This is not a review, and I don't hand out stars either. It is part of my annotated reading list. Whatever first comes to mind when I pick up the book. More about it in this blog post.
written on October 28, 2026, read January 2019
There is science fiction like “Armageddon” or, if you insist, “The Core”, which is occasionally somewhat entertaining but has about as much to do with science as the Pope has to do with artificial contraception. And there is science fiction that doesn’t make every halfway science-minded brain attempt a suicidal leap out of its skull.
“The Martian” is a great example of science fiction of the latter kind. Yes, I know, Neil deGrasse Tyson pointed out that the storms on Mars aren’t strong enough to knock over a spacecraft, but the book and the film can be forgiven for that. In the time it takes to get annoyed about it, other science fiction stories have already sinned against the laws of nature ten times over and papered over it with a bit of technobabble. Unobtainium … oh, please.
That’s why I love both the film and the book. I don’t even know how many times I’ve watched the film by now.
What was unrealistic about the book was something else entirely: does anyone seriously believe that people would spend that much money to rescue a single astronaut? I don’t quite share the positive picture of humanity that Andy Weir paints on the last page of the book. In any case, there would be plenty of commentators saying: “Pointless”, “Too expensive” and “Switch off the radio. We’ve planned for that before.” Because the planning for the Moon landing did indeed provide, in case of an emergency, for switching off the radio after the President had said a few words: “[…] AT THE POINT WHEN NASA ENDS COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE MEN:”. And in cosmic dimensions, the Moon is really just outside the front door. In fairness to the NASA of the time, though, a rescue would simply have been technically impossible.
Picking someone up from Mars is, after all, a bit more expensive than searching for a lost hiker. And experience shows that there are always loud people who complain on principle. Then again: maybe it would have been quite simple after all – with sponsor stickers. “This rescue of a dorky botanist was brought to you by CurledToenails energy drinks.” After all, the advertising revenue of a single Super Bowl can already buy you a bit of a space programme. Surely the “hundreds of millions” Mark Watney talks about on the last page could easily be financed with a spectacle that isn’t only watched in the USA …
PS: What the book is unfortunately a little lacking is the soundtrack. I laughed heartily in the cinema when Mark modified the MAV to ABBA’s “Waterloo”. But only briefly … I was the only one laughing in the cinema. But at least it was dark.