It has been called the single most historic event of the 20th century: On July 20, 1969, after a decade of tests and training, supported by a staff of 400,000 engineers and scientists, and with a budget of billions, the most powerful rocket ever launched brought Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins to the moon.
Nobody captured the men, the mood, and the machinery like Norman Mailer, hired by LIFE magazine to cover the mission in a dazzling reportage he later enhanced into the brilliantly crafted book, Of a Fire on the Moon.
Rediscover this epoch-making event with TASCHEN's adaptation of Mailer's account, now in our popular Reader's Edition so you can really curl up and travel not just back in time, but into outer space. The text is accompanied by hundreds of photographs from the NASA vaults, the archives of LIFE, and other leading magazines of the day, documenting the development of the agency and the mission, life inside the command module and on the moon's surface, as well as the world's jubilant reaction to the landing.
Captions by leading Apollo 11 experts explain the history and science behind the images, citing the mission log, publications of the day, and postflight astronaut interviews, while an evocative introduction by Colum McCann celebrates Mailer's incomparable skill at transforming "the science of space...the weight of history...the breadth of mythology" into prose.
Norman Kingsley Mailer was an American novelist, journalist, essayist, poet, playwright, screenwriter, and film director.
Along with Truman Capote, Joan Didion, and Tom Wolfe, Mailer is considered an innovator of creative nonfiction, a genre sometimes called New Journalism, but which covers the essay to the nonfiction novel. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize twice and the National Book Award once. In 1955, Mailer, together with Ed Fancher and Dan Wolf, first published The Village Voice, which began as an arts- and politics-oriented weekly newspaper initially distributed in Greenwich Village. In 2005, he won the Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters from The National Book Foundation.
I read Mailer just once before (Barbary Shore) and wasn’t very impressed, but a lot of people said that was a bad starting point for Mailer, and then I came across this book – his coverage of the Apollo 11 moon landings – and thought I’d give him another try. After 50 pages, I’ve had enough. Mailer’s prose is so flowery and self-absorbed that it detracts away from the actual subject matter. It doesn’t help that he insists on referring to himself in the third person (the better to explore at length the blurred lines between journalists and novelists), which just makes him seem pretentious. I realize Mailer is heralded as one of the pioneers of New Journalism, but to me there’s a difference between being a subjective part of the story and hijacking it altogether – especially when it's a story of this significance. It’s the equivalent of trying to watch an Apollo 11 documentary while Mailer is standing in front of the screen telling you what he thinks about it and going off on rambling tangents. Sorry, but it’s not for me.
I've had no involvement with Norman Mailer though I'm aware of his name. I got this on a whim as the blurb made it seem exactly the kind of book I'd like. I sometimes wonder if my generation will ever have anything to equal the universal heights of the Moon landings. 9/11 probably comes closest yet that was a negative event (and I actually missed it as it happened - I was flying to Italy and didn't find out until the next day and didn't get to watch the coverage for another few days). Anyway.
I very nearly gave up on this and the fact it's taken almost a month to read gives an indication of how I struggled.
Part One (Aquarius) is a long rambling and dense section of quasi-philosophical tangents, conjecture on god and the devil, his personal failings as a politician/husband/reporter, anecdotes about dinners and drinking and you name it. Is there actually anything about the moon landings? Only obtusely. A bit too beat for my liking.
I read onto Part Two (Apollo) and was on the verge of giving up when half way through the initially ridiculous Psychology of Machines opening chapter he completely reverts his style, narrows in his focus and for the rest of the book (bar the last few short chapters) provides a fascinating in-depth and technical portrayal of the events. It's jarring and feels like 2 separate books but I actually enjoyed it far more.
I think ultimately it comes down to a style issue. As stated, I have no personal opinion on Mailer. I understand The Fight is a much tighter and ?better read though after this I'm not sure I could face trying it. Maybe someone out there can let me know whether it's worth it?
The intro by Geoff Dyer goes so far to say that this isn't the book to turn to first off if you want to get a sense of the occasion. Perhaps I should have read the intro first.
On topic, off topic, Mailer is a literary live wire. This is much more than sheer reportage, it's rumination, philosophy, history, egomania, and stylistic pyrotechnics. Sometimes, Mailer goes so far afield that you wonder if he will ever return to the topic. But even in these digressions, he's brilliant, provocative, and sometimes even wise. It's a roller coaster ride.
