Customer Reviews

Variable Star

5 star:		(31)
4 star:		(29)
3 star:		(16)
2 star:		(23)
1 star:		(18)

 

 

This book, like many posthumous `collaborations' that are attempts to complete an unfinished work, has both good and bad things about it.

First, yes, Heinlein's touch is definitely evident, mainly in the basic story setting and its main characters. Clearly the outline and notes that Spider worked from defined these elements unambiguously, and anyone familiar with Heinlein's work will find much here that will evoke that feeling that so many of his YA books from the fifties had. The story is very definitely set in the `Future History' line, with references to Red Planet, If This Goes On, Coventry, Time for the Stars, Starman Jones, Space Cadet, and multiple other stories. Its protagonist is, at least at the start of this book, a rather typical Heinlein older teen, a young man who starts with no clear idea of what he wants from life, and while quite intelligent has a tendency to leap without fully considering all the consequences.

But it is also true that this is Spider writing, and as such it's told in Spider's voice, with his own very distinctive style, which includes his penchant for punning, and to some extent, mysticism, neither of which Heinlein would normally touch. This is not necessarily a bad thing - I've enjoyed many of Spider's other books, and his style normally complements his story material very well. But here I found some of this a little jarring, as it simply didn't match my expectation of how Heinlein's voice would have told this story. Not that Spider either should or could have really matched Heinlein's voice - any attempt to do so would have probably been a disaster.

The objections some others have raised about Spider inserting some commentary about current events into the Future History time line (as `The Terror Wars') I found was actually fairly well done, giving a more solid basis to the rise of Nehemiah Scudder than Heinlein ever did (though this was an area that Heinlein himself avoided, as too depressing to write about). Spider does manage to create characters that I could fully believe in, and they bear a strong resemblance to what these characters would have been like under Heinlein's pen, and this does much to keep this story highly readable and enjoyable.

But I found that the direction of the plot for about the last third of this book rather upsetting, as it plays havoc with the Future History as we have come to know and love it - and this area is pure Spider, for as stated in the afterword, Heinlein's notes were incomplete, and did not include an ending. The ending that is here has both a deus-ex-machina device (but one that Heinlein himself used in one of his other stories) and a clear path to a possible sequel, as clearly there is more story to tell, if Spider (and the Heinlein estate) would so desire.

I finished this book with very mixed feelings. Yes, it's another entry into the Future History corpus; yes, it's well written, engrossing, and enjoyable; but no, it's not Heinlein, and it branches in a direction well outside the known Future History, at the very least requiring another major branch in the World-as-Myth world view. But if Spider ever does write a sequel to this, I'll be there at the bookstore waiting to buy it when it comes in.

--- Reviewed by Patrick Shepherd (hyperpat)

First the bad news. According to the afterword, all Spider started with was 7 pages of notes (there were more, but any additional pages have been lost) and 14 3x5 cards with more notes. So the plot in broad terms is recognizably Heinleinesque, but he didn't have much to go on. But the real disappointment is that Spider's agent told him not to write the novel in a Heinlein style, but in his own. Understandable, sure. But it just doesn't feel like a Heinlein book (much less a Heinlein Juvenile, which the Publisher's Weekly semi-compares it to in their review). It has a fair amount of profanity, multiple drug references (soft, hard and alcohol) and sentences like "Damned souls condemned to yearn forever, and destroy all they touched, knowing it was pointless." As a Spider Robinson book it's OK, but he's really pushing it to include RAH's name on it (no matter how lovingly he tried to do him justice).

OK, now onto the good parts. Throughout the first, oh, half of the book (but then it peters out), Spider peppers the story liberally with RAH allusions. For example: The story starts with Joel (the hero) and Jinny (as in Mrs. Ginny Heinlein?) dancing. Afterwards, she says, "After dancing like that ... a couple really ought to get married". Sound familiar? It should. The Number of the Beast (with its own ton of allusions) starts the same way -- "After a tango like that the couple ought to get married." In both books they go to (Jinny's home) which "isn't anywhere" and (Deety's/Jake's cabin) "It's ... a nowhere place." And there are many, many more. If you're like me and have read and re-read Heinlein's works so often you've practically got them memorized, you'll have fun picking out the references. Trivia question: In Variable Star, on several occasions people use the phrase "Crave pardon." Where else in the RAH canon is this phrase used?

