In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement.
The figure of Albert Einstein casts a long shadow across science fiction in the 20th century. Perhaps no single person impacted the imagination of science fiction writers more than Einstein, with his theory of relativity. So it is no surprise that Robert Heinlein, whose juveniles often examined some scientific development or puzzle, would use the theory as the basis of one of his novels. One of the thought experiments popularized after Einstein’s paper on special relativity examines the idea of time dilation caused by travel near the speed of light by looking at the impact it would have on a pair of twins—one who traveled and one who stayed home. Heinlein uses this exact premise for Time for the Stars, while adding the twist that the twins were linked by telepathy. But while the book has its moments, I have always ranked it as the least of Heinlein’s juveniles.
When I first reviewed a Heinlein juvenile a few years ago, I simply picked my favorite (Have Spacesuit—Will Travel), having no intention to review them all. But after looking at a few more, chosen for a variety of reasons, I decided it would be fun to cover the entire series, and started reviewing the unexamined books in chronological order. And now I am left with two, Tunnel in the Sky and Time for the Stars. The first is my second favorite Heinlein juvenile, and the latter my least favorite. So today I am looking at Time for the Stars, and saving the better book for last.
For this review, being unable to find a paperback copy and or to order it through the local interlibrary loan system, I used a Science Fiction Book Club omnibus edition entitled Infinite Possibilities. As I recollect, I had read a library copy of the book when I lived in Northern Virginia back in the early 1980s. I remembered that the book involved a pair of twins and relativity, but otherwise I’d been singularly unimpressed with it. Looking at reviews on the internet, I find this book has generated a broad range of opinions. Some people call it their favorite Heinlein juvenile, while others (like me) consider it one of the weakest. Many of the juveniles generate strong opinions from readers, but I suspect this one is among the most polarizing.
About the Author
Robert A. Heinlein (1907-1988) was one of America’s most widely known science fiction authors, frequently referred to as the Dean of Science Fiction. I have often reviewed his work in this column, including Starship Troopers, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, “Destination Moon” (contained in the collection Three Times Infinity), The Pursuit of the Pankera/The Number of the Beast, and Glory Road. From 1947 to 1958, he also wrote a series of a dozen juvenile novels for Charles Scribner’s Sons, a firm interested in publishing science fiction novels targeted toward young boys. These novels include a wide variety of tales, and contain some of Heinlein’s best work (the books I’ve already reviewed in this column contain links to the relevant article): Rocket Ship Galileo, Space Cadet, Red Planet, Farmer in the Sky, Between Planets, The Rolling Stones, Starman Jones, The Star Beast, Tunnel in the Sky, Time for the Stars, Citizen of the Galaxy, and Have Spacesuit—Will Travel. This is not the first time Time for the Stars has been discussed on Tor.com, as Jo Walton reviewed it back in 2009.
Einstein’s Theories and Science Fiction
The science fiction genre has always, by definition, drawn from science and technology for its plots and settings. Electricity, aviation, rocketry, communications, astronomy, and many other fields have become fodder for the imaginative projections of science fiction authors. And no one person has influenced and inspired more science fiction stories than physicist Albert Einstein (1879-1955). His theory of relativity, presented in two parts in 1905 and 1915, transformed the way we looked at the universe, and upended some of the foundations of Newtonian mechanics (and if I get any of the following wrong, please be gentle with me; I’ve forgotten almost all of the math and physics I learned in my younger days). The first part of his theory describes special relativity, which looked at the electrodynamics of moving bodies. Among other findings, the theory suggested that the speed of light was an absolute limit, and that time would appear to slow down on an object moving at speeds nearing the speed of light. It also gave birth to the famous equation E=MC2, which showed that the conversion of matter into energy could release huge amounts of power. The theory of general relativity expanded this concept, adding gravity to the model, and posited that gravity was a kind of warping of spacetime, and could actually bend the motion of light.
The idea of time dilation when traveling at speeds near close to the speed of light gave rise to a thought experiment called the “twin paradox,” first put forth by French physicist Paul Langevin. He pointed out that if one twin stayed on Earth while another traveled interstellar distances at near light speed, the returning twin could have experienced a period of perhaps months, while the twin at home could have experienced a period of perhaps decades. And this is precisely the situation at the heart of Heinlein’s novel, making an examination of that supposed paradox the central part of his story. This attention to physics is somewhat undermined by the idea that the twins are telepaths, able to observe the changes as they occur rather than waiting for the end of the journey. The idea that telepathy might exist, and that it might involve instantaneous communications over long distances, is of course more fantasy than science fiction, even though paranormal mental powers have long been a favorite topic for writers who otherwise play within the rules of physics.