Do not come to this book simply for history. Come to it to be involved in the mind of Mailer as much as the Apollo project.
A mammoth task described in a mammoth tome written by a mammoth ego. Part One is a personal account of Norman Mailer's time at Cape Kennedy during the launch of Apollo 11, written as it happened: history seen from the vantage point of press enclosures, pool parties and hotel rooms. Part Two goes back to the beginning again for an exhaustive, 272 page long, almost moment-by-moment summary of the mission itself: a mixture of reportage, engineering and philosophy. Then in Part Three, the author again becomes the centre of attention, ruminating on death and divorce.
Mailer's brief was to act not only as a journalist, but to conjure up some ideas on what the whole endeavour might mean. And so the book becomes a discussion of what he sees as "the chasm between technology and metaphysics, the psychology of machines and the dreams of men". In opposition to his undoubted awe in the presence of the great "braincase on top of a firecracker", he claims he cannot pass through a room containing a bank of computers without feeling that he has "just walked through an amphitheatre where some species of higher tapeworm was quietly ingesting the vitals of God." When data from an apparently malfunctioning Lem reaches mission control and is described by the engineers as 'beautiful', he bristles. "An engineer's idea of beauty was system perfection. Beauty was obviously the absence of magic."
The extent to which this is a piece of New Journalism (and an act of colossal immodesty) is immediately apparent when Mailer refers to himself in the third person, giving himself the name 'Aquarius'. The author is an overbearing, self-absorbed companion and someone with whom I would not like to share a drink. But his skills as a writer of prose are undeniable. His description of the landing itself is genuinely thrilling.
Yes, it's flawed. Yes, it's often frustrating. But it's ballsy enough to stand up to what might eventually prove to be one of the most significant events in human history.
Mailer's account of Apollo 11 begins with the death of Ernest Hemingway. It ends with his unsettling realization that he is about to divorce his wife. In between is an ambitious, scary, daring, edge-of-bombastic, utterly unexpected and urgent blast of prose that taught me more about the moon launch and that year and those times than any book I've read before. Mailer is always trying to get past the obvious thought. His power to observe and his ability to see significance in the smallest gesture or fact or event makes this an extraordinary book. I'm really upended by it. Some of the sentences were perfect. Others left me thinking, ok, this guy tried to wrench something amazing from this string of words and didn't make it...but even so I was stunned and grateful to know that he had tried at all, instead of staying in the safe borders of the expected. I don't understand why this book is a somewhat neglected work of a somewhat neglected writer. I can't recommend it enough, for anyone interested in understanding this decade of American history.
Some thoughts upon rereading Norman Mailer’s, Of a Fire on the Moon.
I graduated high school in June of 1969. I barely remember my graduation day, but I will never forget the evening of July 20, 1969, watching TV at a friend’s house on a hot and sticky night in Northern New Jersey when, at 10:18 pm, six hours after touching down on the surface, Neil Armstrong stepped out of the lunar module, Eagle, and set foot on the moon. This was the culmination of a goal set by US president John F. Kennedy in 1961 when he challenged the people of the United States to rally in support of the vision to put a man on the moon before the end of the decade. Kennedy’s challenge came just days after Alan Shepard’s sub-orbital Mercury flight and the United States’ late entry into the Space Race. The Soviet Union had shocked America awake with the launch of Sputnik, the first satellite, in 1957, followed by Yuri Gagarin’s historic April 1961 flight as he became the first man to orbit the earth. The catalyst of the challenge was fear of the Soviet Union and it was as politically driven program as any, but from the beginning, JFK packaged it in a vision so compelling that, at least for me and most of my friends, it defined who we were as Americans during that decade.
As a boy I lived through the seasons in the bucolic Finger Lakes of New York. We were isolated from the turmoil and change taking place in the urban areas of the country, but the regular space launches were certainly part of our cycle. Mercury, Gemini and then Apollo: it seemed we were always celebrating a victory or preparing for the next one. Astronauts were celebrities and heroes. Even disaster could not derail the program. The tragic fire on the launch pad of Apollo 1 that took the lives of Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee seemed to motivate the country even more. Less than two years after the accident, the first manned mission, Apollo 8, was a success. Nothing could stop us. We achieved our goal with the Apollo 11 mission with time to spare on that steamy July night in 1969. Neil Armstrong, and just behind him, Buzz Aldrin, set foot on the moon while Michael Collins orbited the moon in the Command Module, waiting to take the team back to Earth. Between that night and the last Apollo mission in 1972, we placed 12 men on the moon and brought them all back safely. It has been more than 40 years since Gene Cernan became the last man to walk on the moon. Our priorities shifted and we have never been out of a low Earth orbit since. This book gave me a chance to relive those magic years and to think a bit about the significance these many years later.
