Double Star by Robert A. Heinlein - a review with spoilers

It's difficult to say much about this particular book without giving away the overall plot and outcome, so I'm putting spoiler warnings up in lights here.

Read on...

... if that is not a concern.

Double Star is one of four novels to have won Hugo Awards for Heinlein. The others were Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land, and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Whatever their particular faults, all four are among the classics of the science fiction genre. They were published over a period of about a decade (1956 for Double Star to 1966 for The Moon is a Harsh Mistress), and this was the period when Heinlein was a truly dominant force in SF. For those familiar with his work, think how diverse these four books (and others published during the same period) are.

While the title might suggest engagement with vast astronomical objects, that is misleading - as are some of Heinlein's other book titles, such as The Star Beast. Double Star is about an actor who is called on to impersonate a politician who has been kidnapped, and who, after being released, suffers serious illness. The words "double star" can be read in various ways, but of course the actor thinks of himself as something of a "star", and he is a double for the politician. There is plenty of room to take this idea further, though I don't know exactly what Heinlein and his publishers had in mind. At any rate, even when we're in the know, there's a small frisson of pleasure in the contrast between what might be immediately connoted by such a title and what the book actually gives us.

The story is narrated in the first person by the actor - Lawrence Smith, also known as the Great Lorenzo - who is called on to play the role of political leader John Joseph Bonforte. At least on its face, the book uses first-person narration in the classic way: to present the story of someone who has survived life-changing experiences and is now reflecting on them, as well as merely recounting them, from a position of greater knowledge and wisdom than when he began.

Such narratives can also, notoriously, raise questions about the reliability of narrators, how much they have really learned, and so on. Often, an author can give us subtle, or not so subtle, clues about a narrator's unreliability. First-person narratives can also be ambiguous or unstable, insofar as the narrator may actually have learned, and yet we're given intimations of the limits to what has been learned, and that he or she has a (possibly long) way to go.

There are interpretations of Double Star along these more complex lines, but I'm somewhat resistant to them. I just don't think the book is all that complicated, much as it is intelligent and well executed. The narrator starts out as a clever, but also vain and shallow, man who eventually matures - becoming trapped in his role, but also obtaining a degree of wisdom and depth, and certain satisfactions (not least, ultimately marrying the woman who was in love with Bonforte when the story began). Most of the events portrayed take place during a relatively short period in Lawrence's life when he made the switch to (more or less) becoming Bonforte. However, Bonforte dies, the switch becomes permanent, and it becomes clear at the end of the novel that Lawrence is telling us the story from a perspective twenty-five years later. That's probably complicated enough.

Interestingly, there is little in the action that requires a futuristic scenario. A very similar story could have been told involving only events and political machinations on Earth and in the present. I.e., the story could have been a mainstream political and psychological thriller with little adjustment.

True, the political intrigue involves relations between humans and extraterrestrial aliens, but this is quite explicitly analogous to the relations of imperialist Europeans and colonised peoples. Part of Bonforte's political platform is anti-imperialist, in that he favours expansion into space in a way that involves some kind of inclusivity among all intelligent life forms, rather than a kind of speciesist human imperialism.

However, this is secondary to the story's focus on Lawrence's predicament and how he responds to it. Really, almost any vaguely idealistic political viewpoint would have been just as effective for the purpose: all that's needed is that Bonforte's views and (vaguely evoked) policies not be ones that readers would find repellent. If they had been, that would have created a very different and more sombre book (think, perhaps, of Kurt Vonnegut's Mother Night). As a result, Double Star does, indeed, seem to endorse Bonforte's ideals, and in doing so it contains something of an anti-imperialist message, but at the same time there is a sense that this is not what is important; it is not what is really going on, thematically. We have more a story about individual identity and how it can change, even radically. Again though, it seems to change for the better in Lorenzo's case, making this seem an optimistic story even if its apparent that the narrator has been guided and shaped largely by forces beyond his control.

Heinlein writes with great efficiency, as usual. By this point of his career, in the 1950s, he had mastered many techniques for moving a story along and dealing with challenges. One is his ability to create brief set-piece debates where one character is always a step ahead of the other - and manages to push the other to accept some viewpoint that initially appears odd or unreasonable. Heinlein is skilled at dealing with artistic problems, or potential objections, by using this formula; thus, he resolves difficulties on stage (the theatrical metaphor is especially appropriate for this book) while also getting them out of the way swiftly.

