Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys Book

Collins notes early on in this book that he chose to eschew the services of a ghostwriter, apologizing that the prose will not be as polished as a result. It was a wise choice.

Collins' voice is friendly and straightforward, eminently likeable. He has little interest in delving into deep psychological analysis or talking much at all about his personal life, choosing instead to focus on his path, and NASA's, to the moon. Self-deprecating humor and a profound appreciation for the contributions of the people surrounding him keeps the tone light and prevents any trace of boasting as he recounts a remarkable career.

The details really are fascinating. I knew a lot of the history, having been an enormous space buff as a child, but there's a difference in hearing it from a personal perspective. The Apollo 1 fire, for example, skips any of the gruesome descriptions that other works have lingered on--these were people he knew well and Collins has no interest in describing their deaths in detail. His perspective is that of the only person available to drive out and tell one of the dead men's wives before she can hear it from the media. It brings a different perspective.

Other details are just amusing. I'd known that the astronauts were quarantined upon their return. I had not realized they were essentially loaded up in a shipping container with a big window and shipped, flown, and finally driven home by flatbed truck like a cargo of zoo animals. It was a hilarious image.

Some technical details are discussed, but only to give context to conversations. Politics is ignored almost completely, as is most of the situation with the Russians. And if you're looking for deep insights into the personalities of Collins and his fellow adventurers, you'll find little direct information here. As Collins himself points out, if they had wanted emoting on cue, they shouldn't have picked test pilots. Collins himself writes like what he is--an intelligent, practical man who was perfectly suited to keep a calm head and somewhat less suited to wax rhapsodic. (He also expresses a classic Playboy-style appreciation for attractive women and martinis that's somewhat startling these days, but the book was written in the 70s, after all.) But he also sells himself a bit short, self-deprecating as always--this work is engaging, articulate, endearing, and ultimately fascinating.