, bleed and die for every inch of it.Our main enemy is the Bugs, whose proper name we never actually learn, and they are a vicious enemy indeed. They possess a hive mind, made up of Soldiers, Workers and Brains. The Soldiers are, of course, the most dangerous, not least because they have no individual sense of self-preservation. Unlike the human soldiers, who value their comrades and brothers-in-arms highly, the Bugs will never go back for a fallen comrade and never consider the safety of their own when prosecuting a campaign against the humans. In other words, the Bugs truly are alien to us, and therefore need to be eliminated.The story follows a young man, Juan Rico, in his journey from enlisted grunt in the Mobile Infantry to Officer in the Terran Federation. Through his eyes, we learn about the technological lengths that we have gone to in order to be able to fight the Bugs. First among these is the powered armor that the Mobile Infantry wears - an all-purpose exoskeletal suit that vastly increases its wearer's speed and strength, in addition to providing him with instant contact with his squadmates and vital information that he needs to fight the enemy. Humanity in the future has made great strides in terms of warfare, all out of need to defeat the Bugs.You might be forgiven, then, for thinking that this was a grand military adventure. That we would feel the thrill and terror of a young military recruit as he experiences a universe larger and wilder than he ever could have imagined. You would be wrong.Not entirely wrong, of course. If you read it right, you can infer the newness and strangeness of the circumstances that Juan Rico finds himself in. But this book isn't about Juan Rico, even though he is the narrator. In fact, we don't even learn his proper name until nearly two-thirds of the book is finished. Before then he's just "Johnnie," which is one of the most generic soldier names out there. Juan Rico is so irrelevant to the story that we don't even find out that English isn't his native tongue until three pages before the end of the book. Juan Rico is nothing more than a cipher in this tale, about as important to the content of Starship Troopers as Glaucon is to The Republic.In the classic tale of Socrates, the philosopher talks about justice and politics and society, with his wisdom inspired by a question-and-answer session with his students. Somehow, the students always manage to ask just the right questions to allow Socrates to expound on his theories, and they're usually wrong in just the right ways to make Socrates look smart. So it is with Starship Troopers.Juan Rico is the means by which Robert Heinlein is able to put forth his opinions on war and society, politics, citizenship, crime, child-rearing and, of course, military service. Instead of writing a series of straightforward essays, unfortunately, he decided to make his readers slog through Starship Troopers.This book is a love letter to the military and all it stands for. Not just war and death and destruction, of course, but also loyalty, sacrifice and devotion to duty. It is an examination into why people become soldiers, why some succeed and others fail, and about the historical importance of the soldier class in human history. It's about war as a tool of diplomacy, both in its startling effectiveness and its unfortunate inevitability, as well as the importance of the chain of command and proper military discipline. It's about the comradeship of veterans and the lessons they learn during the service. There's a good reason why this book is on the reading lists for both the Navy and the Marines.What it is not about is any of the characters that are actually involved in the story. The only reason Juan Rico is who he is is because he is not someone else. He could have been Buddy St. Germaine or Phil Waxman or Marvin Crumplebottom and the story would have read exactly the same: son of a rich businessman who enlists in the armed forces just to tweak his father, learns a whole host of Valuable Lessons (tm) and eventually discovers his calling. There is absolutely nothing about Juan Rico than makes him any more interesting than any other character except that he happens to be the narrator of the story.If that were all, I might be able to let this book slide as just thinly-veiled military fetishism. But honestly, there's no veil there at all. The story stops in several places while Heinlein uses his characters as mouthpieces to tell us how he thinks society should be run. Ancillary characters - students, subordinate soldiers - ask just the right questions or are wrong in just the right ways so that Heinlein, much like Plato speaking through Socrates, can make the points he wants to make.Juan's professor, retired Lt. Colonel Dubois, and the other lecturers repeatedly point to the 20th century as a model of how not to govern, happily cherry-picking some of the worst results of our system of government and holding them up as the inevitable result of a society that is not run by veterans. For that is how he sees the best of all possible states - one in which only veterans are full citizens and in which only veterans can run the country. The logic being that only someone who has voluntarily enlisted and served in the military is able to truly put the needs of society before his own, and is therefore the best person to run a country. Heinlein, through his fictional