The technique also enables him to show Lorenzo's growth: in the beginning, he is the one who gets bamboozled and browbeaten by characters who are a step ahead of him, but as the action settles down he is increasingly the one who gains a deeper understanding of situations, and soon he is bamboozling and browbeating others.

Double Star is highly regarded by Heinlein fans: in my experience, some prefer it to more famous books by Heinlein, such as the other three novels that won Hugos. Despite its thematic complications, it is, as I've suggested, not all that complicated, and it ends up being a good, rollicking, amusing yarn. There is a simple movement of events: from the beginning when the narrator is asked to impersonate Bonforte to the implied vantage point from which the story is being narrated (a vantage point that is made explicit only in the final few pages).

All in all, this is a lovely little (an ordinary fast reader could whip through it in a couple of hours; I am more distractable, but it didn't take me long) book that deserves its continued classic status. Its main interest, however, does not especially depend on the science fiction elements. It is interesting to see how they do and don't play a role (as it were), and, conversely, to observe how Heinlein dealt with this kind of thematic and psychological material in an SF setting.

Joss Whedon cancels his Twitter account - why?

Joss Whedon has left Twitter: he has cancelled his account. Why? Well, he has not made an explanatory statement, and we always have to be careful before we make assumptions about people's motives. Perhaps, for example, he no longer feels the need to maintain a prominent social media presence. Perhaps...

But at the same time, we can't ignore the fact that the US release (a few days ago) of his latest movie, Avengers: Age of Ultron, has led to this kind of abuse and demonization from some quarters. It should go without saying that much of it is deplorable from any reasonable viewpoint ... although it's notable, today, how few people with large footprints on the internet have been prepared to stand up and plainly condemn the viciousness. If it's not clear from what I've said above, I hereby do so. There is no excuse for it.

Whatever Whedon's personal faults may be, and whatever legitimate critiques of Avengers: Age of Ultron may be available from a range of viewpoints, many of the responses on Twitter are unfair, unprovoked, vile, cowardly, and morally despicable, and I utterly, unequivocally denounce and condemn them. This won't prevent me, in the future, from making whatever criticisms of the movie I might think fair and fitting; however, I will always try to show appropriate generosity and charity toward Whedon, as I always do when discussing movies, books, and other such cultural products (and their creators). That attitude is obviously not the case for the people who have attacked Whedon with the poorly evidenced and patently ridiculous claims that he is a racist, a misogynist, etc., etc.

Those terms have not entirely lost their hurtfulness, but they are starting to leak away their meaning as - increasingly - they are applied to decent, gentle, thoughtful people with solid liberal and feminist credentials. They are used as a weapon against precisely those sorts of people because they are the people who can be most hurt by them. It's a case of using words as weapons - of using them to wound - rather than using them accurately.

It's long past time to push back against this.

Taking the point a bit wider, I am very unhappy with the sort of personal nastiness - even against individuals who should be acknowledged, respected, and assisted as cultural and political allies - that has become so prevalent on the internet over the past few years. Again and again, reasonable charity and basic decency are not even factors. Accusations are made in the hope of inflicting psychological wounds and social harm.

Very many people have disappointed me in recent years with their abdication from the realm of rational debate and discussion - preferring the tactics of smearing, abuse, and (attempts at) psychological destruction. The result is a toxic environment for everyone. People trying to oppose it are often poorly organised and confused about what they are trying to achieve, and some are prone to counterproductive actions. In certain cases that I won't specify, I am unhappy with the approaches they have taken. Some appear to have unpleasant ideologies and agendas of their own - but who can be sure these days?

This is an unhappy situation, and I'm unsure what can be done about it that might be meaningful and effective. I'll continue to monitor developments, but I don't have to acquiesce in what's happening.

Rocketship Galileo (by Robert A. Heinlein) - a brief review

As I mentioned the other day, I am currently starting a program of reading/re-reading a whole bunch of books by Robert A. Heinlein, and I'll review some of them here as we go.

