Starship Troopers

Robert A. Heinlein – 1959

As a longtime fan of Paul Verhoeven’s film adaptation of Starship Troopers, Robert Heinlein’s source novel has been on my reading list for years. The only other book of his that I’ve read is Stranger in a Strange Land. Supposedly, Verhoeven didn’t read much of the novel because he found it fascistic. I don’t know if that’s the case. I interpreted it as a story told from the point of view of a young soldier who is thoroughly indoctrinated in military philosophy. Probably 80% of the novel is a debate and dissertation, first absorbed and then expressed by protagonist Johnnie Rico, about everything from practical soldiering to the mathematics behind combat strategy. Rico is an interesting hero because, as in the film, he starts out a rather spoiled and self-interested boy, but, due to his inherent humility, quickly adapts to the life of an infantryman. Rico portrays himself as simple and unexceptional, but his writing and observations are advanced, and I wondered if this situation could occur because the society he lives in places minimal value on arts and letters, being completely militarist in orientation. What makes the book so interesting to me is the ultimately unresolved question of whether or not Rico is exclusively brainwashed or if the army just legitimately brings out and polishes his best natural abilities. Regarding the perceived “right wing” slant of the novel, I don’t buy it. Why can’t a brilliant author bury himself in an alien worldview just like he does with his main characters and fictional universe, to explore how systems and ideas evolve? The presence of militaristic statements by fictional characters does not make the author a fascist. That logic would lead you to believe that Nazis criticizing Jews in hateful language in Schindler’s List must mean that the work itself, and its author, are fascist too. This reasoning is absurd on the face of it. Further, the implication of fascism’s characteristic xenophobia is completely undercut by Heinlein’s depiction of a cooperating international Earth culture. Juan “Johnnie” Rico is from South America, but the language he speaks at home with his parents is Tagalog, and his squad in basic training is populated with inductees representing not only English but Spanish, German and Japanese-speaking nations. And in the final chapter, depicting a brand new infantryman preposterously boasting of his nation's many historical accomplishments, we and Rico are reminded that ideologies often flourish thanks to big lies. It's clear that Heinlein is highly skeptical of all political systems, including the one currently in power in his story. I was surprised how little combat against the giant “Bugs” of Klendathu actually takes place in the story. In fact, Rico doesn’t find himself in the middle of the war until the last dozen or so pages, and even then, ironically, he gets injured and knocked unconscious and misses the battle’s entire resolution. (Hardly the rousing finale you’d expect in a supposedly pro-war book.) In further irony, Verhoeven’s film was also dismissed as fascist propaganda by blinkered intellectuals utterly consumed with interpreting all art through the filter of their narrow agenda. These automaton-like critics lack the tools to acknowledge the subtlety and nuance of authors who are actually critiquing the very things they’re accused of promoting. That’s the real dystopia we’re in, which was always foretold by the best science fiction writers like Heinlein, Bradbury, Vonnegut, and many others.