And did I mention a character named Solomon Short? (Presumably used by permission of David Gerrold.)

Side comment -- Kathleen Moore complains that the book's resolution is based on a deus ex machina. Well, so it is. Which is ironic, because it's essentially the same deus ex machina used at the end of Time for the Stars that she mentions. So in a way that's another allusion. And while, yes, there is a lot of Time for the Stars in this novel, it doesn't take much thought to realize that in many ways, Variable Star is closest, structurally, to The Door Into Summer.

So the bottom line is that I gave this only 3 stars. If I'd read it without knowing the author(s), this is probably how I'd rate it. Which is a shame. I wish it had been better.

Anyone buying this book in the hope that even a Heinlein outline must result in a half decent novel, as I did, will be deeply dissapointed.
While I have always enjoyed Robinsons' Callahans stories, and I am eternally in his debt for his eloquent defending of Heinlein; this novel simply does not feel nor read like any form of Heinlein. Now I know that Robinson has stated clearly that he didn't try to write in the style of Heinlein,(a wise decision!), and as a Robinson novel this is sort of OK, if a bit self consciously hip for my taste, but Heinleins' name should not be on the cover.
-and the rather convenient ending seems a direct pinch from Time For The Stars. Maybe it was meant as homage, but it left a bad taste in my mouth.
I would like there to be more new Heinlein as much as the next person, but if there truly isn't any, then please,let his work stand as it is.
He gave us so very much. Let it be enough.

Pardon the butchered pop-culture reference.

I love early Heinlein, and enjoy most of Mr. Robinson's work.. I enjoyed the read, and I "get" that he was doing his own work here, not just copying RAH. Still, the story started out as PURE Heinlein, which makes reading it pretty misleading. There were enough jarring notes to convince me that the living RAH would not have agreed to this collaboration.

Aside from the obvious (and intrusive) political slant, just the fact that we have here a protagonist who pointedly avoids "hard" subjects, devoting almost all his time and attention to the arts instead, and falls into tears CONTINUALLY, AT THE DROP OF A HAT is disconcerting. Toward the end, he seemed to be crying on about every third page, and I for one was becoming a little nauseous, not at these developments themselves, but at having Heinlein's name attached to them.

This was not a believable collaboration with an author who made it a point to include the themes that competence is a virtue, and that happiness comes from strength.

Don't get me wrong, it was a generally good book and a fun read- but a Heinlein protagonist, this was not.

Note: I've removed a final line I originally included, not because of any change of sentiment, but because, on retrospect, while I felt there were certainly problems with the plot, specific mention of their nature might have been considered a "spoiler". I don't want to ruin the enjoyment of anyone who chooses to read the book on its own merits.

Variable Star was not written by Robert Heinlein. Its plot, characters, and setting may have been devised and drawn out by the late Science Fiction master, but the gaps most certainly show whenever Robinson attempts to fill them in. I'll admit that I'm quite a Heinlein fan, and I loved the first half of this book more than any another Heinlen I've read. It has a catchy premise that reels you into a fantastic world, with a main character that is perfect in his quirkiness and authenticity.

Most good works of fiction make the reader grip the page during the climax, putting all other responsibilities aside until the plot is resolved. Variable Star is the first book I've read in recent memory that made me feel this way during the exposition and the initial chapters. The setting, the characters, and other elements in the novel are fascinating, especially because it deals heavily with one man's internal struggle to make sense of his own world, instead of the bloody (and predictable) conflict-based plots that are all-too-common in SciFi today.