Rocketship Galileo does not merit a lengthy review, but it is notable for being the first of the Scribner juveniles, written by Heinlein in the 1940s and 1950s. It was published in 1947 - obviously not long after World War II, V2 rocket attacks against England, the Nazi Holocaust, the Manhattan Project, and the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. All of these momentous events were in the immediate historical background - and, indeed, at the forefront of consciousness - for Heinlein's original readers. Conversely, 1947 was well before any meaningful space program by the United States (or even the USSR's dramatic launch of Sputnik 1 in 1957).

Accordingly, Rocketship Galileo is the product of a special time in recent human history, making it dated for contemporary readers. Most notably, perhaps, it hugely underestimates the cost and complexity of real-world efforts to send spacecraft to the Moon, despite Heinlein's efforts to portray a private space program with considerable circumstantial detail and thus a degree of verisimilitude.

In essence, the story is of a successful moon journey arising from the work of a distinguished (though still relatively young) scientist, Don Cargraves, who enlists the help of three teenage boys (they seem to be about 17 or 18) to help him design, build, and fly his nuclear-powered rocketship. On the Moon they discover that a military base has already been set up by a group of Nazis, who have equipped themselves with nuclear weapons and an effective delivery system. These bad guys plan to blackmail the earth's nations to surrender and accept Nazi rule.

Obvious themes include the fear of nuclear war (together with an embrace of nuclear energy for peaceful purposes, such as powering electricity grids and space vehicles, e.g. the heroes' eponymous rocketship). Since the bad guys are out-and-out ruthless, totalitarian fanatics, there is no complexity here when it comes to good versus evil. I don't imagine that I'd have much - or anything at all - to say about Rocketship Galileo in my forthcoming book on science fiction and the moral imagination. There's nothing especially subtle or innovative about the book's moral positions apart from the strong interest in nuclear war and its potential for catastrophe.

Nonetheless, whatever its faults, however dated it might be, and however incredible its premise might seem (the idea that a small group of teenage boys could get together with the uncle of one of them to develop a successful space program), the novel is elegantly crafted. Heinlein displays his expertise in moving the action along at just the right pace to make unbelievable events seem somewhat believable, without cheating by solving problems offstage.

There is also a careful balance in giving credit to Cargraves but also to each of the three boys. Cargraves has to be shown as heroic (putting ourselves in the shoes of Heinlein's adolescent male readers, he is the cool, adventurous, smart uncle we might have wished we had back in 1947), while also being dependent, to an extent, on the much younger Ross Jenkins, Art Mueller, and Morrie Abrams. Each of them is given a chance to shine as they overcome odds, battle and outwit evildoers, and ultimately become heroes.

While Cargraves is brilliant, resourceful, physically strong and courageous, and otherwise impressive, he makes mistakes and has limitations. Most obviously, he soon realises that he is too staid and adult - and that he lacks the required youthful reflexes and nervelessness - to pilot the rocketship as well as needed. At crucial moments, he hands that over to Morrie. In all, the book praises and encourages (and offers some guidance to) the sorts of teens who were headed for engineering careers and were keen on fooling around with home science experiments and hot rods.

Again, it is a book from another, albeit recent, era: for one thing, a contemporary novel along comparable lines would not be so overwhelmingly aimed at adolescent males; we could surely expect female characters among the Galileo's crew. For what it is, however, and read with an imaginative sense of its time, audience, and original context, this remains a fine story. Rocketship Galileo still creates some sense of realism, and certainly a satisfying level of suspense and intrigue. Although it is not one of Heinlein's most revered works, it began his run of SF juveniles from Scribner's with evident storytelling skills and considerable cunning in the way it addressed its audience. There was better to come, but this was a sufficiently auspicious start.

Age of Ultron opening in US

The United States opening weekend for Avengers: Age of Ultron has fallen short of the opening for the original Avengers movie three years ago, but was still an enormous $188 million $191 million [edit: original, lower, figure was a studio estimate].

Outside the US, Age of Ultron appears to be doing even better than its predecessor - and it has yet to open in China and Japan. The rapidly developing Chinese market has a seemingly insatiable appetite for Hollywood action movies, and particularly superhero movies, and it will probably produce far bigger numbers this time around than were possible in 2012. In all, Age of Ultron may ultimately bring in higher global receipts than The Avengers, though it will pretty clearly end up lower in the lucrative US domestic market.

