Neil Armstrong lands with a thud in Life of Flight

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      Neil Armstrong: A Life of Flight
      By Jay Barbree. Thomas Dunne Books, 362 pp, hardcover

      By all accounts, Neil Armstrong was the real deal: Eagle Scout, war hero, test pilot, family man, astronaut—his life represented not just a collection of superlatives, but a peerless example of mid-century American ideals.

      His is an inspiring story, but it also presents some difficulties when it comes to biography. While there’s plenty of drama, danger, and achievement, there’s apparently no dark side, no counterbalance to the incredible string of accomplishments that led to Armstrong’s first steps on the moon.

      Not that there need or even should be—but it does allow for an easy foray into the realm of hagiography. It’s a path that veteran NBC journalist Jay Barbree follows in Neil Armstrong: A Life of Flight.

      An old hand at space reporting, Barbree is the only correspondent to have covered all 166 manned American launches in person. Decades of working around the launch facilities at Cape Canaveral have given him an immense number of contacts, and allowed him to develop friendships with many astronauts, most notably Armstrong himself.

      It’s Barbree’s relationship with Armstrong, which began in 1962, that serves as the centrepiece of the book. Years of interviews, friendly conversations, and emails with the astronaut are used to flesh out Armstrong’s story. 

      It’s a very personal book, and therein lies the problem. Barbree clearly has aspirations of a comprehensive look at Armstrong’s life, but his obvious affection for his subject derails an objective analysis. What we’re left with is a folksy Paul Harvey–type reminiscence of a treasured friend rather than a scholarly biography.

      That, in and of itself, would be fine if it’s what one wants, but there’s a feeling of sloppiness to the effort. There are spelling mistakes, confusing timelines, and murky descriptions. What’s more, Barbree’s tendency toward sugar-coating can obscure facts —for example, he writes about John Glenn strolling off the shuttle Discovery in 1998 “without a care in the world”, when it was widely reported that Glenn spent two hours vomiting and suffering from space sickness before emerging. A quibble, perhaps, but it makes one wonder what else is either wrong or misrepresented. At the very least, the manuscript could have used another look from an editor.

      In the end, Neil Armstrong: A Life of Flight mostly just feels like a missed opportunity. With Barbree’s contacts and access, this could have been a serious piece of history. Instead, it winds up saying almost as much about its author as it does about its subject.

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