Product Description

For the fiftieth anniversary of Sputnik, the behind-the-scenes story of the fierce battles on earth that launched the superpowers into space The spy planes were driving Nikita Khrushchev mad. Whenever America wanted to peer inside the Soviet Union, it launched a U-2, which flew too high to be shot down. But Sergei Korolev, Russia's chief rocket designer, had a riposte: an artificial satellite that would orbit the earth and cross American skies at will. On October 4, 1957, the launch of Korolev's satellite, Sputnik, stunned the world. In Red Moon Rising, Matthew Brzezinski takes us inside the Kremlin, the White House, secret military facilities, and the halls of Congress to bring to life the Russians and Americans who feared and distrusted their compatriots as much as their superpower rivals. Drawing on original interviews and new documentary sources from both sides of the Cold War divide, he shows how Khrushchev and Dwight Eisenhower were buffeted by crises of their own creation, leaving the door open to ambitious politicians and scientists to squabble over the heavens and the earth. It is a story rich in the paranoia of the time, with combatants that included two future presidents, survivors of the gulag, corporate chieftains, rehabilitated Nazis, and a general who won the day by refusing to follow orders. Sputnik set in motion events that led not only to the moon landing but also to cell phones, federally guaranteed student loans, and the wireless Internet. Red Moon Rising recounts the true story of the birth of the space age in dramatic detail, bringing it to life as never before.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #66288 in eBooks
• Published on: 2007-09-18
• Released on: 2007-09-18
• Format: Kindle Book
• Number of items: 1

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. The writing is fast-paced and crisp, the stakes high and the tension palpable from the first pages of this high-flying account of the early days of the space race between the U.S. and U.S.S.R., a race ignited by the Soviet launch of the first satellite, Sputnik, in 1957. Brzezinski (Fortress America), a contributor to the New York Times Magazine, says this battle for military and technological control of space, part of the larger Cold War, had lasting consequences. Brzezinski illuminates how the space race divided Americans: for instance, then Sen. Lyndon Johnson wanted to aggressively pursue the race, but President Eisenhower thought the ambitious senator was merely seeking publicity. The author also dissects the failed American spin: despite White House claims that Sputnik was no big deal, the media knew it was huge. Sputnik II, launched a month later, was even more unsettling for Americans, causing them to question their way of life. The principals—Khrushchev, Eisenhower, John Foster Dulles, rocket scientist Werner von Braun—are vividly realized. Yet even more than his absorbing narrative, Brzezinski's final analysis has staying power: although the U.S. caught up to the U.S.S.R., it was the Russians' early dominance in space that established the Soviet Union as a superpower equal to America. (Sept.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post
Reviewed by Bryan Burrough

Let's face it: No one cares about space. NASA long ago became the governmental equivalent of NASCAR. The only time non-fans even notice it exists is when something crashes or explodes -- or when an addled astronaut dons space diapers in a bizarro cross-country bid to mace a romantic rival. (These things happen.) Ask any magazine editor: Nothing sells worse than a space cover. And space books? Oh, the horror. Mine sold 17 copies. And that counts my wife's book group.

The latest author to sink his pitons into this Everest of apathy is Matthew Brzezinski, a former Moscow correspondent for the Wall Street Journal. His Red Moon Rising chronicles the Russo-American space race of the mid-1950s. Authors of popular history tend to rise from two schools: those who seek to hook the reader with new information, and those who rely on storytelling skills. Brzezinski, no doubt aware of the challenge before him, springs with vigor from the latter camp. He is a storyteller on steroids, a savvy young cowboy who seizes the narrative bull by the horns, wrestles it to the dirt and furiously ropes up an energetic tale that owes less to F. Scott Fitzgerald than to F. Murray Abraham.

To say his prose is cinematic is an understatement. At times Red Moon Rising feels more like a screenplay than conventional nonfiction; all that's missing is camera instructions. The story opens on a chill Dutch dawn, 1944. A German V-2 rocket rises into the gloaming, arcs toward London and vaporizes a suburban street. Cut to: a Soviet scientist poking through a secret German rocket facility outside the ruins of Berlin, lifting its secrets. Cut to: a lonely GI stumbling upon a Nazi rocket factory deep in a German mountainside. Think I'm exaggerating? In his acknowledgments, Brzezinski thanks one old Russian for memories that form "some of the book's best action scenes."

