Sean gave me a copy of The Martian for my birthday. I’d already read it, but it’s the thought that counts.
“You’ve already read it too, right?” I asked Sean, who always reads the books he gives to me.
“Of course,” he answered with a smile.
Tim hadn’t read it yet, so I gave it to him and he took it home.
The Martian is about an astronaut stranded on Mars who has to figure out how to survive for more than a year until the next scheduled crew arrives. This is my very favorite kind of story: The guy’s got unlimited electric power and can recycle air and water virtually forever, but he’s got much less than a year’s worth of food. And once he figures out how to do that, he’s got to work out how to get to the site where the next crew will land, quite a long ways from where he is. To survive, he has to use his wits. If he panics, or loses hope, he’s shit out of luck. These are the best stories there are.
The Martian is written as if it were a journal recorded by the astronaut, but only until you get about halfway through the book. From there, the novel began to follow the action when the people back on Earth discovered the astronaut they thought was dead actually wasn’t. The transition from journal to story frankly didn’t work for me. I felt like I’d been kicked out of the astronaut’s head and had to suddenly reorient myself in the world. The rest of the book jumped back and forth from the journal to the story, but after being kicked out I wasn’t much interested any more. I kept on reading just to get it over with.
Wonder how Tim likes it?The Martian | 6:03 am CDT
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