Mark Watney is an American astronaut on a mission to Mars with his crewmates. He is the botanist leaving a log behind, y’know, in case anyone ever finds it. I mean, the first sentence for LOG SOL 6 is: “I’m pretty much f***ed.” And you learn why on that first page, and why his crew thought he was dead and left him there alone, and with ravenous compulsion you just have to read on.
It runs with the pacing of an almost-thriller, except in place of clichéd cliffhangers, you get considerably legit science while this guy, this botanist from NASA, is forced to jury-rig the means for his survival. This includes everything from ensuring he has enough water (which he makes himself by igniting hydrogen and trying not to blow himself up… again), figuring out how to make soil that can support life by mixing Martian soil with, well, poo (tasty, right?), and modifying rovers for long-distance re-con. Meanwhile, he doesn’t even know if Earth knows he’s alive, and it’s not until NASA finally allows satellite imagery of the site that they start to notice things were not as the emergency evacuation mission reports claimed….
It’s so well researched, it could almost be real for all we know, except that Mark Watney hasn’t made international headlines. But in this tale, maybe he should. This book will take you for a hell of a ride and I can guarantee you are not going to want it to end. Well, except happily. That geeky botanist is pretty hilarious and seems like a really nice guy, after all, and you really, really do hope he can make it back to Earth somehow.
And man, you won’t believe how people can come together to save a person’s life. It kind of restores your faith in humanity a little.
But seriously. Go grab yourself a copy. It’s just awesome.
I vividly remember when I was twelve and had to do a project on something to do with space. I picked Mars. My friend and I partnered up for this big project and poured over those Eye Witness encyclopedias hunting for all the coolest facts we could find. I still remember Valles Marineris, one of the largest canyons in the solar system, and Olympus Mons, the second tallest mountain. In fact, we even recorded an audio tape cassette play-by-play for our class. We were astronauts crash-landing on the Martian surface, reeling out our collection of facts as they became relevant in our “docudrama.” We altered our voices by talking through a motorized fan, and made sound effects by running our hands on the metal cover for that fan, or simply by banging things on the bookshelf or what have you. It was completely ridiculous, really, but to this day it’s one of my favourite things that I ever “made” as a kid. And when I read the opening chapter of The Martian by Andy Weir, I had flashbacks to the awesomeness of that completely uninhibited childhood imagination and when I dreamt of someday being an astronaut. Except this time it was backed with science and I got a pretty close idea of the experience, in the event that being stranded alone on Mars was ever part of that childhood dream. (It wasn’t.)