Astronauts seem almost without exception to present a specific kind of warm, honest, transparent, but also restrained and clinical image, both to that intermittent panopticon of the public eye but also in less visible circumstances. This seems to date back to at least the earliest test pilots-turned-spacemen -
“He pressed the other astronauts to set a moral example, living up to the squeaky-clean image of them that had been portrayed by Life magazine, a position that was not popular with the other astronauts”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Glenn
I don’t think this is really any kind of counterfeit virtue or stately censorship, so much as a sort of natural product of a process that makes highly-trained, psychologically cool team players. Every person makes a judgement call on what reflections in their mind they choose to commit to history - and the editors and public-affairs teams winnow the outputs further - and I think these omissions often make a much finer product.
On the other hand, this is a candid book. On the first reading, some parts gave me a brief flicker of an uncle recounting an especially grungy camping trip. On the second reading I don’t put any kind of value judgement on this against the backdrop of Scott Kelly being, without a doubt, a man who should be respected for duty and accomplishments.
Kelly writes about his side of the events leading to his divorce with his first wife. Some of the text is ugly and the paragraphs stung to read.
“You guys put dill on everything. Some of this food might actually be good if it weren’t covered in dill.”
“Ah, okay, I understand,” Gennady says, nodding, his signature smile starting to emerge. “It’s from when the Russian diet consisted mostly of potatoes, cabbage, and vodka. Dill gets rid of farts.”
Later I google it. It’s true. As it happens, getting rid of gas is a worthwhile goal before being sealed into a small tin can together for many hours, so I stop complaining about the dill.
[!info]
I’m slightly more skeptical of this than Scott.This paragraph got me interested in this topic, and I wrote more about this here.
This part hits a little weird if you think about it like colleagues in an office.
Samantha hugs Gennady, then Misha, then me. It seems to me that Samantha gives me an extra-big hug, and after she has disappeared I realize that I won’t be in the physical presence of a woman again for nine months.