Stranger in a Strange Land

Harshaw, it has been suggested, is the narrative mouthpiece of Heinlein himself. A curmudgeon and isolationist, Harshaw makes a great show of his misanthropy, but those close to him see it as a pose. While he claims to treasure his privacy above all else, he welcomes into his enclave those in need. He takes Gillian and Smith in at great personal risk, even acting as Smith’s attorney and representative in the face of Federation authority. The only thing he enjoys more than his privacy is poking his finger into the eye of authority. Harshaw is the novel’s great voice of libertarianism, arguing that people should be left alone to do as they wish, despite the moral objections of outsiders. To Harshaw, the greatest virtue is personal happiness, a conviction that allows him to grok Smith when all others are scratching their heads. It is Harshaw’s accumulated wisdom that elevates him in Smith’s eyes to “father” and patron saint of his nascent church.

Harshaw’s frequent discourses about art, human behavior, politics, and religion make him the de facto spokesperson for the author, whose well-known libertarian views run parallel to Harshaw’s. Not a sentimentalist by nature, he nevertheless grows to love Smith and even joins his church. Smith’s discorporation breaks his heart when the other members of the church celebrate it. He is still on the outside, not fully enough a part of the church to find joy in Smith’s brutal murder. He does come around eventually, and therein lies Harshaw’s growth as a character. He finally regards his cynicism as a pose, just like that of those close to him, and he opens his heart to Smith’s message of love.

Boardman, a nurse assigned to Smith’s hospital wing when he arrives from Mars, sneaks into his room and unwittingly engages in a sacred ritual—sharing water—that will bond her to the Man from Mars forever. It’s a testament to Gillian’s compassion, courage, and open-mindedness that she not only facilitates Smith’s escape from the hospital (at great personal risk), but remains by his side, learning from him and sharing with him when it would be just as easy to leave him with Harshaw and return to her old life. She is not afraid of his radical ideas. She has an instinctive sense of adventure that propels her forward with him into a strange world of unconventional jobs and unconventional people. She is free of the possessiveness and jealousy that might otherwise jeopardize her ability to love Smith fully. Just as Smith is an eager pupil to Harshaw, Gillian is just as eager to learn from Smith. She views Smith’s message as a revolutionary and necessary step in the evolution of the human species.

Ace reporter Ben Caxton, journalist and romantic partner to Gillian Boardman, serves as the voice of the people in a world overseen by a massive, global government that often functions below the radar. The journalist’s job, as Caxton sees it, is to hold those in power accountable, and as such, he makes plenty of enemies. Secretary General Douglas refers to him as “poisonous…a keyhole sniffer of the worst sort” (169). He cites freedom of the press when he walks into the hospital demanding to interview Smith, convinced he’s being held against his will. His job has given Caxton a cynical edge, an edge that only Smith’s message of love can soften. Heinlein, always suspicious of authority, gives Caxton a heroic side, a nod to the fortitude of journalists everywhere who refuse to comply, who ask difficult but necessary questions, and who aren’t afraid to challenge the status quo (especially when the status quo means holding private citizens hostage). In the end, Caxton, like Harshaw, sheds his cynicism and opens his mind to revolutionary possibilities.

Smith and Gillian meet Patricia when they take jobs with a traveling carnival. Patricia, the tattooed lady, is inked from head to toe, and many of the images depicting religious iconography, primarily of the prophet Foster. Patricia is completely comfortable with her nudity, making her an ideal receptacle for Smith’s doctrine of love and acceptance and of individual godhood. The three form a bond almost immediately, and in short order, they tell her the truth about Smith’s origin and become water brothers. Despite Gillian and Smith’s deep bond, Sam (one of the inner circle) tells Harshaw, “‘If anybody is Mike’s wife, it’s Patty’” (402). With her tattoos and her pet snakes, Patricia is exoticism personified, yet for all her unconventionality, she is grounded in her own body, accepting and unapologetic. She is open to Smith’s message almost before he utters it, and she becomes a high priestess alongside Gillian and Dawn, moving to the Ninth Circle quickly. Patricia exemplifies Smith’s understanding that nudity, sex, and spirituality are not mutually exclusive, that not only can they coexist, but for humanity to evolve, they must.

Heinlein has faced charges of misogyny for his portrayal of women, and it would be easy to point to Harshaw’s three secretaries—Anne, Dorcas, and Miriam—as proof. Harshaw orders them around like chattel, they often do little more than frolic by the pool, cook, take dictation, and flatter their aging boss. At the same time, a closer reading reveals them to be capable, intelligent women who either don’t tolerate Harshaw’s gruff demeanor or simply see him for who he is—an old man, perhaps mired in the sexism of a previous generation, but harmless. They recognize that his threats to “spank” them are empty ones, that it’s merely playful banter, and they give as good as they get. When Harshaw dictates a particularly awful story to Anne, she tells him, “Someday I’m going to kick you right in your fat stomach for one of these” (82).

For her part, Anne is a licensed “Fair Witness,” a job requiring logic, observational skills, and dispassion. All three possess organizational and administrative skills, and along with Duke and Larry, the women run Harshaw’s household like a tight ship. Harshaw admits he’d be lost without them, but his reliance on their behind-the-scenes work (while he makes all the executive decisions) reveals a patriarchal distribution of power that remains as a vestige of the traditional world Harshaw claims to want to overthrow.

Secretary General of the global Federation government, Douglas at first appears to be just another corrupt politician, conducting a televised interview with a fake Man from Mars to control the message and assuage a restless public. He also appears to be under the control of his wife, Agnes, who dictates policy based on the advice of her astrologer. These characterizations are superficial, however. Douglas is an astute politician, and even Harshaw is careful not to underestimate him. While Harshaw has the upper hand in their negotiations, Douglas is never caught off-guard, always aware of the game and how it’s being played. Harshaw compromises, allowing Douglas to manage Smith’s finances partly because he knows the will is tamper-proof but also because Smith sees it as a personal favor, a favor Harshaw wants to honor.