Einstein’s theories have also given rise to a cottage industry of schemes that would allow science fiction characters to exceed the speed of light, because it is far more exciting to imagine visiting other stars rather than simply observe them from afar. In the early days, when Einstein’s theories were still being debated, as we see in works like E.E. “Doc” Smith’s Skylark of Space, characters could simply scoff at what was still unproven, push their throttles forward, and zoom around the galaxy at many times the speed of light. By the 1960s, however, when I was first reading science fiction, authors were more creative in developing at least semi-plausible ways to travel faster than light, whether their spacecrafts would travel through subspace, hyperspace, other dimensions, or through wormholes.
And while it is not as central to the plot, Einstein’s idea that the total annihilation of matter could release vast amounts of energy is central to the concept of Heinlein’s “torchships,” which use this energy to accelerate for extended periods of time and reach tremendous speeds. This hypothetical energy source, which dwarfs anything we can produce by either nuclear fission or fusion, was also used by Heinlein to power the terraforming process described in his juvenile Farmer in the Sky.
Time for the Stars
Heinlein introduces the readers to Tom and Pat Bartlett, identical twins born into a family already too large for an overpopulated world, forcing their family to pay governmental penalties. They are discovered by the Long Range Foundation, or LRF, a nonprofit organization that has amassed enormous wealth by funding basic research without an eye toward short-term gains (Heinlein throwing in a plug for the funding of science for science’s sake). The LRF is building its own space program, sending ships to nearby stars. But the first ship has been lost, and the LRF is looking for a way of communicating with their explorers. This has led the organization to study telepaths, and they’ve discovered that the ability sometimes manifests between twins.
Offering the Bartlett family a great deal of money, they conduct tests on Tom and Pat, and the boys find that their secret form of whispering is actually unintelligible to others, and they have been communicating telepathically for years. The twins are offered a chance to work as LRF communicators, with one staying on Earth and the other traveling to the stars. The exploration effort is part of what is called Project Lebensraum, a program to ease overpopulation through colonization. Heinlein’s use of that German term has distasteful connotations to me, as it is the word used by Hitler and the Nazis to describe a program of clearing territories in eastern Europe to make room for German expansion.
Pat is the more dominant of the twins, and is soon in training to go into space. This seemed to me an interesting narrative choice by Heinlein, as the book is told from Tom’s perspective. But Pat is paralyzed by a skiing accident, and soon it is Tom that’s being sent out on the torchship Lewis and Clark, nicknamed the Elsie. The ship launches from the Pacific as its power plant is highly radioactive, which raises the question of why it isn’t kept in orbit. Tom is glad to find one familiar face aboard—his uncle Steve, a space marine who leads the security detachment. The readers are introduced to the crew, which is ethnically diverse, a notable and progressive feature of many of Heinlein’s juveniles. And, unlike other male-oriented Heinlein juveniles, there are even women onboard the Elsie, serving in science roles and as telepathic communicators.
The book introduces the reader to shipboard life in a section that feels rather perfunctory. Two subplots, involving Tom’s trouble with a young and spoiled roommate, and his romantic feelings for a female telepath whose domineering twin on Earth squashes the relationship, are dealt with almost as soon as they are introduced. In a first sign of the effect of relativity, he finds his twin on Earth celebrating their birthday days before the event occurs aboard ship. One element I did enjoy in this part of the book was Tom working with a psychologist to come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t particularly like Pat, who has bullied him all his life, and the psychologist reminding him that while you should tolerate members of your family, you do not have to like them. Coming to this realization, Tom finds that he gets along better with his distant brother.
There is a welcome narrative jump that takes the ship to its first destination. One of the things I like about Heinlein stories is his attention to detail. When he tells you how long a journey takes, you know he worked out the math. And his stars are real stars; the planetary systems are plausible, given the scientific knowledge of the day. He even takes the time on one planet to describe the skies, and how far-away stars are in familiar places, but stars closer to Earth have visibly moved in their position.
The first planet the Elsie visits proves to be an excellent candidate for colonization, with ecology compatible with human life (although how that occurred is not explained), and no intelligent life to clash with. The torchship takes on water as fuel and departs. The crew, however, is thinned by a disease that breaks out after they leave, despite considerable precautions. They find that telepathic communication when nearing lightspeed is nearly impossible due to time dilation—and telepathic links can be lost forever during that period. Fortunately, they discover that telepaths can develop new links with the descendants of their original twins/partners, and by the end of the journey, Tom is communicating with his grandniece, Vicky.
