Starman Jones (1953)

Robert A. Heinlein

Del Rey, New York; ISBN: 0-345-32811-6; Pages: 252

This is one of the best of the RAH's juveniles, oddly reminiscent of "Citizen of the Galaxy," and certainly as entertaining as "Have Space Suit---Will Travel." Even though RAH's output in the fifties was uneven, he consistently managed to churn out fast-paced adventures spiced with healthy dosage of scientific undercurrent. SJ is no exception: there's the thrilling story of Max going from a hillbilly to Captain of a starship (and back to assistant astrogator), the love story that never was, and the glimpse of a weird planet with its inhabitants. And there's also the description of space travel, the frequent digressions into the mathematics of astrogation, and the meticulously detailed life on a starship. Finally, there's the spider puppy Mr. Chips, an almost inevitable product of RAH's penchant for little cute fury animals.

In this novel the future is again the odd mix of farming and high technology. When Max's stepmother marries, Max runs away from home in the faint hope of pursuing his uncle's career---an astrogator---and go to the stars. On his way he meets with Sam Anderson, a dishonorably discharged Imperial Marine now a hobo. After finding out that the Astrogators' Guild would have none of him, Max accepts Sam's offer to bribe their way onto the "Asgard." Once in space, Max quickly progresses from a stable boy in charge of the animals to an apprentice in the Control Room. And then things go terribly wrong. Dr. Hendrix, the chief astrogator and the main impetus in Max's training, dies of heart attack and his replacement Simes mismanages the next transition through a congruency. The result: "Asgard" stranded in an unknown part of the galaxy, unable to go back.

The ship lands on Charity, a planet orbiting a nearby G-class star and the passengers attempt to organize a colony only to find out that the hospitable planet houses an inhospitable animal kingdom where centaur-like creatures have organized the other animals into symbiotic slavery. Man, "the most ravenous, intolerant, deadly, and successful of the animals" (p.61) is outnumbered so the party decides to raise ship and try to make it home. Except that Simes has tossed the navigation books before being offed himself. With the aid of Max's photographic memory, the new captain and his crew perform a successful transition through what is to become the Hendrix congruency.

There are several pet peeves in this story. First, the subplot with Ellie seems out of place as it never goes anywhere. Worse, it seems there has never been an intention of getting it anywhere. Even though Max slowly comes to realize that he is in love with her, it is not the astrogator's trade that separates them. She simply loves another. The second funny peeve is the need to enter instructions to the ship's computer in binary code. Now, one would think/hope that by the time we can make space transitions in ships with Horst-Conrad impellers we would be able to punch in programs in hexadecimal, to say the least. RAH's concept is anachronistic and even bizarre. I would never trust a human to perform calculations that a computer can do much better and way faster. This obviously makes the astrogator a curious specimen in space travel. Never mind the nitpicking, without this little quirk it would not have been possible for Max to utilize his phenomenal memory to guide the "Asgard" back into the explored corner of the galaxy.

The verdict stands: SJ is one of the most entertaining, well thought-out, and exhilarating novels to come out of RAH's typewriter. It is one I would heartily recommend to someone who has not been exposed to Heinlein's earlier works. Well worth the read.

June 24, 2000. BLS