“If a hiker gets lost in the woods, people will coordinate a
search. If a train crashes, people will line up to give blood. If an earthquake
levels a city, people all over the world will send emergency supplies. This is
so fundamentally human that it’s found in every culture without exception. Yes,
there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by
the people who do.” – Andy Weir, The
Martian
BEFORE READING ON: Watch the trailer for the film adaption of The Martian first, so that I'm not held responsible for potentially spoiling anything for you. Cheers.
WARNING: MILD SPOILERS AHEAD
DISCLAIMER: This
review is, first and foremost, constructed upon my personal reaction to the
book. I can’t forecast whether or not you’ll like it yourself, not only because
I’m terrible at recommendations because I always assume that people will like
everything I like. If you decide to read this book because of this review and
end up not enjoying it, I humbly apologise. Please don’t get your hopes up if
you think they might be let down. I think this novel is the second coming of
Christ, but that’s a matter of opinion.
Ever looked up at the night sky
and wondered what it might be like to get stranded on Mars? Me neither, but now
I don’t have to: Andy Weir’s The Martian has
done all the wondering for me. (Ever wondered what Matt Damon looks like in a
space suit? The Martian does all that
wondering for you, too. True boys.) I picked up The Martian on a whim earlier in the year, and I’m so glad that I
did, because this book is honestly incredible. I might be a little bit biased,
given that anything and everything to do with space childishly enthrals me, but
hear me out: The Martian is more than
just a space book. Sure, it’s quite literally entirely comprised of wordy and
articulate astronomical jargon, but it’s also a tale of humbling humanity. It’s
about life and death and desperately fighting for one while the other looms
over your head; it’s about smarts and cleverness and problem-solving under a
lethal time limit, faith and fear and finding the will to go on as life keeps
fucking you over, but mostly, it’s about loyalty, and how far we will go to
save each other, even when the odds of survival are zero to none. (Plus, it’s
about space. FRICKING SPACE. How cool is that?!) The Martian is the first book I’ve read all year that has simply
refused to give me a god damn break, and I personally can’t thank it enough.
First, let’s talk about suspense,
and how The Martian has it nailed
down to a fine art. In books or on the big screen, the only thing I’ve found
that comes even close to matching The
Martian’s intensity is the climax of Ben Affleck’s Argo, which was so stressful that I could barely watch it. Yet
somehow, The Martian managed to be
even more so. How did Weir do it? By making his protagonist the most likeable
guy ever, of course. Mark Watney becomes stranded on Mars after a freak
accident leads the rest of his mission team to believe him dead, but does he
let that get him down? Hell no, he doesn’t. He’s described by his teammates as
being excellent at solving problems, so excellent that it’s almost unrealistic,
but while in some cases this would drag the story down, in this case the exact
opposite occurs: Watney’s insatiable optimism and belligerent refusal to give
up make you root for him harder than I rooted for Ben and Leslie to get
together on Parks and Recreation,
which is really saying something. The book is so suspenseful because you want
Watney to survive so badly. Mars
being Mars, it perpetually throws obstacle after obstacle Watney’s way, and
each time you find yourself gritting your teeth a little harder, clenching your
fists a little tighter, because oh God,
there’s no way he’s going to survive that
one. Some people hate suspense. I,
personally, love it. This book has been dubbed a thriller, and I couldn’t agree
more: there is nothing more thrilling than the most lovable character in recent
literature having to desperately fight for every day of his life.
I’m a reasonably knowledgeable
and intelligent person, but I don't know jack about space. Doesn’t matter. The Martian knows everything about
space, and better yet, it knows just how to translate all that astronomy
mumbo-jumbo into comprehendible English. This was something I greatly enjoyed
about the book. From the start, it was clear that Andy Weir is a nerdy guy –
and I'm talking I-know-fifty-digits-of-pi-and-taught-myself-quantum-mechanics-for-fun
nerdy, not I-love-Star-Wars-and-Pokémon nerdy – but it was also clear that he understood what an
outlier his extensive knowledge of space and space travel made him, and so he
kindly dumbed it down just enough for us Earthling simpletons to understand. Of
course, the sheer density of the technical language could have gone either way.
Filling your fiction novel with enough jargon to give a textbook a run for its
money could have seriously backfired, but Weir, it seems, is about as lucky as
Mark Watney: his attention to detail, aside from being incredibly accurate, only
does him credit. Far from being bored by the compact, complex NASA-speak I was
being bombarded with, I was simply fascinated; I was learning all about space
travel and how to live on freaking Mars without
having to experience the danger and hardship myself. Weir’s technical accuracy
allowed true and complete immersion, while his knack for putting it simply
disallowed any of it from going over my head. It made the book, like Watney,
extra likeable, and I doubt the novel’s suspenseful atmosphere (pun intended)
could have been maintained without it.
So Watney is a Stand-Up Guy, and
he knows a lot about space. What, exactly, makes him so damn worth saving, and
worth reading about? In the end, Weir has led me to believe that it might not
be about Watney at all. Sure, not a single person has a bad word to say about
our reluctant hero, but I’d make the argument that what makes Watney worth the
billions of dollars NASA flings at trying to retrieve him doesn’t have anything to do
with his shmuck attitude and charitable personality. Maniacal is the way I would
describe it: the directors and researchers and engineers and astronauts at NASA
are maniacal in their efforts to save Watney, but it’s not because they love
Watney oh so very much. It’s because Watney is human, and humans help each
other no matter what the cost. Touching and truthful is the true theme of Weir’s
debut: the idea that our potent humanity creates out of us a band of brothers,
a brotherhood of man, and that our allegiance to this comes with a motto: leave
no man behind. Recognising this universal human trait, Weir put it directly
into action, and this is why the book is so brilliant, why NASA throws
everything they’ve got into trying to get their boy home. When another person is in
danger, we launch ourselves into the line of fire to get them out of it,
regardless of the consequences. That makes us human. That makes us worth
saving. (And honestly, if you wouldn’t jump in front of a train for Mark
Watney, what kind of monster are you?)
TL;DR: The Martian
presented a conundrum to me, because I wanted it to end as much as I never want
it to end at all. I've had a pretty unimpressive reading year so far, but this
book -- this blessed, beautiful book -- redeemed absolutely every terrible tale
I've been subject to in the last six months. Context considered, it was an
oddly fun read -- Mark Watney, Earth's (or, more accurately, Mar's) Mightiest
Hero, has an astute ability to make light of a dreadfully dark situation -- but
it was also the most stressful book I've ever read in my entire life (this is a
good -- no, a great thing!). The last time I was as wired as I was while
reading The Martian was when I watched Argo in history class last year, and if
you've seen Argo, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Andy Weir's debut
had it all: thrilling suspense, light-hearted fun, a dynamic cast of
wonderfully diverse characters, and fascinating, fluent, factually-accurate
science that even the dullest student would find stimulating. Andy Weir, I
thank you. You've saved my reading year.