The second system they visit has no Earth-like worlds, and they take on ammonia due to the lack of available water. While the last planet they visit appears attractive, they find it populated with hostile aliens, and even more crew members are lost. They soon find themselves being led by a backup Captain who wants to press on with their mission despite a crew barely capable of keeping the ship functioning, and a cadre of telepaths so depleted they may lose contact with Earth. Mutiny is brewing among the demoralized crew.
And now I will move into spoiler territory, so skip down to “Final Thoughts” if you want to avoid learning the ending of the book.
SPOILERS FOLLOW
While the Elsie has been voyaging, Earth has developed faster-than-light travel, and a ship meets them to install a drive so that they can return home immediately. This saves them from the almost certain doom of following an inflexible captain on a voyage they are not capable of completing. It also brings Tom into contact with his now much older twin brother. After all, a book examining the “twin paradox” would feel incomplete without a comparison of the two after the relativistic journey.
What is a surprise is that Tom’s grandniece immediately proposes marriage to him upon his arrival. This was foreshadowed when someone during the journey mused that by the time they arrive home, the descendants who will be their peers will be so genetically removed from the travelers that they will be at most like distant cousins. But Tom’s decision to marry a relative, however distant genetically, whom he has known telepathically since she was a young child just feels distasteful to me. Heinlein’s practice of exploring incestuous relationships is something I feel marred much of his later work, and I never expected to find it showing up in one of his juvenile novels. I could find nothing on the internet addressing the topic, but I wonder how that ending made it past Heinlein’s usually cautious editor for the juveniles, Alice Dalgliesh.
Final Thoughts
Time for the Stars, at least in my opinion, spends too much time being a thought experiment, and not enough time being a compelling narrative. While it has some powerful scenes, they do not hang together as well as they do in Heinlein’s other novels. It seems like he loses interest in the idea of exploring other worlds, shortchanging readers on the journey, and rushing to bring the tale to its conclusion. And the twist that brings the story to a close is not one that I found appealing, to say the least. And now I look forward to hearing from you, and your thoughts on Time for the Stars in particular, or Heinlein’s juveniles in general. Did you find the “twin paradox” thought experiment a good foundation for a story, or did you find that it detracted from the narrative?
Just a reminder that you’re welcome to disagree with opinions expressed in the article or in comments, but be civil and constructive in your responses, and avoid making disagreements personal. Thanks.
Alan, I’ve loved reading your reviews and appreciate your taking the time work work through the Heinlein juveniles. You are a person of keen insight, but in this case I came down opposite you. But for very personal reasons. Although it is a juvenile, it was my very first SF book beyond children’s illustrated books. And therefore so many of the ideas were new and eye opening to me.
Specifically this was the first book I could remember where characters did not end up where they started from ala Wizard of Oz, or “the boy woke up and it was just a dream”. These people lived for years and returned to a world that was nothing like they’d left. Much predating Haldeman’s “Forever War”. I appreciated all the changes Tom had to go through as he moved from teenager to young adult: jobs with real responsibilities, socialization, marriages, births and deaths of close friends and relatives. He had to hear about he parent’s dying long after they’d passed back on earth. This was all moving stuff to a young reader.
As for falling in love with his great great niece, Heinlein always was a big ol’ romantic in terms of characters being struck by a bolt from the blue even if they didn’t make logical sense. You had the feeling there was more of a connection between Tom and his niece than just the verbal exchanges they had. In today’s world we might pull back from depicting such a familial connection, but at the time I bought into it fully.
So I know I can’t be objective about this book. It got me started reading all of Heinlein and introduced more adult concepts to me at a young age. My original copy still sits proudly on my featured bookshelf. I’ll always be sentimental about it.
I understand how you feel. As I recall, Have Spacesuit Will Travel was my first Heinlein juvenile. And guess which is my favorite?
” I had read a library copy of the book when I lived in Northern Virginia back in the early 1980s.”
If you got it at the Dolley Madison Library that may well have been the copy I read. Almost none of which I remember, other than I didn’t feel a need to reread it ever.
I always thought the encroaching incest in his later novels was a symptom of him becoming too popular as a writer. Much like later Stephen King or J.K. Rowling novels editors are scared to stand up to the author and properly edit their works.
