Chapter 2:

“When we were set Robert Heinlein’s ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ to crit, I was left unsure where to start. That book was notorious when it first came out, I read, so how do we view it without prior bias?”

Reg gave a little laugh. “I suspect that was a trap, Frances. We were expected to find reviews from the period, and simply slap together a melange of them, under the guise of our own intellectual examination. We would be slapped down for that.

Like so many other examples, the reviewer sees everything through the eyes of a person of his time. All the reviews of the period are skewed towards the prevailing social climate of America. Even UK reviews were influenced by American viewpoints, for the book itself was written by an American, and most American novels adopt the radical views of the teenage/early twenties scene of late fifties/ early sixties America.”

“So what should we do instead?” Frances queried.

“The least obvious strategy, Frances: read the novel first, with the eyes of a person of our own time. I think we will find that our views will be very different from those of the earlier period. My own background research says that he sat on the manuscript until the time was right for it to be accepted; so he himself saw it as relevant to a particular episode in the US’s psyche.”

Frances surprised him. “Reg, I have actually been through the novel. I read it a couple of years back. One classmate of mine told me it was salacious, and urged me to read it; but I thought it was fairly tame compared to what is happening nowadays, particularly online.”

“There you are, Frances. You already have the basis for your critique. It struck a chord with the open minds of the time – it came out in 1961. That was the start of the Kennedy period; when the US civil rights movement got going with protest bus rides; and President Kennedy announced the US programme to send a man to the moon and back.

You can see how the ideas of space exploration and social revolution were getting established in the American mind: Heinlein’s novel fitted into that mindset. A human, born on Mars and raised by Martians, starting a social revolution on Earth: that proved to be an idea that was of its time.”

“So what was so great about his writing then?”

“Nothing in particular. His later novels and story collections never gained the popularity of that one novel. That shows it was not so much his writing skill, but more being able to strike a chord with a sympathetic readership.”

“But, Reg, that novel stayed in print for donkey’s years. It wasn’t just appreciated in the 1960s.”

“That is a fact, but the later readership, as with most ‘classic’ novels, was based on the previous popularity. The next generation wanted to see what was so special about the book, rather than the book’s premises appealing to them. Its popularity caused it to be popular!”

Frances objected, “But that premise is not based on the book as literature. it is business; the publishers pushing a controversial book to make more money.”

“So, what’s new? The famous novel, ‘Robinson Crusoe’ was written as a fictionalised version of a true story of a year or two before, though Defoe may have used similar accounts as his research materials. In the real life story, the sailor got annoyed with his crew-mates, and asked to be put ashore at the next island. It turned out to be uninhabited, and he spent years there on his own. When he was found, rescued, and returned to England, this true adventure inspired the spy Daniel Defoe to write his novel simply to take advantage of the public fascination with such adventures. He made it more exciting than the real life story, and made a fortune from it. Business acumen again.”

“That sounds a good basis for a report, but we can’t all turn in reports that are much the same.”

“True. Someone can concentrate more on Heinlein’s life and how that influenced his writing. I read for example, that it was his wife who suggested the plot line. She thought that an updated version of Rudyard Kipling’s ‘The Jungle Book’ might work, featuring a man brought up by Martians instead of the Jungle Book’s wolves. Kipling’s premise for that tale was rubbish, as later research into feral children proved. These kids in reality, never learned to be properly human again. There is a period in a child’s life where it lays down the basic knowledge for survival, such as speech and ability to get food and shelter, and if it fails to get it in that period, it is too late. The feral mindset is established.

You could make comparisons with the Kipling book, in how Mowgli’s human society viewed this feral child.

Another way might be to compare Kipling’s strange youthful experiences between England and India with Heinlein’s steady US Naval career, and how they embarked on their writing styles. They each wrote a number of books for children, but they were completely different in approach.”

“Gosh, Reg. I was right about you! You will be a great tutor for us ... uh, yes, for us. You could end up as a teacher, once you graduate.”

“We shall see. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I want to simply concentrate on what I have to do to achieve my degree. If I don’t get that, all such plans go out the window.”

“Anyway, I was right in my choice. Which approach are you going to take in your essay, Reg?”

“I think I will look at how Heinlein’s novel added new words to the English language, such as ‘Grok’, and how he pushed the idea of polyamory. The concept was there in the past, at least as far back as the middle of the 19th century, but Heinlein made it fashionable to an extent.”

“That’s fascinating, Reg. Polyamory? New to me. Will you tell us a bit more about polyamory, when we all get together?”

“I suppose so, but who are the ‘all’ you are talking about?”