Of a Fire on the Moon is a description of the Apollo 11 mission and is Mailer at his journalistic best. It was during this time that Mailer was having success with books that were accounts of current events, often inserting his own character into the narrative. Books such as Armies of the Night, Miami and the Siege of Chicago and others are a kind of historical fiction, with the extremely sharp observations of the writer filtered through his own perspective of the action and even taking part in the action, attempting to steer the outcome. In Of a Fire on the Moon, Mailer is present as character Aquarius, but Aquarius takes a back seat for most of the novel. The book is mostly a remarkable description of this historical event, with analysis of every detail possible from the political environment down to the engineering specifications for the nuts and bolts of the rockets. Mailer’s prose is often lyrical as he evokes the larger images, such as the launch of the giant Saturn rockets or the significance of the back side of the Moon. Parts of this book have always reminded me of Melville: Mailer himself compares the rising Saturn rocket to Melville’s Leviathan (white as the white of Melville’s Moby Dick…slow as Melville’s Leviathan might swim). It is a beautiful and informative account of one of the milestone events of our generation.
Aquarius is forced to step into the background for most of the book, since the sheer magnitude of the topic, the adventure into the unknown depths of space, dwarfs any attempt to impose his personality. He does allow Aquarius to pontificate at the beginning of the novel and again at the conclusion. These parts are vintage Mailer and add a sharp perspective to the narrative. His common themes of good versus evil, God versus the Devil, conservative versus Wasp all play out against the canvas of the launch. I found his conclusions chilling, especially considering the 45 years that have elapsed since the publication of the book. Mailer is as excited by the launch as most Americans and he tries very hard to find all the positive aspects. As he understands more about the program a sense of dark foreboding begins to appear. For Mailer, the moon has always been a powerful symbol of the mystical, the pagan and the unknown. Now that we were about to go there, to walk on the surface, doubts about the intent begin to surface. Mailer the hipster, the modern day rebel, is watching a performance choreographed by the conservative elements that he hates. He wants adventure, in the old Hemingway style, but what he finds is nothing but an endless rank of colorless technicians. He wants heroes like Huck Finn or Jake Barnes or even Ahab but the astronauts who are in the best position to be the heroes are a bland group from small town America, Boy Scouts, impersonal, efficient and sanitized to the point of preventing an emotional connection. He admires these men and their actions, but he is repelled by their life and their values, afraid of whom or what will take control of the moon and our future. He even considers that the draw of the Moon may be an evil attraction and one we are not meant to make. He sees a future controlled by banal corporations, military-industrial complex behemoths with technology and efficiency supreme but void of soul, the ultimate evil unleashed on the universe. As he is wrapping up the book, even the political landscape in the United States is changing. Vietnam is ramping up, Nixon is in charge, and the revolution has run off the tracks. Teddy Kennedy has killed a girl in a car accident at Chappaquiddick and walked away in a drunken stupor, staining the name of Camelot and the sanctity of the original vision. A battle between God and the Devil was raging, and it seemed that the Devil was winning.
Almost five decades later, we have made huge leaps in technology that have allowed us to understand some of the mysteries of space. The United States built and flew the Space Shuttles on 135 missions over 30 years from 1981-2011, including two accidents that destroyed the orbiters Columbia and Challenger along with 14 lives. This program was instrumental in advancing our knowledge and technology. Without it we could not have built the space station, launched the Hubble telescope or kicked off missions such as Magellan and Galileo. Despite the success, the human scope of the shuttle program never left low Earth orbit. Humans piloted the ships, but they became little more than logistical transportation to the Space Station, a highly evolved semi-trailer. Since this program was terminated, we (the United States) must beg rides on Chinese and Russian rockets to get to the space station. We are sending drones to far corners of our galaxy, and each mission adds huge reservoirs of knowledge. They are all triumphs of technology, but lack the personal involvement, the human participation that we crave in our adventures. I think this is one reason why recent movies like Interstellar are popular: such fantasies always have a live human hero at the stick.
