To the moon
In 2014, Bay Area software engineer Andy Weir hit the first-novelist jackpot with “The Martian,” a genial sci-fi update of “Robinson Crusoe” set on the Red Planet. First self-published online and benefiting from a cadre of science-minded beta readers, the novel was picked up by a New York publisher and adapted into a successful film directed by Ridley Scott and starring Matt Damon.
Weir is back with a second novel, set in and around Artemis, the first city on the moon. “Artemis” takes some chances and shares some strengths with “The Martian,” but the book never achieves liftoff, held back by heavy-handed plotting, facile characterizations and a narrator who’s not as funny as she thinks she is.
After she fails her EVA (Extra-Vehicular Activities) exam thanks to a leaky space suit, Jasmine “Jazz” Bashara receives an offer from a Norwegian billionaire to earn a million bucks (actually, 1 million slugs, the lunar currency). All Artemis’ most dependable Saudi Arabian porter/smuggler has to do is sabotage four automated ore harvesters belonging to Sanchez Aluminum, the company that keeps the Kenyan Space Corp. supplied with oxygen. Oxygen is a byproduct of aluminum smelting, and if the Sanchez smelter is out of commission for any length of time, Jazz’s boss will be able to swoop in and take over the enterprise.
Jazz agrees to the deal without much thought beyond the immediate expansion of her bank account. She is surprised when her plan goes awry and even more shocked when two of her acquaintances wind up dead. The only thing likely to save her own skin is an even more ambitious assault on Sanchez Aluminum, a venture that, if it goes wrong, could endanger the entire city of Artemis.
Weir sets “Artemis” up as a quasi-caper novel, a kind of futuristic “Ocean’s 11.” This is not a bad idea at all. But to be successful, a good heist novel should possess elements that Weir either fumbles or ignores.
Chief among these elements is a protagonist worth rooting for. Jazz shouldn’t be a saint, of course, but greed alone shouldn’t be the motivating factor for taking the job. Weir gives her a slowly revealed back story that explains some of her psychology, but it doesn’t make her much more credible or likable. Jazz makes a lot of stupid mistakes that could easily be avoided, and then seems barely remorseful for them when they endanger others.
Mark Watney, the title character of “The Martian,” was memorable because Weir presented him as a likable everyman faced with an outrageous “how’s he going to solve that?” conflict. He was a wise guy, but also a highly imaginative and skilled astronaut. His self-deprecating sense of humor and will to survive complemented each other, working in nearperfect balance.
Jazz’s constant wisecracking, however, quickly grows tiresome, and her narration doesn’t sound the least bit plausible. After a fistfight, for example, Jazz remarks to herself that she wanted to “claw that bitch’s eyes out and shove them up her urethra.” Physical improbability aside, that kind of internal dialogue doesn’t ring true, even after one of the antagonists calls Jazz a “reckless puddle of exudate.”
If a superior caper requires a solid main character, it also needs a worthy antagonist. In “Artemis,” characters are allowed to be jerks, but with the exception of a semi-competent hit man, no one rises to the level of actual villainy. The plot’s lack of urgency undermines any suspense Weir attempts to generate.
Part of the appeal of “The Martian” was its seeming scientific accuracy. Weir, via Watney, was able to craft exposition that lent verisimilitude and excitement to the enterprise. With “Artemis,” it’s clear that Weir put a lot of effort into his research and world-building, but their application is far from seamless. From close-quarters sleeping arrangements known as “coffins” to the ubiquity of Gunk, the tasteless artificial food product, Jazz does provide the gritty details of what life might be like in a lunar colony, but the info-dumps don’t spark the imagination the way they did in “The Martian.” In particular, there’s a lot of information about welding, probably more on the subject than most readers will want to know.
Weir should not be expected to match or exceed his initial success. That level of notoriety is a lot for any fledgling author to be burdened with. But however Weir decides to follow up “Artemis,” he should recalibrate his internal gauge of what his story really needs, perhaps cutting back on the quips while strengthening the multidimensionality of his cast of heroes and villains.
Michael Berry writes the science fiction and fantasy column for The San Francisco Chronicle. Email: books@sfchronicle.com