Colonel Richard Martin had been to the Moon and back, but he would never be sent on a mission again. Martin had suffered a nervous breakdown while he orbited the Moon, and he couldn't be trusted to pilot an expensive space capsule anymore. So now Martin handled public relations for the space program, and after one more Moon launch his connection with the program would be completely ended. But no one could foresee the strange disaster that would turn the coming space mission into a nightmare that only Martin, if anyone, could end...
The Falling Astronauts is one of my favorite Malzberg novels, perhaps partly because I believe it was the first one I read. He took a cynical and paranoid character study and applied it to a very near future science fiction setting. (The book appeared in 1971, when the Apollo missions were very much in the daily news; perhaps it no longer even qualifies as science fiction, but that's a thought for a different theme.) His prose is very carefully crafted in an introverted and claustrophobic manner, and the bleakness of space combined with the insecurities of the unreliable narrator were an amazing counterpoint to the patriotic, joyful celebrations we saw on the television news. There are some very funny dark bits, and the conclusion is that not only are all the characters quite mad, but so are we all.
I am not sure whether The Falling Astronauts would even qualify as Science Fiction, seeing how the only thing that differentiates the world the novel describes from ours is that the space program is a bit more advanced. The novel’s sensibilities do not appear very SFnal either – Science Fiction usually is not as bleak and darkly cynical as this (it rarely ever is today and certainly wasn’t back in 1971 when this novel was first released), it’s supposed to show us a bright future, or at least warn us off dangerous developments, so that we can we avoid them and build a better future instead, not to impress on us the vast indifference of the universe towards everything human.
The Falling Astronauts is a novel with an unlikeable protagonist who does unlikeable (or at best, unremarkable) things interacting with other unlikeable characters - it is quite funny in parts, but even so it is not an enjoyable read by any stretch of the imagination. Which, in this case, is actually a good thing, because there is a method to this: You might not like Malzberg’s bleak outlook on life, the universe, and all the rest, but Malzberg could not care less about that, his novel is just as indifferent towards the reader as space out there is to the paltry attempts of humans to “conquer” it. Precisely this indifference, though, will hardly let anyone unaffected, forces the reader to engage with the novel somehow, even if it just by throwing it at the wall in disgust. Or maybe by discovering that The Falling Astronauts cuts closer to home than might be apparent on first sight…
What Richard Martin, the novel’s protagonist, is most afraid of is to become a machine, just a cog in some huge apparatus, reduced to mere functionality, stripped of his humanity, because this is was the “agency” (as the obviously NASA-inspired space organization is called here) does to its astronauts to make them fit for space, able to bear it indifference. But, unspoken but looming in the background of that fear, is the suspicion that the world and society he and everyone else are living in on Earth has become just as alien and inimical to humanity, just as cold and empty as space. Viewed in this harsh light, he and everyone else already have become the automatons he was afraid of turning into, and all that his trip into space did to him was to strip him of all pretenses, make him see the bare, bleak truth about the world he lives in.
"A quarter of a million miles of technology to find the same blankness, the same pain." Ultra-trained astronauts to the point of human/robotization. First astronaut gets his failing marriage/sex-life mixed up with his mission. Second astronaut goes completely bonkers later with absolutely catastrophic results for Earth. Mission control forgot to account for several human factors in the training of their men. This was my current book to help time pass while taking a dump at work (and keep my mind off the task at hand.)
I was not as impressed with this book as most of the readers seem to be. The whole time I was reading it I was trying to decide if all the people in the book were insane or if it was just the author.
The book kept going off on crazy tangents.. There was no flow to it.. I never did figure out the point to the story. And it didn't have an ending. Or maybe it did... I'm not really sure.
I'm just glad it was a quick read so I only wasted one day of my life!
A little Franz Kafka, a little Joseph Heller and just pure Barry Malzberg genius.
That this was written in 1971 is amazing. To have read it then as moon shots were becoming “boring”. Psychedelic! Malzberg’s writing about how people don’t really believe what they see on TV but want to know how the “story” ends, was great commentary of the day and scarily prescient of 21st century TV programming. Written in 1971, spot on for 2020.
"It’s space-sickness he would tell them if anyone noticed what was happening, just a little bit of the old spaceman’s burden, carried back from the Moon. We old space-loggers, we learn to put up with a little bit of taint. It’s the price of the stars, isn’t it?"
Feels odd calling this sci fi since it's basically a character study set in some not too distant future where being an astronaut is a horrible pain in the ass but it is what it is.
Barry N. Malzberg is the great lost genius of late-20th century SF, a prolific, brilliant writer whose work was always about more than its ostensible themes of space exploration, technology, contact with alien culture, and so forth. Like the great English SF writer JG Ballard, the American author was fascinated by the effect of humanity's scientific progress and reaching out into the rest of the universe on the psychology of our species, on our sense of self and of community, on our intimate physical relationship with the hardware in which we encase ourselves, and how the institutions we accept as necessary to administer these new experiences change us as social animals.