However, halfway through the book, this came screeching to a halt. The trademark Heinlein references (including everyone's favorite, line marriages) still kept flowing, but the writing seemed rushed, the plot seemed forced, and the characters simply became less believable. I won't ruin it, but the climax of the novel was brought on by one of the worst plot devices I've ever read in published fiction and solved by a deus ex machina that was only slightly better. I finished the book with my jaw agape, trying to piece together the sheer ridiculousness of the events I had just read. There is a fine line between unbelievable and absurd coincidences, and Robinson stepped far over it in an attempt to conclude what was obviously an unfinished Heinlein novel.

However, I was willing to suspend disbelief, and don't give the work such a low rating simply for being unpredictable. My greater concern was that Spider Robinson couldn't help but make a political point whenever he saw a chance. I know that Heinlein (like Orwell, Asimov, Gibson, Stevenson, and other SciFi authors) writes books that express political messages, but I've never seen this done so tactlessly. Robinson is obviously disturbed by America's reaction to the September 11th attacks and subsequent invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq. However, instead of using fictional events as a metaphor, he has the gall to refer to them directly.

I almost had to put the book down at the point in the novel when one of the characters began referring to the "nineteen killers" and the "Christian superpower" that "crushed two tiny bystander nations." I'll admit that I'm as loony of a liberal as you'll get and agree with Robinson in principle, but this application was simply inappropriate for a science fiction novel set two hundred years in the future. I know that the Iraq war is a farce, Spider. I simply don't want to hear about it when I read a novel about colonizing the stars.

It must have seemed a good idea, a slam dunk: take Heinlein's detailed notes for an abandoned novel, give them to an accomplished writer, and three months later (the time it typically took Heinlein to write one of his juveniles), savor the result and watch the cash flow in. How could it fail?

Well, it did fail miserably and while no doubt done with the best of intentions, this thing, I don't know what it is -- it is most certainly not a novel -- titled "Variable Star" is an express bus to literary hell and has single handedly set back SF three-quarters of a century. I have no idea what its author was trying to accomplish here, nor do I care. The result has entered whole new dimensions of awfulness hitherto unexplored, a parallel universe of grossness where intelligent life can never hope to arise. I wish I could close my eyes and make it go away, but it will not.

The language is pathetic (mindless obscenities soon clog up the pages). The psychology is inane (but if you like fart jokes, are you in for a treat). Clichés, real and pseudo abound. "Rich as Croesus?" Yep, it's there. "Buttons on a snake?" What is that supposed to mean? Robinson uses the phrase twice. There is no plot to speak of, no theme to be explored, no purpose or point anywhere, just a jumble of episodes that should be entitled: I Become Super Rich! Everybody Wants to Lay Me! My Music is a Hit! Oh No! (as if a cosmic Mr. Bill) Aliens Did Something Really, Really Bad!

There is not a single, honest moment in this book. Nothing rings true. The book is idea free. There is no science worthy of the name, no speculation worth noting. Bits and pieces of other Heinlein works are sprinkled about, but unless you know the source they contribute nothing. If you do know their source, they also contribute nothing. "Variable Star" takes place not in the vacuum of space, but in a vacuum of human mind and heart, and talent.

It gets worse. Should the reader ever have any doubt that a particular piece is humorous, the author will step in to strenuously assure him that yes, Hilarity has Ensued! I am not exaggerating. It is that pathetic. I want to say I hated all the characters, but there is nothing resembling a "character" here. Alas, it appears I am stuck with the word. Ciphers would have been a big step up. Any six-year-old writing a story about her pet goldfish would have done a more believable, sincere, and compelling job.

Nevertheless, there is a question in "Variable Star," and it looms like a colossus over this monstrosity: Why?

Given the intelligence of the people involved in this project (all of whom should now be sentenced to community service), it is incredible to me that someone at some point did not say: "Guys, this ain't working. A lot of pointless profanity and DOA `jokes' is not even junk. A great man's memory deserves much better. Let's forget it." But according to the end notes, Robinson labored on this abomination for two years. Indeed, as one reads it, there is a sense of mounting panic to the book. After the first three chapters, which drag terribly, the frantic nature of the book becomes increasingly apparent.

