Andrew Smith set himself the task of tracking down and interviewing the nine surviving men who walked on the surface of the Moon. The public perception is that so many of them, after their return to Earth found God, found alcohol, found other women. But how much of this was true, and, getting on for 40 years after the Moon landings, how had the astronauts' experiences changed them and their families? What really happened to the Moon Men?
It's surprising that nobody had written such a book before. Some of the lunarnauts have published their own memoirs, but Smith wanted to act as an impartial observer to tell the stories. He had little idea of what he would find, other than what most people believe about the lunarnauts and, indeed, all astronauts: that they are somehow superhuman, a race apart, America's finest.
What he found, of course, was totally different. And what is most surprising, to me, is that the experience of going to the Moon affected the men in so many different ways. Edgar Mitchell set up an organisation called the Institute of Noetic Sciences, which investigates ESP and other paranormal phenomena. Al Bean spends his time painting and selling lunar landscapes, as if trying to recapture that one perfect memory when he stood on the surface of another world. Buzz Aldrin is a space activist, designing future spacecraft and gadgets that even he knows have little chance of ever being built. Charlie Duke and his wife spread the word of the Lord. And then we have the man himself, Neil Armstrong, who withdrew from public life after 1969 and became a very private person, rarely glimpsed in public, shunning his fame and making money through a string of business investments.
This book is also a story about America, Kennedy, NASA, the Soviets and the events which led twelve American heroes to the Moon. There are recurring themes of disappointment, of estrangement, of Machievellian manipulations by NASA and the American establishment. Through the alcoholism and drugs and broken marriages a picture emerges of men who were promised - and given - the Moon but then dumped by their culture, disappearing off the radar as fast as they had streaked across it. Smith comes to the conclusion that we are fascinated with the Twelve because we are fascinated with ourselves, that in them were reflected our own frailties and dreams. Those twelve men played out our dreams, enabling us all to have momentous experiences via proxy. So this book is as much about our culture as it is about the men who went. Apollo was a mirror: it enabled us to look at ourselves, for the first time, from some sort of perspective. After all, the most famous photo from the Apollo programme was not of the Moon, but of the Earth.
Smith starts the book not really having any opinions about Apollo, not knowing what it was all about other than what he remembers about it from childhood. But as the book progresses he begins to see some recurrent themes emerging: intense competition among the astronauts, dreams of glory on the Moon, followed by disillusionment and, in some cases, breakdowns. There is a more contemporary theme running through the book: those who believe the Moon landings never happened, and how Apollo is slowly changing from fact to myth. Smith actually tracks down a documentary maker, Bart Sibrel, who claims it was all a hoax - the very same guy who Buzz Aldrin punched in the face when asked to swear on the Bible that he went to the Moon. But the film-maker has nothing more to offer than the usual bad science and twisted logic, which Smith easily demolishes: the best that Sibrel can come up with is "if they really went to the Moon, we would have bases there by now", conveniently ignoring the massive budget cuts to the space programme which were having an effect even before Apollo 11. If that really is the most convincing argument Moon hoaxists can put forward, why does anybody ever pay them any attention? Smith believes that a lot of people are, consciously or otherwise, angry that the Moon landings robbed the Moon of its legends, its mystery, its beauty, and thus seek some sort of revenge on the scientific rationalism which produced Apollo.
Ultimately, Smith may well be right when he said that the Moon landings were pointless: they were not done for science, only to massage cold-war egos. There was no real reason to go. But now America is going back to the Moon, and once again nobody can quite say why. Is it, perhaps, just that the world needs heroes once more?
An excellent, thought-provoking book.
It's surprising that nobody had written such a book before. Some of the lunarnauts have published their own memoirs, but Smith wanted to act as an impartial observer to tell the stories. He had little idea of what he would find, other than what most people believe about the lunarnauts and, indeed, all astronauts: that they are somehow superhuman, a race apart, America's finest.
What he found, of course, was totally different. And what is most surprising, to me, is that the experience of going to the Moon affected the men in so many different ways. Edgar Mitchell set up an organisation called the Institute of Noetic Sciences, which investigates ESP and other paranormal phenomena. Al Bean spends his time painting and selling lunar landscapes, as if trying to recapture that one perfect memory when he stood on the surface of another world. Buzz Aldrin is a space activist, designing future spacecraft and gadgets that even he knows have little chance of ever being built. Charlie Duke and his wife spread the word of the Lord. And then we have the man himself, Neil Armstrong, who withdrew from public life after 1969 and became a very private person, rarely glimpsed in public, shunning his fame and making money through a string of business investments.
This book is also a story about America, Kennedy, NASA, the Soviets and the events which led twelve American heroes to the Moon. There are recurring themes of disappointment, of estrangement, of Machievellian manipulations by NASA and the American establishment. Through the alcoholism and drugs and broken marriages a picture emerges of men who were promised - and given - the Moon but then dumped by their culture, disappearing off the radar as fast as they had streaked across it. Smith comes to the conclusion that we are fascinated with the Twelve because we are fascinated with ourselves, that in them were reflected our own frailties and dreams. Those twelve men played out our dreams, enabling us all to have momentous experiences via proxy. So this book is as much about our culture as it is about the men who went. Apollo was a mirror: it enabled us to look at ourselves, for the first time, from some sort of perspective. After all, the most famous photo from the Apollo programme was not of the Moon, but of the Earth.
Smith starts the book not really having any opinions about Apollo, not knowing what it was all about other than what he remembers about it from childhood. But as the book progresses he begins to see some recurrent themes emerging: intense competition among the astronauts, dreams of glory on the Moon, followed by disillusionment and, in some cases, breakdowns. There is a more contemporary theme running through the book: those who believe the Moon landings never happened, and how Apollo is slowly changing from fact to myth. Smith actually tracks down a documentary maker, Bart Sibrel, who claims it was all a hoax - the very same guy who Buzz Aldrin punched in the face when asked to swear on the Bible that he went to the Moon. But the film-maker has nothing more to offer than the usual bad science and twisted logic, which Smith easily demolishes: the best that Sibrel can come up with is "if they really went to the Moon, we would have bases there by now", conveniently ignoring the massive budget cuts to the space programme which were having an effect even before Apollo 11. If that really is the most convincing argument Moon hoaxists can put forward, why does anybody ever pay them any attention? Smith believes that a lot of people are, consciously or otherwise, angry that the Moon landings robbed the Moon of its legends, its mystery, its beauty, and thus seek some sort of revenge on the scientific rationalism which produced Apollo.
Ultimately, Smith may well be right when he said that the Moon landings were pointless: they were not done for science, only to massage cold-war egos. There was no real reason to go. But now America is going back to the Moon, and once again nobody can quite say why. Is it, perhaps, just that the world needs heroes once more?
An excellent, thought-provoking book.