Currently reading: The Heritage of Heinlein

I'm currently reading The Heritage of Heinlein: A Critical Reading of the Fiction, by Thomas D. Clareson and Joe Sanders. I'll be reviewing this for The New York Review of Science Fiction.

Clareson and Sanders (mainly Sanders, since Clareson's contribution was some early chapters of the book that he drafted before his death in 1993) have produced a clear, careful, often insightful, and comprehensive discussion of Robert A. Heinlein's entire oeuvre of novels and short fiction.

In fact, reading this book has inspired me to go back and reread (or in a small number of cases, read for the first time) all of Heinlein's novels. We'll see how many I get through, and I expect to review some of them here - starting soon.

Heinlein has a strong claim to have been the most important science fiction writer of the twentieth century.  If there is an SF writer who clearly surpasses him in importance, it is H.G. Wells, but Well's best and most innovative work was published in the 1890s. (Jules Verne was another great innovator, of course, but his most important books were published in the 1860s and 1870s; he died in 1905).

Obviously Heinlein has a few twentieth-century rivals - Arthur C. Clarke, to name just one - and some individual SF novels by more mainstream authors are more important than any single book by Heinlein. Think of Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell, and perhaps some of the works of Margaret Atwood, such as The Handmaid's Tale. Nonetheless, Heinlein's fiction was innovative, varied, often superbly crafted, and enormously influential.

It is, moreover, often undervalued by academic scholars and critics... for whatever reason. For example, there is no chapter on Heinlein in Blackwell's reference work A Companion to Science Fiction (ed. David Seed, 2005), even though there are chapters on H.G. Wells, Isaac Asimov, John Wyndham, Philip K. Dick, Samuel R. Delany, Ursula Le Guin, Gwyneth Jones, Arthur C. Clarke, and Greg Egan (I mean no disrespect to any of these fine writers - indeed, I wrote the chapter on Egan, and elsewhere I've written in depth on Delany). Nor is there a chapter on, say, Stranger in a Strange Land among the ten chapters on individual books.

As I've previously announced, I have a contract with the academic publisher Springer to write a book that will be (in brief) about science fiction and moral philosophy. This will involve much research that I expect to be enjoyable, in the form of immersing/re-immersing myself in much classic SF. There will be updates here as that book proceeds.

Yesterday's post on Charlie Hebdo and PEN republished...

... here, by The Philosophers' Magazine.

Charlie Hebdo and PEN

There has been much public controversy over the decision by PEN America to give its freedom of expression award to Charlie Hebdo. I was scathing about some of the critics of Charlie Hebdo in the immediate wake of the January massacre of its staff (I discussed the responses in an article in Free Inquiry - it's behind a pay wall for subscribers, however), so you might expect me to be equally scathing of the high-profile authors, such as Peter Carey, who are currently protesting PEN America's decision.

Actually, no - I have a slightly more nuanced view this time. Part of what I was criticising in the Free Inquiry article was the sanctimonious attacks on Charlie Hebdo when the corpses of its murdered staff were scarcely cooled. Obviously, time has passed... and it is now a more reasonable moment for reflection on the magazine's content. The grant of an important award to it also makes this a time to reflect on the content of the magazine and for any fair criticisms to be expressed.

As I said in Free Inquiry, if Charlie Hebdo were a clearly racist and vicious publication we would condemn the murders but not stand in solidarity with the magazine, for example by using the hashtag #JeSuiCharlie. We'd certainly we'd not, after all this time for consideration, support prestigious awards for it. There's at least a genuine controversy about exactly how supportive we - and organisations such as PEN - ought to be.

Thus, I see this latest episode in a somewhat different light from the early smears against the magazine and the murder victims, some of which went close to saying that the victims had it coming (one or two authors didn't merely go close but pretty much said this straight out). We need to be able to make fair, reasonably nuanced distinctions ourselves if we're going to ask others to make them.

None of the above should be taken as meaning that I support the authors who are protesting or that I am against PEN America's decision. It should only be taken as meaning that it's important to make distinctions that matter.