There are scenes here that are hide-your-eyes in their awfulness. Typical structure: a character starts screaming, cussing, and acting absurdly. There is an entirely meaningless explanation as to why the character was doing that. Then people run around. On to the next scene. No competent writer writes like that. It reads like a sick parody done by someone who hated Heinlein with an all-consuming passion.

Possibly Robinson was too intimidated by the assignment. Perhaps everyone else was too embarrassed to protest, or no longer cared. Fans will buy anything, the people involved no doubt assured themselves. So it may be. I foolishly did.

Robinson intimates while writing the book he was visited by the master's spirit. If so, Robinson should have checked the ID. "Variable Star" appears to have been channeled from Isaac Asimov. Any English-speaking editor could have seen that a third of the book could be cut at once. Half the remainder could also be dispensed with. And what was left wasn't much good either. But all 115K words of this unqualified and unspeakable disaster were published. Why?

Without access to the 7K words of notes that Mr. Robinson worked from, we have few clues as to what went wrong. We see the end result, but what could the man have been thinking? Take it as a rule that when a writer at the peak of his powers abandons a project, there is undoubtedly a very good reason. Probably several. Here and there the sense is some of the notes found their way into much better books (e.g. Citizen of the Galaxy, and Have Space Suit, Will Travel). It may have been a warm-up, a throat-clearing, for the infinitely superior Time for the Stars. But most of it reads like a dead end that Heinlein wisely saw no future for. He filed it away and moved on; never dreaming that fifty years hence literary ghouls would cruelly unearth his notes and the appalling results would see the light of day. Grown men have wept for less.

The book informs us a percentage of the receipts from this book will go to the Heinlein Prize, a prize established to encourage innovative ideas on space flight. This is certainly a worthy goal. Sending a donation directly to the Prize Committee would be a commendable idea. But if you still want to read the book, go to your nearest discount book site/store and knock yourself out. They're going to have a lot of copies. Pennies on the dollar should be the going price. Insist on it.

Robinson's completion of Heinlein's outline of a young man who goes on a starship to escape a destiny as possible eventual successor to the richest man in the world (and prize husband for his granddaugher) is an interesting read, but it is poorly plotted (obviously Robinson, not Heinlein) and unsatisfying.

The book is simply filled with references to Heinlein's other works. Some occur in passing (Venerian dragons are mentioned, from "Between Planets"). Others form a great part of the story (the ship is governed under "the Covenant" after the fall of "the Prophets", straight from the latter part of the Future History). But Robinson inserts bits and pieces from our own history--Joel, the protagonist, is quite familiar with the Beatles and Star Wars. But one insertion quite out of place is the events of September 11--one character goes on at length about how the U.S. was wrong to respond to it by invading two countries. This will offend some, and even those who agree will find the placement jarring.

Heinlein took pride in always getting the science right. While I can't go into the events of the story for fear of "spoiling", there are a number of places where Robinson just doesn't live up to the Master, science-wise.

While the love story is very Heinleinian, sort of a cross between "Time for the Stars" and "The Door into Summer", we must assume this was specified in the outline. Robinson is left to his own devices for too much, and it will lead the reader to disappointment.

A short afterword tells of the genesis of the novel. It is too bad, though, that Heinlein's outline and notes could not have been published with this book. At least then, we'd have had something that is really Heinlein.

First and foremost, yes, it is a good book. A great book in places, even.

But it's not a Heinlein.

Certainly, it's flavored with a lot of Heinleinian spices, but Robinson
does a number of things that the Master never would have done. Taking
contemporary jargon ("google," used as a verb) and placing it into the
mouths of his characters, for one thing. Making an extended commentary
on current events (with a bent against vigorous self-defense), for
another. There are extended riffs on such nontechnological specialties
as music, and details about intimacies that Heinlein would have
smoothed over more gracefully.