When Brzezinski reaches the meat of his tale, you'd swear you were reading Francis Ford Coppola. He tells the entire story of postwar Soviet political and missile development during a single visit Nikita Khrushchev and other Politburo members make to a Russian missile base in 1956. It's a device straight out of "The Godfather," only instead of all the players being introduced during a festive Italian wedding, they're shown smoothing their goatees and bickering as they inspect rockets. Amid all the digressions and asides, you half expect Luca Brazzi to slink into the frame. Or Enzo the Baker.

In time, Brzezinski calms down, settling into a kind of pop-eyed, neo-Wolfean style. The characters parade by on brightly painted floats: Khrushchev, unlettered but unfettered, soiling the odd Polish toilet; Sergei Korolev, the Soviets' supersecret Chief Designer, pining for his daughter's love even as he samples his sister-in-law's; Wernher von Braun, the German aristocrat reborn in rural Alabama, sniffing at the stupid Americans. In spots Brzezinski overdoes it, his prose growing a tad ripe. The U.S. secretary of defense, Charles Wilson, is repeatedly referred to by his nickname, "Engine Charlie." Rockets "fling" nuclear warheads. Scientists don't work. They "beaver away."

Yet, however broad Brzezinski's strokes, one comes away not only entertained but informed, with a clear sense of why the pennywise Soviets leapt ahead in missile technology while the Americans, focused on developing bombers to reach Russian soil, failed to realize the importance of space until they woke beneath a communist moon. What interests Brzezinski most, aside from his characters' myriad foibles, is the bureaucratic struggles leading up to Sputnik's launch -- the internecine squabbles between arms of the Soviet bureaucracy as well as those between the Army and Air Force. Few officials on either side, it appears, had any clue what a very big deal Sputnik was until the Western press learned of it, declaring the Russians had won the first heat in a race no one had quite understood they were running.

Throughout, Brzezinski remains in firm control, carving a fast-moving narrative from his own interviews and the research of others, bringing the story to a close when von Braun matches the Soviets by launching a U.S. satellite. Some of the book's set pieces -- er, action scenes -- show real promise, especially Sputnik's nail-biting launch from a Central Asian spaceport. In the end, what you think of Red Moon Rising probably depends on what you expect from popular history. Want a fun, easy read, something you can gulp down while idling in the after-school pickup line? Buy it. Want something comprehensive, authoritative, Caro-like? Pass. Whatever your preference, keep in mind the name Matthew Brzezinski. This book feels like a practice run from a young author destined for big things.

Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

From Booklist
Comparable to Paul Dickson's Sputnik: Shock of the Century (2001), Brzezinski's speedy narrative of the first satellite slings readers from launch pads to conference rooms. Beyond the storied facts of the Sputnik event, Brzezinski integrates a theme of Eisenhower and Khrushchev's initially dim understanding of Sputnik's significance. They soon sensed the extraordinary societal reaction of pride in the USSR and panic in the U.S., but their adjustments were quite different. Brzezinski dramatizes Khrushchev's personally shaky grip on power in 1957, when Stalinists attempted to oust him, connecting the satellite spectacular to a reinforcement of his political position. Ike, on the other hand, his eye on expenses, tried to resist the do-something stampede but was overwhelmed. From the domestic politics of the cold-war rivals, Brzezinski shifts to the technically temperamental missiles with which the Soviet Union's secret "Chief Designer" (Sergei Korolev) and his counterparts on rival U.S. Army and Navy teams strove to heave an orbiting orb. A kinetic rendition of Sputnik, this will score with spaceflight buffs. Taylor, Gilbert

Customer Reviews

"One Small Ball" and the Terror that Started the Space Race
I must have received a pre-release copy of 'Red Moon Rising' because I review books for a large newspaper. Two weeks ago the doorbell rang and there it was on my doorstep. I'm glad they sent it. This political history of the sputnik launch reads as if it was co-written by Ian Flemming.

