#heinlein

Cover illustration by Richard Powers

Though people associate it with very old science fiction, you won't see any occurrence of the term in its current meaning (a human inhabitant of the planet Earth, as opposed to an extraterrestrial) prior to 1949.

Actually, the term was first used by the Old Man himself, Robert E. Heinlein, in his 1949 novel "Red Planet" (a novel remembered for a weird digression where they explain the ethics of adults responsibly allowing children to carry loaded firearms). This all the way back when the Old Man was not quite so old yet, when RAH was actually a hotshot young lion looking to make a name for himself in the pages of the greatest scifi pulp of them all, Astounding Science Fiction under John W. Campbell, right at the dawn of the Golden Age of Science Fiction.

Heinlein created the term Earthling and used it in a lot of his work instead of human because it was very important to distinguish in his stories between humans from Earth and, say, colonists of human stock from Mars, like in Podkayne of Mars. Hello, Mars used another interesting term with the same origin, where humans born in space referred to humans that lived their entire life on earth (semi-derogatorily) as "groundhogs."

The term caught on because Heinlein used it in his juveniles (what today we'd call "young adult" books), and to every generation prior to the Millennials, Heinlein was THE science fiction writer, much like how Agatha Christie is THE mystery author. It's a strange irony that, now that young adult books run the world, the young adult scifi author has mostly vanished from prominence.

Prior to 1949, scifi writers used a lot of other variant terms for humans from Earth. E.E. Smith, who Heinlein admired and listed as his single biggest influence (and from who Heinlein got the idea of space marines in power armor, an idea the Old Man used in Starship Troopers), used the term Tellurian to refer to humans from Earth in the Lensman novels, as Earth in his future era was known as Tellus, an erudite term for a god of Earth in Greek Myth used in Hamlet. Humanoids in the Lensman series were known as "Tellus-type lifeforms."

(You know, I feel like Tellurian for human and Tellus for Planet Earth should make a comeback.)

There’s a lot to like about Andy Weir’s Artemis. Sci-fi plus crime thriller; spunky protagonist (who, yes, admittedly sounds a lot like the protagonist of Weir’s other novel, The Martian). Set in humanity’s first lunar city, the novel follows Jazz Bashara through a heist that could set her up for life—or set Artemis on a path towards its doom!

I found Jazz to be assertive and entertaining. There’s a bit of cliche in her backstory—brilliant and intelligent, but not living up to her full potential. But her voice and her attitude make her likeable, and her relationships with others keep things interesting, and in particular her relationship with her father. Jazz also has a pen pal on earth, Kelvin, who we get to know through messages that intersperse each chapter. These start off in the past, but eventually catch up to the present, which means we learn about Jazz’s past mistakes and personal growth. But as the past meets present, Kelvin has an impact on the narrative itself. I thought this was quite a clever device.

I thought the hard science was great, and I found the book to be genuinely educational, much like The Martian. The physics, from how welding works to oxygen production, are described in a way that makes the possibilities of living on the moon seem real. Maybe someone with more knowledge about the science might be able to pick holes in it, but for a layman I enjoyed it.

At the heart of the story is a heist. This was well structured, escalating naturally from Jazz’s smalltime smuggling operations to a huge conspiracy. In true sci-fi fashion, Weir uses the setting to create constraints and opportunities that make the crime thriller vibes feel truly unique. Isolation, life support, limited escape routes—all these play a big part.

And, of course, I enjoyed the nods to Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (my favourite: we don’t actually like to be called loonies). And Weir is able to navigate the setting in a way that feels new, thinking more about the economics of the situation that the politics.

Also Some Kind of Hero makes me sob like a baby

Oh yeah the lyrics at the end make it pretty clear -- the LunarDome he returns to is a international (or at least Russian + American) project, so one of the ghost/heroes he saw was Tropey Russian. I'm more confused why he saw the apparitions as women, since all but one of the names are clearly male:

And he forgot it all until he got to Lunardome He passed beneath the hologram that stands above the door And recognised the faces there, he’d seen them all before Gus, and Ed, and Roger made him hold to hope and try The Russians, Ronald, Christa too, they wouldn’t let him die

OH WAIT I'M DUMB. Those names are referencing the deaths in Apollo 1, Challenger, Soyuz 1, Soyuz 11. Thanks @ Genius lyrics for pointing that out. (Still doesn't explain the reverse-valkyrie portrayal of the heroes in the song though...)