Even more than the technology, Mailer feared the technocrats in charge. Today we see a fundamental conservative right that would have scared Mailer to death. We have allowed the growth of the huge military-industrial complex and now watch as we funnel most of our national resources into this “defense” spending, sending equipment, troops and rains of fire over every Middle Eastern Muslim tribe that goads our anger. After this excess, we have precious little resources left to fund even the most antiseptic of space exploration. The right is also caught up in fundamental religious issues. Mailer loved the existential debate about good versus evil but would have skewered the modern religious fervor that has no thought or substance, but relies on blinders and provincial tribalism. Our liberal Democratic Party, the place where Mailer felt most at home, would probably not please him either. They are trying to stay focused on the traditional social values but are also drawn into the vacuum created in the traditional conservative platform as the conservatives move to the extreme ends of their doctrine. Because of this, the Democrats continue to support the wars and defense spending while pushing health, social security and better schooling. Nowhere in their vision is a human adventure that would excite the spirit of Norman Mailer.
I am happy to have reread this book. It allowed a dreamy remembrance of the good old days as it also served as a reminder that as a nation we are dangerously out of balance. We are in desperate need of a leadership who will focus on identifying a common rally point, a national vision, one in which we may all be proud. Another audacious space challenge would qualify in my opinion, but it must certainly provide for the possibility of human heroes if it is to be successful.
As a footnote, I purchased a limited edition of Moonfire from Taschen Books. This was released on the 40th anniversary of the moon landing. It is a compilation of wonderful photos of the Apollo 11 mission from NASA, Life, and other magazines with the haunting prose of Of a Fire on the Moon reprinted in full. Find a way to check out a copy of this amazing book.
Like wading through sticky mud.Overegged in nearly every paragraph.Rarely engaged me even though the subject matter is one of my interests. The book only comes to life in the description of the pre launch excitement of the thousands who lined the roads of Florida and the portraits of the astronauts.The scientific minutiae of the rocket side of things is way too boring, and some paragraphs just go on and on.Journalistic novelese which doesn't work on either level.Of its time but no penguin classic imo.Couldn't wait to finish it Sorry Mailer fans, can't see it.
Never have I ever sighed with relief that the book is finally over before this. Partly it might be due to the clunky translation, but mostly it is the vapid pseudophilosophical musings of the author. It is evident that he was not enjoying himself writing this. He was out of his element, writing about technology. Clearly he was self-aware enough, so he decided to go meta, and make the book just about that - the alienness of NASA and spaceflight. However, even in this pose, the text just appears obnoxious, as if written by a stoned 15 year old. Awful. Do not read this if you value your time and energy. I only went through with it because I am prone to self-loathing and morbid curiosity.
Vizuelni deo knjige (fotografije, opisi fotografija i dodaci): 5/5 - Taschenovo luksuzno izdanje je u mnogim trenucima bilo isključivi vodič i razlog zbog kojeg sam želeo da završim ovu knjigu do kraja.
Sama knjiga (Milerov stil i tematika kojom se bavi): 2/5 - “MoonFire” je najbolji pokazatelj pisca čiji ego prevazilazi svaku granicu i postaje do te mere neukusan da sam se u trenucima pitao da li Mailer smatra da je njegov “poduhvat” u vidu pisanja ove knjige, po njegovom mišljenju, veći od poduhvata u vidu odlaska na Mesec. Zaslepljen svojom veličinom, Mailer u trenucima luta u potrazi za tematikom o kojoj bi želeo da govori, pišući o sebi u trećem licu sa sve novim imenom u vidu njegovog alter ega, ali se prečesto gubi u temama koje nisu bitne za radnju ove nefikcije i koje čitaocima nimalo ne približavaju grandioznost ovog revolucionarnog događaja koji je promenio tok istorije i ostavio nepromenjiv trag na čovečanstvo. Tužno je videti kako oči sa Zemlje smatraju da su bitnije od očiju koje su tu istu Zemlju posmatrale sa Meseca.