avatars, then goes on to show how much more superior the Terran Federation is to its more democratic predecessors and how stupid we were not to see the obvious truth.The message, then, is that the reader is stupid if he or she does not agree with Heinlein. The ancillary characters who challenge Heinlein's thesis are written as obvious idiots and are roundly insulted and abused by their superiors, which effectively becomes Heinlein abusing his readers.In addition, Heinlein sets up so many straw men to knock down that it gets tiresome. Juan's father, for example, is almost stereotypical as a foil to Dubois. Mr. Rico is rich and aloof and sees the military as nothing more than a bunch of violent thugs who have outlived their usefulness. The first time we see him, he is a snob and a jerk, and Juan's decision to piss him off by joining is almost inevitable. The next time we see Mr. Rico, of course, he has joined the Mobile Infantry himself, and has seen the error of his ways.Other members of the cast are overtly written to embody certain themes in Heinlein's opinion of military rule, both positive and negative. Private Hendrick, for example, is a constant complainer, one who stands up for himself during boot camp and just barely escapes a hanging. He is not disciplined enough to be a soldier, and by extension a citizen, and therefore serves as a warning to others. Sergeant Zim [1:], on the other hand, is the consummate soldier - hard on his charges in boot camp, yet as concerned about them as a father would be to his sons. Zim, along with an array of Lieutenants, Captains and other officers, serve as blatant father-substitutes for Juan Rico, with all of the qualities that one would want in a father and absolutely none of the drawbacks. If anything, their only flaws are that they are too concerned about their soldiers.While reading, I wondered if maybe Heinlein was being sarcastic. If perhaps he was trying to demonstrate the true folly of military fetishism by taking it to its ultimate extreme. I have to admit, I didn't disagree with all of his ideas. His thoughts on juvenile delinquency, for example, really struck a chord in me - he maintains that treating young offenders as rational adults who can learn from their crimes is foolishness since, like puppies, young people are not inherently rational and have not yet learned the difference between right and wrong. The term "juvenile delinquent," he maintains, is an oxymoron, since a juvenile has not yet been able to learn of his duty to others, and therefore cannot be delinquent. To treat him as if he were is to fatally misunderstand human nature.And I think there is a grain of truth to the idea that someone who willingly puts her or his life and body on the line for his or her fellow citizens might indeed have the perspective necessary to govern a country. I would point out, however, that this argument rests on a flawed assumption - that service automatically confers selflessness. There may be correlation, but causation is not yet proven.But I don't think he's being sarcastic. The themes and ideas in this book resonate with those that permeate his other books. What's more, Dubois sounds like Jubal Harshaw, Lazarus Long and Professor De la Paz - other characters from other books who all served as mouthpieces for the author's political and social philosophies. And this is what makes Heinlein's books so special - he is not afraid to stand up for his ideas and put them right there on the page for the reader to see.It is not so much Heinlein's ideas that I object to in this book, even if I do disagree with many of them. It is his presentation of those ideas that bothers me. Flawed logical methods presented as irrefutable discourse, transparent characters with no life beyond their purpose as object lessons, and a dissertation on military supremacy that is just barely disguised as a science fiction novel. It is written from the presumption that the writer is right and the reader is, from the first page, completely and utterly wrong.I think the ideas that Heinlein presents in this book are important, and they are worthy of discussion. I just wish he had held his readers in a little higher esteem when he decided to discuss them.[1:] As a side note, the entire boot camp sequence is much, much more entertaining if you read Sgt. Zim with the voice of Invader Zim. It exponentially improves the book.
My first impulse is to dismiss it as an appalling piece of militaristic propaganda, whose one saving grace is that it's at least much better than the movie. But that wouldn't be doing the book justice. With all its faults, I simply loved it as a 14 year old, and I'm in no way alone there. Why is it so fascinating?Let me start by dismissing a couple of possible theories. One reviewer wonders if it's deadpan satire. I suppose, when you see some of Heinlein's later books (Stranger in a Strange Land, 1961; I Will Fear No Evil, 1970), you may get the idea that he's some kind of hippy New Age prophet, and that Starship Troopers is poking fun at the militaristic right. I don't think that idea stands up to serious examination. Many of Heinlein's early books extol militaristic right-wing/libertarian virtues; Sixth Column (1949) is a particularly flagrant example. From what I've heard, the "satire" theory is in fact the reverse of the truth. Stranger in a Strange Land was originally conceived as a satire; Heinlein was