“Oh, nobody definite yet. I have some ideas though. I’ll ask around and find out who could benefit from tutoring and be willing to help you in other ways in return. We need both aspects to balance out.”

Reg thought this was a bit vague, but put it down to Frances’ new plans for a study group at her house. He was now starting to wonder about how he would get home to his room in the university dorm. He raised this with Francis.

“Oh, don’t worry, Reg. Either I will drive you back, or you can stay over. There are several vacant bedrooms in this house, so you will be fine either way.”

“Uh, I haven’t any overnight stuff with me, Frances.” He felt embarrassed to admit this. She waved this off as inconsequential.

“Oh, you worry too much, Reg. The en-suite bathrooms all have toothbrushes and toothpaste, shower gel, and things like that, so you will be okay,” she told him, then went on, “You don’t HAVE to stay over, Reg. The possibility is just there, should the need or opportunity arise, so don’t fret. Now, can we get down to our evening’s studies?”

They settled down to work, and around ten p.m. at his request she got the car ready, and drove him back to the dorm building, dropping him off as close as she could manage. Reg was relieved, as had felt ill at ease with little control of events.

The next afternoon, as they met between classes, she said to him, “Reg, we have a couple of other students joining us tonight. They liked what I had to say, it seems. You are getting a reputation for knowing what is what, and that counts for a lot with students.”

“Oh, right. Does that mean you are picking me up again?”

“Naturally. This time, bring an overnight bag, and you can leave it at the house, for future use. We’ll meet same time, same place, if that is fine with you?”

“Sure. I feel a little bit more comfortable with it now. Yesterday everything felt strange.”

“Okay. On your part, try to be open to suggestions for better social interaction. No-one will be trying to undermine you, Reg. They are trying to be nice, I assure you.”

“If you say so, Frances.”

“I do. You have to build up your confidence among other people, Reg. This is a good opportunity for this to happen. Listen to what is being said, please.”

“Um. I suppose so. I’ll leave it to you to sort out, Frances.”

“That’s my boy. You’ve got it now.”

He turned up at his usual spot for collection, but when the car appeared, there was not just Frances inside, but two other girls as well. He recognised them from a couple of his classes as plain janes who were not particularly friendly with anyone, but he managed to come out with, “Oh. Hi, girls.”

Frances commanded him, “Jump in, Reg. No time to waste.”

He clambered into the car. One of the girls, Freda Dangerfield, was in the front passenger seat, so he had to get in the back with the other girl, Erika Platts. He sat uncomfortably with his briefcase on his lap, trying not to get too close to his fellow passenger. She looked at Reg, and eased over to sit closer to him.

He did not know what to do, so sat rigid, stuck for something to say or do. He was terrified he would say something wrong, or inappropriate, or stupid. Erika turned to him, saying, “So you are going to be our tutor tonight, Reg?”

“Uh-huh,” was all he could manage.

“We are looking forward to see what we can learn from you, Reg. You have a reputation for being good at most of your subjects, even if you don’t talk much outside of class.”

He dragged out of himself, “Thank you.” She smiled sweetly, and placed a hand on his leg, and patted him, apparently innocently, but it frightened him again. He tensed once more, and remained quiet for the rest of the journey.

They arrived in good time, the traffic being less congested today. They climbed out, and Frances led the way to the house. Once she had opened the door to let them in, she announced, “We have a few more things in the kitchen and in the freezer today. I did some shopping this morning, before I went to the uni, and stocked up for our evening meal.”

Freda exclaimed, “Oh, you shouldn’t have, Frances,” but Frances rejoined, “My folks give me an allowance, so I have to find something to spend it on, Freda.”

Reg carefully kept silent, as he had nothing to contribute to the meal. Erika turned to face him and said, “Reg is working for his supper. He has a lot to pound into our skulls. He is good at that, Frances, you said?”

“Yes, he can pound it in all right.”

Reg stiffened.

Freda sniffed. She was presumably the eldest of the group, and had chosen the guise of unofficial den mother. “Stop that, Frances. You’ll embarrass him.”

Reg had indeed gone red, having recognised the innuendo, but he said nothing, as the safest solution. He pretended not to have heard the words.

They decided that they should eat first, before embarking on the studying. That pleasantness was too short, to Reg’s mind, but he knew tutoring was his basic pay for the evening.

Frances organised the tutoring session. She got each girl to say what they found difficult in each subject, then asked Reg if he could shed any light on the problem of understanding. In most cases he was able to say how he had seen it, and where he had gone in his thinking. In a number of instances, this was all the girls needed to take it from there, and get to the solution they sought for themselves.