Heinlein traveled on many levels

Those who argue it isn't Heinlein at his best might have a case.
By MARC SCHOGOL
KNIGHT RIDDER
"Glory Road" by Robert A. Heinlein; Tor ($24.95)
If it weren't for "Stranger in a Strange Land," Robert A. Heinlein probably would have been known only by science-fiction buffs.
But with its out-of-this-world motifs, including a mind-melding, mind-bending communal lifestyle where everything -- everything! -- was free and shared, 1961's "Stranger in a Strange Land" made Heinlein a '60s counterculture icon.
The irony, as anyone familiar with Heinlein and his other works would have known, was that the late science-fiction master's political and philosophical bent was very libertarian/anti-egalitarian. Like Jack Kerouac, who was never comfortable with his reputation as the spiritual father of the hippies, Heinlein (1907-1988) was not, and never wanted to be, a guru to the Woodstock generation.
Regarding "Stranger," Heinlein, one of the great science-fiction writers of all time, once said: "I would never undertake to be a 'Prophet,' handing out neatly packaged answers to lazy minds. ... Anyone who takes that book as answers is cheating himself. It is an invitation to think -- not to believe."
Anyone who still believes that he or she "groks" ("Stranger's" term for total understanding) Heinlein based on that one book can now see how much they don't by reading this reissue of "Glory Road."
Mixed reaction
Originally published two years after "Stranger," it has been considered a lightweight effort by many science-fiction aficionados. But others loved it then and have found themselves enjoying periodic rereadings since.
On the surface, it seems almost like a children's book: Vietnam veteran Oscar (a.k.a. "Scar" and "Flash") Gordon, feeling that he no longer fits into the "go along, get along" civilian world, is recruited for a mission impossible by a drop-dead-gorgeous warrior-queen of an advanced parallel universe.
Along with a dwarfish but deceptively adept man Friday, they embark on an adventure that both echoes and plays off -- and with -- every Holy Grail-like quest ever put to paper.
Like Heinlein, a U.S. Naval Academy graduate who was on the Annapolis fencing team, Gordon is an expert fencer who effectively -- almost magically -- wields his blade, like Luke Skywalker with his light saber.
"Glory Road" is a delightfully puckish read, but if that's all it was, those who have argued it isn't Heinlein at his best might have a case. But, like great authors in any genre, Heinlein writes -- and must be read -- on many levels.
Almost as if he were reminding readers why he was not another Allen Ginsberg or Ken Kesey, his future-perfect world makes it clear where he, his hero, and his heroine are coming from.
In that time and place, Heinlein writes, the distilled wisdom of the ages is: "The answer to most problems was: Don't do anything. ... Even the positive edicts of the Imperium were usually negative in form: 'Thou Shalt Not Blow Up Thy Neighbors' Planet (Blow up your own if you wish).'"
Democracy, according to great minds of the future, is something that primitive societies try but must outgrow because "'Vox Populi, Vox Dei' translates: 'My God! How did we get in "this mess!"'
In "Glory Road's" advanced universe, the Emperor or Empress is selectively autocratic. "Local affairs are local. Infanticide? -- they're your babies, your planet."
And not all men and women are created equal. The typical person, Gordon is told, has been, and always will be, a zero. And no matter how many zeros you add together, the sum is still zero: "'It's the incidence of heroes that counts, not the pattern of zeroes.'"
As to loving one another, the open sex that Heinlein equates with more advanced civilizations again is present. But there is little heaven on Earth. When Gordon returns to Earth after the interstellar quest and a scruffy, bearded poet calls him a "mercenary" for having served in Vietnam, Gordon says: "'Well, not always. ... Sometimes I fight for free. Like right now."' And with that, he slams the sneering poet into a wall.
Hardly what the peace-loving "stranger" in "Stranger" would have done. But, to borrow a '60s-ism, very much representative of where Heinlein was.