A Man on the Moon: The Voyages of the Apollo Astronauts by Andrew Chaikin

I try to avoid general histories of Project Apollo. After reading dozens of books on the program, the basic events are pretty well burned into my brain. Seeing them recounted in books again and again, my eyes tend to jump past familiar material in search of a fresh anecdote, a little-known fact, or even a tiny piece of new technical trivia. This was the attitude I took into Andrew Chaikin’s well-regarded general history A Man on the Moon. Happily, Chaikin proved me wrong, demonstrating that in the hands of a talented storyteller, this kind of material can still be fashioned into a compelling narrative.

A Man on the Moon was originally published in 1994, twenty-two years after the final moon landing. It preceded the resurgence in Apollo interest brought about by the film Apollo 13, and it would eventually serve as a basis for HBO’s exceptional miniseries From the Earth to the Moon. Chaikin, a journalist and author with a special interest in the space program, put together his book over the course of several years. He conducted hundreds of hours of interviews with the astronauts, getting at their inner thoughts and recording their reflections on the missions. These interviews make all the difference. It’s one thing to write about the command module of Apollo 8 entering orbit around the moon. It’s another to learn about commander Frank Borman’s apprehension about the mission’s risks, Bill Anders’ amazement at the blackness of the moon’s shadow, and Jim Lovell’s wonder at the Jules Verne stories of his boyhood coming true. These and a thousand other details make the familiar compelling.

Chaikin’s sense of storytelling is strong, and as one might expect, the seasoned author and editor is a stronger writer than most of the astronauts are in their own memoirs. He walks a fine line, developing central themes of each mission while not reducing each flight to a few bullet points. Thanks to the astronaut interviews, each mission is told solidly from the astronauts’ point of view. There are bits and pieces of information about flight controllers, managers, and other members of the Apollo team, but we mainly see events from the front lines of the program.

One of the biggest shifts in the Apollo program was from the initial landings, which simply tried to get down to the ground safely, to the late J-series missions, which pushed the astronauts and the hardware much further during three-day stays on the surface. The science equipment and training became more sophisticated with each flight, and it’s fascinating to see the individual astronauts’ attitudes toward the program’s scientific bent. Many of them signed up for spaceflight as the ultimate test of their piloting skills, yet they also had to take crash courses in geology in order to maximize the scientific return of the moon voyages. Some, such as Apollo 15’s David Scott, quickly took to this added scientific dimension of the program. Others, including Apollo 14’s Alan Shepard, seemed relatively indifferent to geology. Chaikin does a wonderful job of covering the transition from flight tests to true scientific expeditions.

The book also handles the winding-down of Apollo well. A general tone of lament is clear throughout, but Chaikin also makes it clear that there was real anger at the way human exploration of the solar system stopped so suddenly. One tale from Apollo 17 highlights this reaction.

As Apollo 17 prepared to leave lunar orbit near the end of the mission, Houston relayed a statement from President Richard Nixon. Following a string of standard platitudes about Apollo (a program whose end he hastened), Nixon says, "This may be the last time in this century that men will walk upon the moon, but space exploration will continue..." Chaikin takes us inside the mind of Harrison Schmitt, the first scientist-astronaut, who was still dirty with lunar dust when Nixon’s message arrived. Schmitt was furious about the message's finality and lack of vision. The statement seemed to send a clear message to young people that they might as well not bother becoming astronauts. After sending 12 men to the moon in the span of three years, the nation wouldn’t repeat the feat for decades. (As of this writing in 2024, it hasn’t happened yet.)

The book ends by catching up with the Apollo astronauts’ later lives. Many went into business. Alan Bean took to painting. Jim Irwin became a preacher. Edgar Mitchell studied the paranormal. John Young remained with NASA, flying the first space shuttle flight in 1981. After the book provided such a personal look at the astronauts during their missions, I enjoyed seeing how Apollo changed (or didn’t change) each of the few men who flew to the moon.

In a 2007 afterword, Chaikin discusses how a lack of progress in human spaceflight has forced exploration-hungry observers to turn their interest to robotic probes. To be certain, the achievements of these remote-controlled explorers have been impressive and exciting to watch. As Chaikin wrote, two rovers were exploring Mars, Cassini had arrived at Saturn, and New Horizons was just beginning its journey to Pluto. But Chaikin's view is that only human spaceflight can inspire people and ignite their passions in the way Apollo did. His A Man on the Moon is a compelling narrative of the people who undertook one of these epic journeys. It deserves a place as one of the core volumes in any Apollo library.