How the Soviets Explored the Cosmic Void and Found … Nothing

Abstract

James T. Andrews and Asif A. Siddiqi, eds., Into Cosmos. 344 pp. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011. ISBN-13 978-0822961611. $27.95. Andrew L. Jenks, The Cosmonaut Who Couldn't Stop Smiling. 318 pp. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2011. ISBN-13 978-0875804477.$35.00. Eva Maurer, Julia Richers, Monica Ruthers, and Carmen Scheide, eds., Soviet Space Culture. 344 pp. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. ISBN-13 978-0230274358. $90.00. In fullness of time, Soviet success in space exploration during 1950s and 1960s may well overshadow defeat of Nazis as greatest Soviet achievement. (Alexei Kojevnikov, in his introductory essay in Into Cosmos, goes so far as to say that Sputnik and Gagarin are on their way to attaining status of historical icons, like the pyramids, Great Wall, Santa Maria, evolution, and atomic bomb.) Many countries have evicted an invading army, but only one launched first satellite and first man into space, with added dramatic element of doing so just years after losing millions of citizens and a tremendous amount of economic infrastructure in a war. Despite historical significance and emotional appeal attached to inauguration of Space Age, body of scholarly literature related to Soviet space program remains somewhat undeveloped, with most existing works focused on lifting cloak of secrecy surrounding launches and personnel. The opening of Soviet archives has by now allowed historians to establish reliable answers to fundamental questions such as were true Soviet aims in space? and how close were Soviets to landing a man on moon? Especially thanks to publication of Asif Siddiqi's encyclopedic Challenge to Apollo historians can turn their attention away from what cosmonauts and engineers did and toward what rockets meant. The three books considered here represent a part of this shift, as each aims to highlight impact of space exploration on Soviet society, using space travel as a lens to examine Soviet project more broadly. In addition to this common emphasis, books share a remarkably critical attitude to their object of study, consistently pointing out failure and duplicity that surrounded program. An unstated conclusion impresses itself on mind of anyone who reads them in tandem: while Soviets attempted to use space exploration to support their contention that a socialist country could best chart a path to stars and inaugurate a new era for humanity, they ultimately found in cosmic void nothing usable--only empty space. The unusual thematic unity of these books, two of which are collected volumes and therefore not necessarily expected to promote an argument, derives in part from significant level of common authorship. Andrew Jenks, author of Gagarin biography, contributes an essay to Into Cosmos; Slava Gerovitch, Victoria Smolkin-Rothrock, and Roshanna Sylvester each offer articles in both Into Cosmos and Soviet Space Culture; and Siddiqi writes introduction and an article for Into Cosmos and epilogue for Soviet Space Culture. The limited degree to which volumes diverge from their shared outlook appears related to nationality of authors whose works appear in all three books. The Cosmonaut Who Couldnt Stop Smiling is by an American, and American historians dominate Into Cosmos. Both are far more critical in tone than Soviet Space Culture, which features authors from Europe as well as United States, and essays of European provenance are more descriptive than interpretive. Aside from these few exceptions, overwhelming impression made by three books is that Soviet spaceflight, rather than a world historical accomplishment or romantic struggle to break bonds of earth, in truth lays bare fundamental emptiness of Soviet project as a whole. …