Malzberg is an incredibly prolific writer, often turning out three novels per year, few longer than about 200 pages. The result of this approach is to make them terse, focused, and always highly relevant to the actual events and environments which gave rise to them.
"The Falling Astronauts", published in 1971, came at precisely the moment at which the global audience for the televising of the Apollo moon missions was waning, even the most monumental long-distance exploration ever undertaken by human beings having become a media cliche and failing to inspire continued public interest. Told from the point of view of a former astronaut turned NASA press officer, this darkly comic tale recounts the frustrations of the space explorers themselves, the cynicism of the press, and the potential for psychic and emotional disaster engendered by placing individuals in space capsules and sending them a quarter-million miles to an alien world, to what end no one really knows any more. Like most of Malzberg's work, it is a little gem of a novel, one whose importance vastly transcends its brevity, and which really ought to be better known and more widely read.
"The Falling Astronauts (1971) (from now on FA) is the first in Barry N. Malzberg’s thematic trilogy on the American space program. Although not as engaging or experimental as the other two masterpieces in the sequence — Beyond Apollo (1972) and Revelations (1972), FA is highly readable and a notable work in Malzberg’s extensive corpus. FA attempts to debunk the so-called cult (in part propagated by the media) of the astronaut (and his ideal family) and in so doing questions [...]"
Odd concept about the mental breakdown of one of the astronauts in the Apollo space program, the astronaut that stays in the orbiter while the other two land on the surface of the Moon. Then there was a cross story which was an allegory of NASA, their image, and their relationship with the media. Almost too cerebral to be great. Just average.
My second Malzberg, very enjoyable, feel like he's tackling so many things at once, dehumanisation in media and national myth-making, the incomprehensible nature is space, something this book made me glad I'll never experience and maybe just a bit of psychosis... Idk definitely wet my appetite for more.
It's interesting to me that in 1971, Malzberg had already tapped into the neglect and disinterest that would eventually leave the US space program as a hollow shell of its former self.
Falling Astronauts is an excellent book, which for me serves as not just a critique of the science fiction genre, but also a critique of the Western belief in the limitless progress and value of technology as well. The book chronicles the eventual mental breakdowns of the astronauts under the psychological demands of the space program. This book is on par with Screen and Oracle of a Thousand Hands; a true Work and not just an attempt at a work, or light humor, that much of his other early writing was conceived as. I find Malzberg's writing about the space program extremely interesting in light of the popularity of the film Gravity. They both center on the loneliness of space; the inherent futility of man's will to explore everywhere except inside our own heads. Of course the film Gravity is a simple action film dressed up with transparent and politically correct tropes about women's equality, the value of life, and the beauty of nature. Malzberg's vision, as literature generally is when compared to film, is deeper, darker and more true to life than Gravity could ever be. If Malzberg directed the film, the launch either never would have happened due to technical difficulties, or Clooney would have saved himself by jettisoning Bullock, or everyone would have floated off into the black, alone with their thoughts. There would not have been thirty to forty hair raising coincidences and multiple outrunning of flaming explosions en route to a corny denoument. Of course, Malzberg is unknown and penniless (at least penniless as a correlative to his talent, which is extreme), and Gravity probably won all kinds of Oscar awards and made the sound boy more money than Malzberg will ever see from all of his novels put together. Oh America. On the negative side of the book, I feel that Malzberg was still working out of his background in drama; the entire book is pretty much theatrical monologues which make for fast reading, funny moments, and profound thoughts - but lacks some of the traditional narrative pleasures one might find in intricate plotting, deep character studies, or geographical depictions. For me the best novels give me both narrative and intellectual/metaphorical pleasures; this book is intellectual and talky. My five star books are Hyperion, The Dispossessed, and Crash, each of which have a pretty nice recipe of everything literature can offer. I would highly recommend this book; although marketed as science fiction it's really literary fiction foregrounded in the space program; there is no wacky invention or anything that wasn't already operation in 1971 when this was written.
This early Malzberg (1971) was my first foray into his writings. Overall, I think it is a straight-forward read; intense government-maintained space organizations devalue, dehumanize, and mechanize space exploration/missions. Little regard is held for the "human" side of astronauts. Malzberg clearly criticizes the space "Administration." However, subtly, the novel also suggests that this is a reflection of the overall society in the novel as well. The characters are all unlikeable, so it was hard to care (in a human emotional way) about the dehumanizing of these very characters. My biggest complaint is that though Malzberg's writing qua writing is charming and unique, there are scenes that seem interminable and go on and on. Good for anyone really interested in 1970s science fiction or criticisms of NASA.