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Stranger in a Strange Land
  

Stranger in a Strange Land [Unknown Binding]

Robert A. Heinlein
4.1 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (453 customer reviews)

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First Sentence
ONCE UPON A TIME when the world was young there was a Martian named Smith. Read the first page
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Front Cover | Copyright | Table of Contents | Excerpt | Back Cover
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Customer Reviews

453 Reviews
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Average Customer Review
4.1 out of 5 stars (453 customer reviews)
 
 
 
 
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1.0 out of 5 stars Pompous demagoguery of the highest order., Jun 20 2002
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A novel that begins with the promise of cultural exploration instead quickly devolves into heavy-handed philosophical prolesthetizing masquerading as social commentary. In typical Heinlein fashion, the author thinly veils the outright declaration of his hedonistic and anti-theistic views in stilted dialogue. Furthermore, he characterizes any and all viewpoints that contradict his own as "narrow-minded" and "opressive" while pretending to be an open-minded champion of free inquiry. One might argue that this book is worth reading because of the impact it made upon the hippie culture of its day; I would remind such a person that Chairman Mao also made a significant impact on hippie culture.
Though this book serves as a good example of the bloated, sophomoric philisophical tracts that posed as science fiction throughout much of the sixties, I would not reccomend it to anyone looking for good reading. It is pompous, long-winded, morally backward, intellectually deficient, and eminently dull. A monumental waste of time.
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1.0 out of 5 stars Dull, dull, dull and stupid, Nov 29 2001
I can't believe I managed to finish reading this tripe. Basically as others have said, the first half was an intriguing idea. The second half however shows what a simplistic world view Heinlein had.

The Plot: Basically martian man begins a Scientology/Branch Davidians cuasi-socialist-cult where everybody melts into one entity and becomes happy by freeing their mind and having sex, lots of sex. Who gives a (blip) anyway. All this is explained in long-winded conversations where one idiot makes a comment only to be refuted by an all wise sage, and the sage is never wrong.

Boring, boring, boring as hell. If Heinlein had any sense of irony he would have seen that martian man's cult was utter stupidity and would have made fun of it in the last half.

Don't buy this book, get something that matters.

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1.0 out of 5 stars I grok this book sucks . . ., Sep 7 2001
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and waiting for fullness won't make it any better. The problem is not merely the pedantic, libertarian, psuedo-intellectual, and mysogynistic man qua Heinlein character of Jubal Harshaw. Nor is is it merely Stranger's naive serial/lady-killer protagonist, Michael Valentine Smith. In fact, it's difficult to pinpoint precisely where Stranger goes wrong because there is nary a single aspect of the book that is not either, at worst, offensive and obscene or, at best, fundamentally misguided.

Beneath Smith's Sebastian Flyte pretty-boy exterior beats the heart of a fascist. And somehow Smith's fascism (fully endorsed by the crotchety Harshaw/Heinlein) fits perfectly with Harshaw's/Heinlein's professed libertarianism. How can this be, you ask? Because Harshaw/Heinlein believes that libertarianism is only a good thing when he is not the gov't. But with the reigns of power in his own hands he will gladly rule over every aspect of his citizens' lives with militaristic gusto.

This fundamental inconsistency apparent everywhere in Stranger seems to result from the author's belief that the value of a human person is determined solely by what benefits he can provide for the collective (where "collective" means Smith/Harshaw/Heinlein). Stranger rejects the notion that each human person has an intrinsic dignity. People are worth what they produce, period. Smart people are worth more than dumb people, pretty people worth more than ugly, the talented worth more than the untalented, and the people who agree with Smith/Harshaw/Heinlein worth more than the rest of humanity combined.

Consequently, it is ok for Smith to kill a dissenter, because in that dissenter there is a "wrongness." And it's ok for Smith to hop from bed to bed and objectify every woman he meets, because pleasing Smith is a "goodness."

It frightens me that so many people find this book profound. I can only pray that they really don't understand the novel and just think that it would be groovy to live in a world where shy nerds can become all-powerful magnets of pneumatic women.

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