surprised to see that people liked it and read it straight, and, more flexible than he's often made out, he rewrote it that way and followed it up with a couple of similar books.Many more people are taking Starship Troopers at face value, and appreciate how it presents the military in a positive light. Well, there's clearly something to that. But why does this book, as opposed to many others, do such a fantastic job of selling this particular point of view? If you're a soldier yourself, I can see that Heinlein, also a soldier, can make you proud of what you're doing. But my parents were strict believers in non-violence, and I've never had any contact with that world at all. I still thought it was great.So, on mature consideration, here's another theory, which I claim relates better to Heinlein's oeuvre as a whole. (By the way, I'm only saying "oeuvre" because I know it would annoy him). One theme that he keeps returning to over and over again, in different forms, is the relationship between the self and the rest of the universe. Heinlein's metaphysics were distinctly odd: he wasn't sure that he liked the rest of the universe much, or even if it existed in the first place. You can occasionally see this idea presented in a straightforward way. In his short story They (1941), it turns out that the paranoid main character is completely right about what's going on. He's the most important person in the world; everyone else, for reasons never revealed, is involved in a gigantic conspiracy against him, whose main purpose is to prevent him from discovering who he really is. In The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag (1942), we find, again, that things truly aren't as they seem, and that all existence is illusory. The world, we learn at the end, is a work of art, and can be changed at any moment. Hoag is in fact an art critic, sent to judge us on aesthetic grounds. And in the classic time-travel story All You Zombies (1959), the hero discovers that he's his own father and mother. As he says, he knows where he came from; but where did all you zombies come from? The final paragraph gives us to understand that other people may not exist at all.As we see, Heinlein rather likes solipsism, which, when you come down to it, isn't as ridiculous a philosophical position as you might think. (Wittgenstein: the solipsist is saying something sensible, but chooses an odd way to express it). Heinlein has a strong sense of self, and wants to erect a barrier, as tangible as possible, between him and the rest of the world. A powerful metaphor for this barrier, which he used many times, is the space suit. Have Space Suit, Will Travel (1958) is not one of his best books, but the descriptions of what it's like to walk around in a space suit are quite good. I remember them clearly, when most of the rest of the story has faded. Similarly, Space Cadet (1948), which I read at primary school, is hastily written and uninspired; but again, the only scene I can recall clearly is the one where the teenage hero throws up in his space suit after inadvisedly drinking a mint julep. I was so impressed by this that I didn't dare try a mint julep myself until I was in my mid-40s. I hope you see where I'm going. What makes Starship Troopers so effective, I claim, is the space suit theme, which here is taken to its logical conclusion. The Mobile Infantry Suit simultaneously cuts off its wearer from the rest of the world, and makes him almost invincible. It's no coincidence that the stunning opening scene highlights the suit's amazing capabilities. The hero is dropped directly from space onto a hostile planet, and spreads mayhem with his high-tech weapons while jumping a mile at a time in his jet-propelled boots - all without needing to touch anything directly, or feel involved in the fates of the humanoid creatures he's killing by the hundred. Fans of the book uniformly hated the movie: for budget reasons, Verhoeven took out the suits, which were too complicated to render effectively. After that, everything felt wrong. The most important part of the imagery was missing. As already noted, Heinlein wasn't writing a satire - he appeared to believe in this stuff - but I think he found a good way to dramatize what it means to be a member of the American military-industrial complex. The Suit gives its wearer superhuman technological powers, while excluding the rest of the world to the point where it barely exists at all. And the power the Suit confers isn't just military, but also political and moral. In Heinlein's world, one only becomes a full citizen after serving in the military. I don't agree that this is a desirable way to organize a society, but Heinlein was describing what he saw: in 1959, Eisenhower, a former general, was nearing the end of his second term, and would be succeeded by Kennedy, a decorated war hero. Both were very popular.Now, of course, things have changed, and the military-industrial complex is usually cast as the villain. In Avatar, I couldn't help thinking that the robotic exoskeleton worn by the evil Colonel Quaritch in the final scene was rather like the Mobile Infantry Suit; the Colonel's defeat, as many people have pointed out, can be read as predicting the impending defeat of American Imperialism at the hands of a resurgent Third World. I do wonder what Heinlein would have made of that.
What do You think about Starship Troopers (1987)?