A totally unncessary work by Mailer and the last one by him that I have read. "Of a Fire on the Moon" is book by a flamboyant author about NASA. Unfortunately the text is turgid and bombastic rather than flamboyant. Read Tom Wolfe's "Right Stuff" instead.
Hundreds of informative, beautiful, and awe-inspiring photographs from the NASA Apollo program (bringing back many fond memories) paired with the effusive, overworked and at times pungent writing of Norman Mailer. I give the photos five stars, but Mailer only one or, perhaps, two. Unlike a fine wine, his style of writing with nearly unhinged drama and emotion, at least in this case, did not age well.
Only an egotist like Norman Mailer could write (in real time reportage) about the first men to walk on the moon—the pre-eminent historical event of his time—and end up talking mostly about himself (and in the third person, using a pseudonym)! He spews his guts and manliness all over the pages as he insults not only small town America (Armstrong’s talk is “too dull”, he has “a small town smile”), Wasps, mechanics, Southerners, Blacks and his own family and friends. He tells us about his breakfasts, his sleep patterns, his drinking or lack thereof. He expresses his boredom for the moonwalk, channeling, I imagine, the cultural ennui of the postwar boomers (Woodstock isn’t until next month). We get to hear about his terrible wife (look in the mirror, Norm), his awful drunken friend making a scene at a restaurant, and how dumb Black people are.
His sad, jaded, and sometimes hateful, thoughts break apart what could have been an inspiring report.
There are a few moments of quiet reflection, which almost amount to a realization of something larger than himself, that rise above his kvetching, as when he quotes Werner von Braun in his pre-launch speech , or makes an observation about all the engineers at the launch site , or quotes Neil Armstrong, somewhat more fairly this time, as Neil confirms the moon landing
But instead of finding encouragement or hope from Apollo, Mailer finds only emptiness and loss of direction. He moans about all the bad things that have happened over the decade, complains about designed obsolescence, kvetches about how self-interested and insular Americans are, about how all of this technology is just going to make us even more spoiled and empty. And, given what transpired in America over the next 40 years, perhaps he was right, in way, but that does not make all his ranting (his word) any more palatable.
Frankly, however, I could not care less about the writing.
Because the photos, merely the photos, those beautiful, wonderful photos, delivered to me and my young sons all the excitement, all the achievement and all the wonder of the entire man-walks-on-the-moon saga that one could hope to communicate to the next generation. One of them asked me whether any of the original astronauts (Collins, Armstrong and Aldrin) were still alive, because he wanted to talk to them!
Sometimes it is okay to be enthusiastic. Sometimes it is okay to hope. I am sure my children will (or at least I hope they will) be looking at this book for years to come. Just don’t scroll down to the comments, kids!
(Also, be warned, some of Mailer’s topics, as you would expect, are not for adolescents).
Wow, this is an awful book. Norman Mailer's head is stuck so far up his own arse that the only way he could have watched the launch of Apollo 11 must have been through his own open mouth. If you're interested in what he has to say about Apollo 11, I recommend starting at page 160. He does very occasionally mention things to do with it prior to that, but only as a sort of blurry watercolour background to his own turgid philosophical musings.
I confess it: I gave up on Of A Fire On The Moon at page 200, halfway through. Even the part (p160 on) that is about what the book is supposed to be about, is all presented through the thick, thick 'Norman Mailer Is A Better Human Being Than All The Other Human Beings' lens. For example, he spends over a page philosophising heavily about gravity - and not even accurately. And yes, I know many people dislike DNF reviews but I wasted three days on this piece of literary masturbation and simply couldn't face another three days of it.
An absolutely wonderful book. But, let me be more specific.
First, the actual text of the book is three stars at best. Norman Mailer does little to hide his jealousy of the astronauts, and repeatedly degrades NASA and its agents for their logical attitude and technical communication style. As if, for some reason, the absence of communicated emotion was proof that Norman Mailer (or some other artist) should have been included on the flight manifest. This strange tone polluted an otherwise informative snapshot of what it was like to live in July of 1969.
Second, this edition has something like 300 stunning images from NASA and other sources. The pages are nice and glossy, and the images are in full Technicolor. The photos, images descriptions and other annotations make this a five star book despite Mr. Mailer's somewhat pouty text.
Overall this should be in every space/science/space program enthusiasts library.
