The Novels of Andy Weir
October 2022
Back in 2014 I read The Martian. Like all right-thinking individuals, I loved the novel. The story is compelling, the writing humorous, and the science plausible. I also appreciated the optimistic take on the future of humanity and technology.
When his next novel Artemis was released, I quickly read that too. I wanted to enjoy the book. Much of the time I kept trying to convince myself that I was enjoying myself more than I was. The world building and science is somewhat interesting, but the characters and convoluted plot kept getting in the way. Instead of a single character, we have a full cast, but they all seem like variants of Mark Watney.
The hero here is a smuggler with a heart of gold—though she is also a promiscuous, non-practicing muslim, genius with the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy that refuses to put effort into anything. Transplanting the personality of the protagonist from The Martian across gender, religion, and culture did not work. It led to many scenes that ranged from uncomfortable to offensive.
After Artemis I decided not to read any more Weir. But then Project Hail Mary was released and the word of mouth was great. We were back in space with Mark Watney 2.0 and I caved. I loved the premise of the novel—strange organism potentially causing an extinction level event on Earth. We go to space to try and discover the cause and solution and run into an alien species attempting the same thing.
Unfortunately, a novel is more than just a premise. The writing is juvenile, and I don’t just mean the humor. Sentence structure is repetitive and simplistic. Very easy book to skim through without missing anything; it is all plot, no narrative. All of the characters are one-dimensional stereotypes. That Russian cosmonaut sure loves her vodka; no other aspect of her personality is conveyed. This just highlights again that the author can only write a single type of character. Just like in his previous book, all other characters are either flat or mildly offensive.
Sure, there are scientific inaccuracies in the book and wildly unrealistic aspects, but first contact with an alien species is the most annoying. The main character becomes fluent in an alien language in a matter of days. They have no problem communicating complicated concepts. Any word in English just happens to have a corresponding word in the alien language. We have sarcasm, so do they. Sarcasm is universal, right? The main character’s communication with some of the human characters (e.g. DuBois) feels more alien than with the alien. Much of the novel feels like it is mimicking work that did it better. The Martian obviously, but also stories like Arrival and books from the Bobiverse.
My real problem with the novels is the feeling I have after finishing them. It is the same feeling I have when I realize I spent the past 20 minutes scrolling through the newsfeed on my phone. It is a mindless distraction that will be forgotten in the next moment. There is no challenge and there is no purpose.
Despite all of this, I am not saying the novels are bad. Mr. Weir just did not write the novels for me. It is a little arrogant to not enjoy something and then jump to the conclusion there is something fundamentally wrong with it, especially when it has glowing reviews from thousands of people. Maybe the problem is with me.