Jazz, our heroine, is a sparky young woman who (while her observant Muslim father tut-tuts) gets drunk, has sex and generally tries to have a good time. “Artemis” itself is a five-dome moonbase, servicing a little heavy industry and rather more tourism. The setting is lunar rather than Martian, but otherwise it’s basically the same pitch. His second novel concerns a likable protagonist in peril, saved by her own resourcefulness, in a tale that leaves readers better informed about science than they were before they read it. Weir, clearly, adheres to the principle that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it (and, presumably, if it is broke, patch it up with duct tape). Weir adheres to the principle that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it (and if it is broke, patch it up with duct tape) That’s the sweet spot The Martian hit: a likable protagonist in peril, saved by his own resourcefulness in a tale that leaves readers better informed about science than they were before they read it. The reader learns a lot about the Martian environment, how to grow potatoes, how to get into orbit and so on. This simple narrative tug – will he survive or not? – gives Weir a line on which to hang a large number of interesting facts and little lectures. Indeed, the book was such a blockbuster you probably know its story: an astronaut, stranded on Mars, has to use his scientific expertise to stay alive for two years until rescue can reach him. Straight out of the gates with a global hit. Initially self-published, it became a word-of-mouth hit, got picked up by a regular publisher, sold 5m copies and was made into a blockbuster film by Ridley Scott. A ndy Weir’s first novel, The Martian, enjoyed a measure of success liable to make other writers slump slack-jawed and drooling, like Homer Simpson before a doughnut.
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