As we approach Independence Day, we might as well review a book about revolution: Robert A. Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

Heinlein’s novels do what science fiction is supposed to do, I suppose. But whereas he has a grasp on science that helps sell his futuristic technology as believable (even though this story doesn’t anticipate the pervasiveness of electronic devices, WiFi, 4G, etc., and people on the moon still rely on print/paper to the extent we did in the 1980s), his grasp on cultural anthropology, human dynamics, and the military sciences is less authoritative. His whole concept of how family and marriage work on Luna, for instance, seems more like wishful thinking than any understanding of human nature or extrapolation of cultural trends.

Also, if it was ever explained why a character named Manuel O’Kelly, a citizen of the moon, spoke in some kind of Russian hipster lingo, I missed it.

Heinlein’s political orientation has long been assumed to be “conservative,” but I think it would be better classified as skitzo. In Starship Troopers his social commentary struck me as authoritarian. In this novel he, on the one hand, recognizes the virtues of a constitutional republic…while simultaneously portraying an oligarchy as necessary to install it, and justifying mass psyops on the population to push the “necessary” agenda.

Part of our difficulty agreeing on what Heinlein was is probably due to the engineered confusion regarding what “left” and “right” truly mean, with socialists like Hitler and even Stalin continually alleged to be “right-wing.” Even greater confusion pervades about what “liberal” and “conservative” truly mean.

It was interesting, though, to note Heinlein admitting (through his characters) that FDR bullied Japan until they were provoked into attacking us, giving him the popular support needed to support a war he’d been scheming for all along.

The female lead (honestly can’t remember her name right now) was supposed to be a love interest, I guess. As such, that sub-plot was completely lackluster. The character was more of a distraction than anything else, but even back when this was written the “strong independent woman” was becoming a self-imposed requirement for fiction authors. (Later to be imposed by agents and editors.) But the Prof was an interesting character and Mike (the self-aware supercomputer) stole the show.

Looking back over these paragraphs, I’m probably not cutting Heinlein enough slack.This is an enjoyable read, and easily better than any new science fiction I found on the shelves from about 1992-2013.