But these transgressions are eminently forgiveable. Unlike reviewers
of the pre-publications proofs, I did not find the ending to be an
offensive usage of deus ex machina - far from it, indeed - and the love
story in it is straight, 200-proof Heinlein.

References back to other parts of the canon are relatively frequent,
but not too intrusively so. Conflation of the LeCroix timeline and
current events seems forced - though it works into a reasonably
coherent, if too overtly current-events-political, narrative tying in
the Nehemiah Scudder and Coventry stories.

It is clear that Robinson knows his Heinlein well, and holds the
Master's work in great esteem, but he cannot resist putting his own
touches of overly-cute craft into the writing. There is great and
reasonably effective pathos in the story, but one cannot help but wish
that we had seen it rendered by the Master himself.

Actually, that pretty well covers my reaction to the whole book -- it
is well written and effectively rendered... but I wish that Heinlein
had been granted the time to complete it himself; it would have been a
better book in his own hands. Probably a simpler book, as it seems to
have been clearly sketched as a juvenile, typical of that genre in his
hands, but a better book.

A worthy effort from Robinson, and one for which he deserves credit, though not adulation.

I am pretty amused by all of the people saying, in effect, "Well! It's definitely not Heinlein!"

No kidding? For real? And how many of you did it take to come to that consensus? More to the point, did any of you read the Afterword to see what Spider was up against while writing this novel?

It's absolutely not Heinlein, it's Spider Robinson writing in Spider Robinson style. Heinlein's influence and Spider's conscious effort at writing in the Heinleinian (?) style are both readily apparent if you don't open the cover of the book with critique in mind.

Is it so hard to read a book just for the sake of reading and enjoying it? I took immense pleasure in going back in time. Heinlein's tone and theme is there running in a natural harmony with Spider's style. I gave this 5 stars for the simple facts that:

A) It was a great read!
B) It took me back to when I first started reading Science Fiction and Heinlein happened to be the second author I got hooked on. Andre Norton was the first. And I was 8.

My advice to anyone considering this book: Buy it. Buy it for itself. Buy it for reading enjoyment. Don't expect it to be a polished up manuscript straight from the Master's hand; it ain't. Buy it to enjoy a break in time.

Your opinion of this book naturally will be affected by your opinion of Spider Robinson's novels. It certainly was so for me, and I admit that I was uncertain that Spider (or anybody) could pull off the "write a novel from 8 pages of Heinlein's notes" challenge. This isn't a perfect success, but he did far better than I feared.

Just for context: I loved Spider Robinson's early books and short story collections. But, as with a musician that has a distinctive "sound," I grew to prefer his stuff in small doses -- catch the song on the radio rather than listen to an entire album. Plus, over the years, I found Spider's authorial tics to be a bit too predictable, his puns obvious, and theme repetitions that were great... the first time around. So it's been years since I've read any of his new stuff. Although I knew that Spider grokked Heinlein better than anybody else, could he write with the Master's voice? I wasn't sure if Spider's own music would overwhelm the core of Heinlein's plot; whether they could harmonize or whether it'd be a "oh, here's the Heinlein solo" back-and-forth.

Spider far exceeded my expectations. This is a good story. It's not an awesome story, but it's a good one. It won't make you feel as though you're reading a Heinlein novel that you somehow had missed; it will, however, remind you of the things you liked about Heinlein's stories. There's the independent hero, the spaceship headed to a new colony, the gorgeous women who are also brilliant. There's also the things that could be irritating about Heinlein, passed through Spider's interpretation, which (I feel compelled to point out to other reviewers) included a propensity for pedantic opinion-sharing, and for sometimes awkwardly done brain-dumps of history or "this is how the science works." Unlike others, I appreciate the references to earlier works and the effort to twist the universe into Future History.

The Heinlein/Spider collaboration never reaches the state of beautiful harmony in which one cannot pick out one voice over another, but to my ear it sounds just fine. I don't think you'll be bowled over, but Heinlein fans will be glad they read this novel.