I suppose it is inevitable that some readers simply can not separate their personal predilections from the material in a narrative. This inability is a useful mechanism by which manipulative types keep masses of people at odds with each other. Empathy requires us to suppress this tendency in order to “walk in an others shoes”. One of Heinlein’s appealing qualities is the willingness to explore various social, personal, and psychological alternatives in a similar manner that he extrapolates various scientific and technological possibilities. I have never accepted the notion that these explorations of disparate human dynamics were ever a reflection of the authors actual beliefs and convictions. So, it is with these understandings that I gratefully immersed my imagination into the worlds that Heinlein created. Whether it be some quasi-Fascist world government dominated by military veterans or an imagined future of gun-toting anarchists. The ride, for me, was always entertaining, thought provoking, and engaging. As for human sexual relations, all that is occurring in todays society makes Heinlein’s predictions seem quaint by comparison. “Time for the Stars’ was never one of my favorite outings from Heinlein but I could appreciate what it was swinging for. I began my romance with Heinlein through “Rocketship Galileo”. It took me years to realize that the theme of “Nazi’s on the moon” could be interpreted as a nod to Von Braun. Heinlein’s tongue must have been firmly in cheek to pull that one off. Always a pleasure to discuss one of my all time favorite author’s.
A fascinating way of blaming a reviewer for pointing up flaws in a narrative.
I’m not generally a fan of picaresque novels, so Time for the Stars is already fighting uphill for me. But I enjoy The Rolling Stones, while I never even remember Time for the Stars is a Heinlein juvenile; I’d even place it after Rocketship Galileo.
Even worse, I find this one is tilting towards some Heinlein cliches I am not found of (legal authority versus competence, love between underage female relative and protagonist, humanity uber alles).
I do appreciate the two twists of which twin eventually spaces, and humanity creating a fast star drive.
But how are we even talking about incest? In the first place, it’s a Heinlein juvenile–so, while there might be marriage, there’s no sex! More importantly though, most cultures define incest as a closer relationship than first cousin, which this isn’t.
I feel you’re letting am imaginary issue cloud you’re feelings.
This may not fit the legal definition of incest, unlike (e.g.) the twins in Time Enough to Fool Around. However, relationships between a guardian and a ward (The Door into Summer), or generally between a male and a female who has grown up linked to him, are … fraught, just as relationships between a teacher and a student are; the issue is unequal power, which may not be bound to a specific kinship.
I remember not being tripped up by the incest subsubplot when I read this — but that was back when I was not much older than the target market, and hadn’t seen how obsessed Heinlein became with sex between older men and younger related women. (My first RAH hit of this was The Door into Summer, which I read in 8th grade, when I was fascinated by the tech deets, ignored most of the social, and completely missed the slam at farm subsidies.) I wonder whether Dalgliesh didn’t object because the whole idea of an older man “guiding” a girl/youngwoman was vaguely respectable in a time when women were expected to follow men’s leads, where the idea of peers was frowned on and youngman/olderwoman was Oedipal.
As you note, this book gets right that putting on more power just increases dilatation , rather than ~”finding out what the square root of minus one looks like from the inside” as suggested in the early chapters of Farmer in the Sky; I wonder whether Heinlein decided there’d been enough teaching for that point in the latter.
The family dynamics are interesting; I wonder whether Heinlein knew a model he was riffing on.
RAH’s incest thing is ick, and amounts to a pretty consistent thread through his work, Time for the Stars bangs along fiarly well until the end, when the deus ex machina faster than light drive shows up and Tom gets to marry his niece. It’s almost as though Heinlein got board with it, and decided to wrap it up with some illicit sex.
How can the FTL drive be a deus ex machina? He established right from the get go that telepathy was FTL. There were lengthy conversations whether it was merely a multiplier of the speed of light or truly instantaneous and what that would mean for revolutionizing physics. The groundwork was all laid ahead of time. Part of the narrative that the only thing constant was change. From sailing ships to rockets to torchships. And then onto the next. And in fact, Tunnel in the Sky references torchships early on, so the instantaneous gates could be seen as a direct descendent of the FTL ship we see at the end of Time for the Stars, keeping these in the same storyline.
to Chip 137
Door into Summer wasn’t a juvenile. It was published by Doubleday not Scribner. But it does share that same incestuous feeling relationship, so perhaps it speaks more to the time that editors were not upset.
I Time, like a number of Heinlein books, psi powers/telepathy play a major, an odd idea really for a hard SF writer