Rating: 3.25/5 
This summer, during a U2 concert in Seattle, astronaut Mark Kelly appeared in a pre-recorded message from the International Space Station in tribute to his wife Gabrielle Giffords, the congresswoman wounded in Arizona during a shooting last January. From the (relative) comfort of my Quest Field seat, I watched the commander use cut-out letters to spell out “A Beautiful Day” in zero gravity. To us, floating around in space may seem like a bunch of fun. But what happens when you need to use the bathroom or, even worse, vomit in the confines of a capsule or a space station? This is where Roach and Packing for Mars step in.
Written in a humorous tone that will draw in even the least science-inclined and filled with many gross-out moments, Packing for Mars provides a behind the scenes look at space travel that NASA doesn’t publicize in the footage of men leaping on the moon or scenes of homegrown heroes returning from a trip into the void. In a short span she covers the most human aspects of space travel from peeing to pooping to dealing with the inevitable body odor that permeates a long trip. If you think marriage makes you accustomed to smelling your partner’s farts, imagine doing it in a space capsule barely the size of your bed. And not being able to leave.
The book is divided into short chapters, each dealing with a particular conundrum NASA (and other international) scientists have tackled to get human beings into outer space. The more amusing chapters deal with solving the dilemmas caused by basic bodily functions. Roach can be funny at times (though her jokes often fall flat) but nothing beats reading a transcript where astronaut John Young complains during the Apollo 16 mission, “I got the farts again. I got ’em again, Charlie. I don’t know what the hell gives them to me.” Also, keep an eye out for the section where one crew has troubles with airborne turds drifting into their living quarters.
Does that make you cringe? I’m sorry. In her prior books, Roach has tackled death, the afterlife and sex (I guess taxes are next). Sex makes another appearance in Packing for Mars when Roach explores the plausibility of sex in space. That will show those Mile High Club pussies! But while NASA doesn’t expect its crews to be celibate, there is no evidence of any sex having occurred in outer space. One Russian cosmonaut did have his request for a blow-up doll denied, however. Roach even tracks down and debunks a pornographic film purported to take place in zero gravity.
The majority of Packing to Mars may look back at past challenges and the ways around them, but its final section confronts the what ifs involved with putting people on Mars. The Red Planet is a much longer way away than the moon, the distance creating an entire new set of issues. For starters, in order to keep the astronauts hydrated, urine would need to be recycled. Roach even goes as far as to taste recycled urine for the sake of science.
Though Packing for Mars does not contain a cohesive narrative, Roach’s vigor and fearlessness keep it interesting. She writes for people who do not understand the basics of science, so it may be a bit elementary for some. But by the book’s end, it is difficult to understand anyone’s motive for going into space besides a crazed mixture of lunacy (pun intended) and manifest destiny. Even Roach herself walks away a proponent of getting human beings onto Mars. But at what expense on both a financial and human level? I just find it hard to justify spending $500 billion to send a few people to another planet when we have so many problems to solve on this one.
