The Red Planet: A Natural History of Mars by Simon Morden
Simon Morden’s The Red Planet: A Natural History of Mars (2021) is a detailed look at the history of Mars’ geology, and there lies both its appeal and, for some, perhaps, its lack of appeal. As fascinating as much of the book is, I confess it sometimes got a little too deep into the weeds (or the rock formations) for my own preferences, though having “too much information” is hardly a major indictment for a non-fiction work. And certainly the questions about how much water Mars had and when/for how long are fascinating, as is their connection to the possibility of life on the supposedly “dead” planet.
Morden begins, well, at the beginning. Or technically, if we’re talking about Mars, before the beginning, starting instead with the formation of the solar system and then explaining how the various planets, including Mars, formed and then ended up where they are today. Or, at least, he explains the best theories behind those events. Early on he’s explicit about how “we stand on uncertain ground [as] there are different routes Mars could have taken to reach the same point … but we don’t know which one … or even whether it traveled just one.” It’s why he calls Mars an “unreliable narrator.” He’s also upfront about how when faced with “alternative explanations … I may pick my favorite.”
Once Mars has formed, Morden divides the planet’s history into large epochs, and then methodically explains the creation — and sometimes the disappearance — of some of the planet’s major features, such as Olympus Mons (second tallest mountain in the solar system) Valles Marineris (a canyon the length of the United States), the Great Dichotomy (the vast difference in the altitude of the northern and southern halves of the planet), and the Medusae Fossae Formation (source of all that dust), along with the formations of craters, ice caps, rivers, oceans, and more. The author also periodically intersperses more imaginative second person chapters placing the “you” on the planet, allowing for some more vivid language and description, though Morden also turns his descriptive skills to a few other events described in the more prosaic chapters.
As noted, The Red Planet: A Natural History of Mars goes into a great wealth of detail, a bit too much so for me and perhaps for others, though not so much that one can’t work their way through it (or, if you’re a skimmer, you won’t be forced to skim too much). And while it’s dense, it isn’t particularly technical or arcane, so comprehension is never an issue. At the end, Morden considers the possibility of human exploration and/or colonization. He makes a number of good points and, in fact, I wish that section had been longer and ironically, more detailed. Guess you can’t please everyone all the time.
Thank you for this review, I was planning on get this book but now seem like I need to charge me with astrophysics before have The Red Planet on hands