Where do I even begin? For starters, I should let the reader know that I'm not basing my score on the politics of the book (as laughable as I think they are) but on the plot of the book, or rather the complete lack of a plot in the book. While things do happen, some of them pretty big, Mr. Heinlein has seen fit that we should not be party to any of those things. Instead, he saves the most loving descriptions for daily life at boot camp. Seventy, yes seventy, pages of a two hundred-odd page book are dedicated to boot camp. Within those pages we learn the importance of food, and being able to sleep in any condition. Thrill to the excitment of marching into the middle of nowhere! You will weep and wail along with the officers when you hear them lament the fact that they are compelled, nay forced, to flog their men when they misbehave. Honestly, you could watch the beginning of Full Metal Jacket and skip reading that whole part and save yourself some time, and be more entertained in the meantime. Next you're treated to an extended flashback where a teacher (who is quite obviously channelling the author) lectures his students (representing the reader) about the major reason for the downfall of society in the past (today!). What one overarching reason is responsible for the collapse of society? Massive energy crisis? Economic collapse? Political anarchy? WRONG!!! It's because people listened to psychiatrists and didn't spank their children enough! The secret to an orderly society is corporal punishment, and lots of it! It does make me wonder about the particular proclivities of the author, but that's neither here nor there.So now that our main character, Johnny Rico, is a full-fledged soldier we can finally get to some action after half the book is already finished, right? No. No, no, no, a thousand times no. You will not see action in this book that is advertised to be about killing gigantic outer space bugs. Instead, you will be treated to the doldrums of a soldier that isn't busy killing things. Guard duty! Sleeping! Maintaining weapons and space armor! Dinner and its various protocols! Even his time off gets more detail than all the fighting Rico participates in combined! The typical description for a battle will go like this: "We dropped on this planet to smash things up. Boy, what a mess that was. This guy died. These ones got hurt." Then Rico goes to officer training school where we get more detail about learning things! And another lecture from another teacher to his students about why soldiers should be the only ones to handle government affairs! Then we get told how battallions are broken down into platoons and squads and such forth! Finally we get to the end which turns into one of the biggest anticlimaxes I've ever had the misfortune of reading. You'll get what feels like five hours of blabbing about setting up patrol and coordinates streamed endlessly at you, some thrilling detail on hypnotically suggested sleep, and then a blessed five seconds of actual confrontation with something! Then it's over before you even know it started. The end.I realize that the life of a soldier is probably pretty accurately portrayed in the book, days upon days of boring drudgery with a few moments of life-and-death craziness, but that doesn't necessarily make for a particularly interesting book. At least not the way it's depicted here.Don't be fooled by the first ten pages of the book, which actually contain more action than the other hundred and ninety. What you're getting when you get this book is only one step away from a military training manual, only with some references to outer space and aliens tossed in along with a couple crazy rightwing ravings as the chocolatey syrup to go on top of the whole crappy sundae. Don't fall for the hype, pass on this book.And yes, the movie is better. It's stupid and fun. The book is just stupid.
—Lucas
I wanted to like this book, but there was so little plot. The little plot that was given was only a segway to a rant on military living or very thinly vealed social commentary. I don't mind science fiction having social relevance, but it should no be so blatantly presented as a teacher's class room lecture. The book is only 200 pages long and I would say only about 45 pages of it had anything to do with a plot. The rest was a continuous rant. I didn't disagree with all of the authors objections. It was interesting to hear him reference the "old North American" society being afraid to walk around at night because the children had gotten out of control and had formed gangs and assaulted people. How interesting that a book written in 1959 would see something so closely happening in our society now. Other then that.... pure rant.
—Jason
Robert A. Heinlein’s Starship Troopers did nothing for me. Its cover advertises controversy and boasts of the exciting journey of Johnnie Rico through the intergalactic military camp of the future. It sounded promising; unfortunately, I was not awed or entertained. If anything, I was pleased the novel was a quick read so that I could more readily set it aside.To follow a character through the ups and downs of boot camp and warfare and to revel in his victories and sympathize with his failings, it’s nearly essential that you like him. Or, for the opposite effect, hate him. I neither liked nor hated Johnnie. I was completely indifferent as to his plight. It just didn’t seem like he had much of a character at all. Maybe Heilein left him underdeveloped because he was going for a sort of Everyman approach. If he was, it was ineffective. If he wasn’t, it was still ineffective.Next, the novel seemed to be constantly moving to a climactic ending that it never reached. Sure, the last chapter was a nice wrap-up and finished a nice cycle to connect it to the beginning of the story (and I do love that structuring), but all the training for warfare and battle and the one great war scene was cut short and lacked any real action. Johnnie spent pages and pages training, but the reader never gets to see him master what he learned. It’s like watching the Karate Kid practice that Crane Kick for an hour without seeing his victory at the end.Admittedly, my predisposition toward war did not especially jive with the ideas that Heinlein’s book seems to present. When I read a war book, I wanna read The Red Badge of Courage or some equivalent that critiques the devastation of war, rather than pages and pages of dialogue in which characters argue for a state ruled by soldiers, support a "colonize them before they colonize us" policy, and praise cruel and unusual punishment. It all seems to scream satire, but when the dialogue is compounded by the author’s apathetic treatment of death the dreams of satire fade away. (Apparently the movie satirizes the book, but I haven’t watched it yet.)So maybe if my vision of the perfect future included military rule, maybe I would like Starship Troopers. But it doesn’t. And I don’t.I picked out this quote but I’m the wishful thinker that it insults:“Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst. Breeds that forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedoms” (Colonel Dubois).
—Melissa Rudder