I'm sorry, Norman. There were some genuinely incredible passages here, that kind of impassioned logorrhea that I associate with guys like Philip Roth or John Updike when they wax grandiose about American life. But I got lost about 170 pages in with all the pseudo-philosophy about the distinctions between "the Novelist and the Navigator." I couldn't make heads or tails of it, nor could I see why I belonged in a book about the Apollo 11 mission.
Invoking the 80 page rule. Mailer writes himself into this one, referring to himself as "Aquarius" the whole time. He spends the first 60 pages over-explaining press conferences and philosophizing on the manhood of astronauts. I did not want to find out what else he had in store.
If you are interested in a book about the moon adventure check out this one. Way more reader friendly.
Like many other reviewers here, I'd never read Mailer before, though knew of his reputation. I picked this up on whim thinking it looked like the most interesting thing in a public library that felt full of pulp.
Unfortunately, in all honesty it was a struggle. As others have commented, it is dense while Mailer is off on his own philosophical paths. But I admired the commitment to the task and the immense detail that the book contains.
utterly brilliant, though utterly unreadable at times. some of the most interesting writing about the apollo program for sure, and better than tom wolfe's the right stuff. i could have done with less of norman's grandstanding, though.
A leading literary figure of the 1960s writing an account of the successful Apollo 11 manned moon landing was always going to produce a quite different type of record to one written by a journalist. And that certainly was the case with Norman Mailer’s Of a Fire on the Moon (the title refers to the question: how can the escape engine produce fire in the absence of oxygen?). But I think it was a triumph. The first triumph being that Mailer managed to get the first third of his 125,000 word account ready in time to be published the August edition of Life Magazine only five weeks after the astronauts had splashed down.
It seemed clear to me that the quite technical descriptions of the mission offered by Mailer are all the better for him having studied aeronautical engineering at Harvard. That must have been a bit of a surprise for those who knew Mailer only for his writings.
Though Mailer can often be long winded, this book at less than 450 pages seems about right. I was left wanting more. Eg about what happened to the astronauts when they came home, and about the missions that followed.
I lived through this first manned moon landing - including celebrating my seventh birthday during the mission - and followed events every day on TV. It had a big impact on me and everyone at school seemed similarly inclined. For our generation it was a huge deal, but I wonder if Of a Fire on the Moon is a book of its time? There are so many references to recent and current events in its pages. Inevitably many of those references must be less meaningful to people born later. Regardless, if’s such an incredible book about such an incredible achievement I think anyone could and should give it a go.
Една от най-прекрасните книги в моята библиотека, “Moonfire” на Норман Мейлър (“Голите и мъртвите”, “Замък в гората”), е епично по размаха си проследяване на едно от най-величавите събития в човешката история – кацането на Луната през 1969 г. В огромния албум, запазена марка за изд. “Taschen”, намират място стотици фотографии, които засвидетелстват пътя от думите на Кенеди, с които започва книгата, до завръщането на героите и тяхното приводняване. Това кацане трябваше да бъде малка стъпка за човека, голяма за човечеството, но в крайна сметка огънят изтля в глобалното противопоставяне на Студената война и космическото овладяване все остава на заден план. Да видим къде ще ни отведе новото поколение космически предприемачи (“Голямата битка за Космоса” на Крисчън Девънпор), може пък те да са отговорът.
Well, it's taken me literally all year to read this book, but it's definitely been worth it. What's really interesting with this book is that it is basically two different ideas mashed together; one, a gorgeous pictorial look at the journey of APOLLO 11 and all the amazing, brilliant technology that helped humanity reach the moon; and the second, a selection of text from Norman Mailer's OF A FIRE ON THE MOON, which is a reflective, searing, psychological study of why we went there and what it meant (for America in particular). These ideas don't really compliment each other as much as they compete with one another, but there's lots of interesting contrasts to be found by packaging them together. Mailer's text really drives home how the racial tensions, soul-searching and self-discovery of the 1970s were right around the corner, and it's incongrous to my mental picture of the space program to see pictures of the astronauts in Vietnam at the end of the book, greeting hundreds of American troops. The overwhelming whiteness of the people at NASA in the photographs is also shocking to see, as are the photographs of Wernher von Braun and other Operation Paperclip scientists grinning like cats who ate the canary. At the same time, you can't help but be awed by the size of the accomplishment, the sheer scope of the idea. Mailer really struggles with this, and while I'll freely admit to reading some of the more hypnotic and/or sexist sections of his writing with glazed eyes (the constant references to himself as "Aquarius" feel like an unsuccessful, incredibly dated experiment), there are frequent insights that are just so spot-on that you have to hand it to him: Mailer is undoubtedly one of the most insightful writers of the 20th century. I particularly liked this bit:
All signs to the Vehicle Assembly Building said VAB. VAB - it could be the name of a drink or a deodorant, or it could be suds for the washer. But it was not a name for this warehouse of the gods. The great churches of a religious age had names: the Alhambra, Santa Sophia, Mont-Saint-Michel, Chartres, Westminster Abbey, Notre Dame. Now: VAB.