By and large, what the protesting authors are now saying is more considered (and again, more timely) than the journalistic attacks that we saw back in January shortly after the Charlie Hebdo murders. But it remains the case, as I said back then, that much of the criticism has been (continues to be) opportunistic and decontextualized from French politics and culture. Some of it has been highly distasteful and intellectually dishonest, discouraging rather than assisting any fair search for what Charlie Hebdo's satire actually conveys to its sophisticated French audience. Even now, the opposition from Carey and the others seems to be based, at least in part, on a decontextualized understanding and an unfortunate degree of groupthink and tribalism.

If we've now reached a point where serious critical discussion of Charlie Hebdo is fitting - and yet again, perhaps we have - we still need to make sure that, as I put it in the Free Inquiry article, "we ... strive to match the complexities of the cartoonists' wit with a complexity and generosity of response." I'm unconvinced that the current wave of high-profile critics are yet managing to do that.

More generally, I remain concerned about the relentless scouring of novels, movies, comedy routines, cartoons, video games, and other cultural products for some kind of racist intent or implication that was probably neither intended as a take-home message nor communicated (intentionally or otherwise) to the original audience. There is also, in much literary and cultural criticism, a vulgar, philistine dismissal of complexity - as I put it (again) in Free Inquiry, "of nuance, irony, social and artistic context, and any complexity, ambiguity, or instability of meaning." This is not the way to treat art or its creators. It produces a pressure for safe, simplistic, fearful, conforming art. It's a Stalinist approach to culture.

By all means, let's subject cultural products to intelligent, well-informed critique, which can involve multiple perspectives and sources of insight. But in doing so, please let's not lapse into being vulgar and predictable, or into the mere political tribalism that has become such an intrusive feature of current cultural debates.

Month of Ultron: Age of Ultron at the box office

It looks at this point as if Avengers: Age of Ultron will turn out even bigger at the box office than The Avengers was. The new movie opened last week in numerous regions with a better overall showing than its predecessor, and will be opening in a couple of days in the US - where the predictions are for an even higher opening box office than last time. It should be huge in China, which seems to have discovered an insatiable appetite for Hollywood superhero movies.

As I was back in 2012, I'm fascinated to see how this eventually pans out - so expect to see a bit of obsession from me over Age of Ultron for the next month or so.

I was careful in my review of Age of Ultron last weekend not to include more than relatively minor spoilers: the review contains no revelations of major plot twists, consequences, and the like. I'll probably have a bit more to say about the movie when it's been around longer, though I'll still be careful not to give anything significant away without appropriate warning.

Avengers: Age of Ultron - a review with minor spoilers

Read on if you don't mind some relatively minor spoilers about Avengers: Age of Ultron.

I won't be giving away any big surprises or major plot points, but nor can I promise to reveal nothing new about the content of the movie. So, the choice is yours!

With that warning duly given, the first point to make is that Avengers: Age of Ultron hits all the notes. If I had a serious criticism of its predecessor, Marvel's The Avengers, it was a certain tameness or going through the motions - a lack of felt danger - in the climactic battle scene where the Avengers take on Loki and the Chitauri. Loki is given a pretty good showing in that scene, but the Chitauri do not seem like worthy opponents for the Avengers. They appear hopelessly incompetent. Things are very different in the equivalent scene in Age of Ultron.

Once again, we are shown a climactic battle between the Avengers and a horde of enemies for them to smash - this time it's an army of robots animated by the malevolent artificial intelligence, Ultron. Once again, the good guys shine: we see what they can do when they truly unleash against their enemies. But the framing and handling of the scene are very different this time, building a sense of real danger. Unlike the Chitauri, Ultron appears truly intimidating, a genuine threat to the Avengers and the world, to the bitter end.

A movie like this thrives by breathing life into extraordinary characters, making them seem plausible, outrageous as they are with their fantastic back stories and their superhuman powers (even superheroes who are presented as, fundamentally, merely human, such as the Black Widow and Hawkeye, possess fighting skills and other abilities beyond those we'd expect, in real life, of Olympic athletes). Age of Ultron is going to please fans because - as with The Avengers - it makes the characters live on the screen. It makes their powers seem real, and highlights their distinctive personalities and emotional drives, and, most notably, the fears that haunt them. It grants the heroes and the villains badass moments, never diminishes any of them, and is (usually) highly respectful of the source material.

