Book Review: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Summary: Seconds before the Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out-of-work actor.

Together this dynamic pair begin a journey through space aided by quotes from The Hitchhiker's Guide ("A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have") and a galaxy-full of fellow travelers: Zaphod Beeblebrox--the two-headed, three-armed ex-hippie and totally out-to-lunch president of the galaxy; Trillian, Zaphod's girlfriend (formally Tricia McMillan), whom Arthur tried to pick up at a cocktail party once upon a time zone; Marvin, a paranoid, brilliant, and chronically depressed robot; Veet Voojagig, a former graduate student who is obsessed with the disappearance of all the ballpoint pens he bought over the years. 

Where are these pens? Why are we born? Why do we die? Why do we spend so much time between wearing digital watches? For all the answers stick your thumb to the stars. And don't forget to bring a towel!


The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is without a doubt one of the most bizarre books I've ever read. It's almost--but not quite--seems like a parody of the space opera genre. It takes advantage of the imagination and suspension of disbelief inherent in science fiction, and runs wild with outlandish concepts and absurd plots. I sometimes think fiction could use more absurd stories, suspension of disbelief being what it is, so Hitchhiker is sort of a breath of fresh air in that respect.

One of the main themes of the books--Hitchhiker is the first book in the a series--is insignificance. It comes back to that a lot, in both explicit and implicit ways. "Everything is meaningless," it seems to say at points. "The Universe is so infinitely huge that nothing matters, because what can one insignificant being with a  lifespan of maybe ninety years do in a universe so big?" It's a solidly atheistic viewpoint--although I wouldn't say it's more atheistic than most sci-fi, like say Star Trek or Starship Troopers. It's just more honest about it.

That being said, Hitchhiker isn't a philosophical work of fiction in the same way Starship Troopers is. It's a story first and foremost, punctuated by interludes from the Hitchhiker's Guide itself. These interludes always tie into the story, and describe the larger galaxy in an oft-familiar way. Douglas Adams's galaxy is a lot like Earth in a lot of ways, albeit with much greater scale. And the titular Guide takes hardly any of it seriously--it often doesn't even take itself seriously, thanks to a collection of frustrated, underpaid, and self-serving editors. So we're left with a book--a fictional book and an actual book--that's absurd and irreverent and hilarious. It's not to everyone's taste, certainly. It's a wild ride, even when you know what's coming. But, well--it's fun. It's got elements of depth and shallowness at the same time. It's an almost dizzying spectacle, but it's fun, and since that's its primary aim, it's enjoyable. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it, because it's definitely not to everyone's taste. But if you like some of the weirder aspects of sci-fi, well, it just might be worth checking out.