Altogether, a fascinating read. This will live on my coffee table for many years to come.
I love reading about the Apollo missions. I bought this book on a whim because of the beautiful photos (which are the best part of the book). I didn't read closely to see what this book was actually about--I assumed it was a more biographical account (my bad!)
That being said, I stuck with it for a few chapters, hoping I'd like it. Long story short, I stopped it and didn't pick it back up. I couldn't get into Mailer's writing style, and I don't like not finishing books.
I might keep this book for the photographs and the factoids, but I don't suggest it if you want a more historical account.
Libro sobre la misión Apollo 11 que nos llevó a la luna con un enfoque menos técnico del esperado y que incide más en el impacto sobre el país y los integrantes de la misión.
La edición es maravillosa e incluye muchas fotos muy interesantes en un tamaño de libro muy grande.
Colocar Norman Mailer a reportar a missão da Apollo 11 é tentar cruzar dois mundos - o libertário cultural, e o rígido científico-militar. Poderia ser o melhor de dois mundos, mas a visão de Mailer é demasiado solipsista, demasiado chocada com a súbita importância histórica e cultural que os técnicos, cientistas e militares asseguraram, roubando espaço às manifestações culturais avant-garde. Ao longo de Moonfire, Mailer até vai falando da missão, que acompanhou, mas o seu ponto de vista é distante e os acontecimentos são vistos quase como pano de fundo para os dilemas pessoais do autor. Talvez o texto tenha feito sentido na época, mas décadas depois, o que é que importam os devaneios pessoais de um autor face ao espanto da primeira missão lunar? O livro vale essencialmente pelo acervo fotográfico que o acompanha.
This is a great coffee table photobook that any space buff/fan will enjoy. Although I've seen hundreds of NASA and media photos in the last decades about the Apollo program and the Apollo 11 mission, this volume manages to come up with sufficient original and interesting photos that I've never seen before. The captions and supporting text spread in most pages make the book sufficiently interesting, especially for readers not interested in Norman Mailer's... "unconvencional" prose.
I confess that I didn't buy this book looking to read all 616 pages, but merely to explore it as a worthy photobook about a remarkable human effort. In that sense, this is a great photobook, and you happen to get it at a discount price, it's well worth its weight.
The theme of the book is basically "I feel like less of a man because they went into space and I didn't, and besides, what's so great about space travel anyway when there are starving children in Africa?" which is a fair question and certainly worthy of discussion, but completely obscured by all the meandering and the fragile ego and the run-on sentences that last for more than a page, so pernicious that every time I got caught up in the reading, every time I started to think "Hmm, maybe I'm starting to get it - yes, yes, this isn't so bad," every single time there inevitably followed another pointless non sequitur, another indigestible run-on, another tale of Apollo 11's real protagonist "Aquarius," and let us not forget the sloppy physics!
Ļoti labas un citās grāmatās par Apollo programmu neredzētas fotogrāfijas. Taču teksti, kam būtu jāsatur galvenā grāmatas pievilcība, mani nesajūsmināja. Nenormāli daudz atsauču uz ASV 50. un 60. gadu kultūrtelpu, gari dialogi ar autora iekšējo pasauli un bezgalīgi pārspriedumi, kam nav nekāda sakara ar grāmatas tēmu. Normana Mailera faniem noteikti patīk, bet jābūt dzīvojušam ASV 60.gados, lai šo grāmatu varētu izbaudīt.
I’m really glad I picked up this book. It took me a while to get through it, but Mailer is a wonderful poetic guide through the feelings of the age of technology the space race and moon landing were harbingers of. His thoughts in 1969 speak potently to our world today.