The new characters for this movie include Quicksilver, the Scarlet Witch, and the Vision. I can report for their fans that all are portrayed as impressive. In battle scenes against the Avengers, Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch are devastatingly effective: despite their lack of field experience, they prove to be more than worthy opponents for Iron Man, Thor, and the others. (We don't, however, get a scene with Quicksilver on a par with what's done with Fox's version of the character in X-Men: Days of Future Past.)

All of the actors deserve praise, but, for my money, James Spader steals the show in voicing the various robot bodies employed by Ultron. Spader is menacing in an unexpected, off-beat way, somehow conveying a sense of innocence and wonder at the world Ultron is discovering and feels the need to save - in a fashion - via extinction of the Avengers, humanity, and eventually all organic life. (Some of Ultron's decisions in its war against the Avengers and humanity don't seem especially logical, and of course there is a sense that many decisions by the characters are plot driven, but that is almost inevitable in such a movie, and few examples seemed egregious.)

We are given some touching (in more ways than one) moments between the characters, and these are generally presented tactfully (though some viewers may find it a bit much when we're served up tender King Kong/Ann Darrow interactions between the Hulk and the Black Widow - oh well, they really didn't bother me, but they pushed the envelope of my tolerance just a little bit; with these scenes, your mileage may vary).

We are also treated to plenty of humour. I laughed aloud several times, although the comedy depended, in some cases, on extensive background understanding of the Marvel universe. That's fine: it rewards the long-standing fans. The comic effect often depends on masculine competitiveness between the heroes - something that is gently mocked. At one point, Iron Man/Tony Stark even gets into a bragging match with Thor about the respective merits of their girlfriends, Pepper Potts and Jane Foster (it's refreshing, though, that the merits in question relate to the absent women's intellectual accomplishments, rather than their physical beauty).

Age of Ultron could easily have been a technophobic movie, based as it is on the creation of a powerful and inimical artificial intelligence. To my relief, it doesn't play like that.

I owe the media critic J.P. Telotte the insight that seemingly technophobic science fiction tends to find a place within its value set for the technology that it simultaneously presents as frightening. Age of Ultron is a fairly extreme example, since the general direction is far more technophilic than technophobic. The technophobia/technophilia theme comes to the surface - it is made explicit - at one point in a debate between Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Stark acknowledges that they are, from others' viewpoints, mad scientists, but he insists they must use their superscience skills to help the world and correct their own mistakes.

At times, Age of Ultron moves so quickly that the action becomes confusing. Some choices in its final editing may have been less than perfect for plot clarity, though the solution is probably to watch the movie again. Overall, it delivers - better, I think, than its predecessor. In particular, fans of this franchise or of Marvel Comics will not be disappointed.

Blast from the past - my review of Marvel's The Avengers (spoilers)

This was my review, back in 2012, of Marvel's The Avengers. (Some spoilers in what follows.)

In preparation for seeing  Avengers: Age of Ultron, I watched the movie again a couple of nights ago, and I now tend to think I was a little too harsh when I originally reviewed it - perhaps my expectations or hopes were too high at the time.

Watching it again, I still thought the closing battle was somewhat anti-climactic, as the Chitauri were just so incompetent. It never felt (to me) that they were a real threat to the good guys. Consequently, that battle scene became (to my taste) too much a showcase for what the individual Avengers could do, when pitted against a vast alien army, and not an emotionally convincing case of bravery and resourcefulness overcoming the odds. This is despite the fact that the Chitauri keep coming in seemingly limitless numbers.

So, that criticism remains. Of course, it depends on what you want. If you basically want to cheer for the heroic characters - or your favourites among them - as they cut loose on a faceless enemy horde, then this won't be much of a criticism.

I remain impressed by the way all the main characters were built up, shown as badass, and (at least in most cases) kept close to the original source material. Most of the performances were excellent - e.g. I was much more struck this time by Mark Ruffalo's performance as a somewhat skulking, enigmatic Bruce Banner.

Loki's confrontations with the individual heroes were impressive, done in a way that provides good showings for each of them but also for him as the villain (even when he gets smashed around by the Hulk near the end, he is shown soon after picking himself up almost unscathed and declaring that he could really do with that drink Tony Stark offered him at the start of the battle).

Good, fun stuff - and I'll report back soon on Age of Ultron.