The political effects of the Soviet launch of Sputnik in October 1957 shocked the Russians as much as the Americans: Sputnik was simply the by-product of Soviet attempts to create a decent missile-weapons system. But by being the first in space, the USSR placed itself in an orbit equal with the world's then sole superpower, the USA. PS1--prostreishy sputnik, or `simplest satellite,'--spent only 92 days beeping innocuously far above the earth, but it instilled far more terror in the West than 1000s of silos spread across Siberia ever could. And Khrushchev, technologically ignorant but ever the opportunist, milked it for all it was worth.

Of course for the USA the launch of Sputnik was humiliating, shattering America's complacency and belief in its technological superiority, and exposing US security weaknesses even then ("For the Soviets, it was mind-boggling how much information the Americans naively left lying around for the KGB to scoop up. Russian generals didn't need a satellite to find out what was going on in Washington. They needed a missile to destroy it." pg. 144). Most significantly, Sputnik caused untold political upheaval. That "one small ball" was Eisenhower's undoing.

In fact, 'Red Moon Rising' is essentially just this--a political history of technology, not the history of a technological event. The author, Matthew Brzezinski, tells the story of the politics--not so much the science--behind the development of Russia's missile program and how Sputnik's launch (which was little more than an afterthought in Russia's defense strategy) started the space race.

It does start off a little slow, and keeping track of the different players in this drama requires that the reader pay attention. But it's worth getting through the first few chapaters and remembering who's who.

With its quick pace, trans-global intrigue, and cast of ego-maniacal scientists, generals, and heads of state, this is a great book. And as an example of how a history of major political events can be constructed around an important technological moment, 'Red Moon Rising' is excellent.

Fascinating look at the early space race
This book is a fascinating look at the start of the space race, how the Soviets won and why, and the forces that surrounded those momentous events. Author Brzezinski works both sides of the Iron Curtain, showing what influenced Khrushchev's interest in the project and Eisenhower's disdain of the American counterpart, and makes it clear how really happenstance and uncertain the whole thing was.

The Soviet effort was headed by a visionary who's pretty much unknown outside Russia, and rather obscure even within his native country. His name was Sergei Korolev, and he was the visionary behind much of the early Soviet space program. The Soviets, of course, were paranoid, and their leadership was constantly insistent on the leadership getting credit for everything, so even in Khrushchev's more liberal Soviet Union Korolev's name was classified until after his death. The author does a wonderful job recreating the life of this loud, boisterous, intelligent scientist who wasn't the best rocket designer, but was a pretty good project manager who contrived to use other people's talents to their full potential. His counterpart, Bruce Medaris (another unknown), is similarly brought to life, and the result is a fascinating look at the early space programs of the two countries involved.

The book is to a fair extent about the politics involved in the race on each side, so there's a considerable discussion of the major issues of the day, especially those which distracted President Eisenhower or Khrushchev when either of them was trying to make a decision regarding the launching of missiles or satellites. Eisenhower had to deal with the British and French invading Egypt, and himself sort of invade Little Rock, Arkansas with the 101st Airborne to integrate the schools there. Khrushchev had a failed coup to weather, a too-popular army chief to demote, and a stumbling economy. And of course neither of the men recognized how important Sputnik was going to be until it was up in the sky, beeping harmlessly and orbiting the earth. Pravda barely noted the launch the day it happened: the following day, when it had become clear that everyone else was impressed, the headline was inches in height.

This is a very good book, interesting and well-written. It works well on several levels, as a political history of the United States, as a cautionary tale of the dangers of bureaucratic rivalry in our government, as a further cautionary tale of the dangers of believing every bit of intelligence passed through the hands of the government, and as an interesting discussion of why the Soviets were good at some things and so very bad at others. I would recommend Red Moon Rising.

" . . . it's a Commie sky and Uncle Sam's asleep."
Those song lyrics were written by the governor of Michigan, one of many Americans who thought President Eisenhower was spending too much time golfing and not enough worrying about the Soviets and their Sputnik beeping above the earth.

Red Moon Rising is a detailed technological history, but it's even more interesting as a social and political history.

It was liberal Democrats like JFK and Lyndon ("I'll be damned if I sleep under a Red Moon") Johnson who used a nonexistent "Missile Gap" as a campaign issue against the Republican Eisenhower. That scared the American public, and the U.S. started on a road which led to the shooting down of a U-2 spyplane over the USSR, the U.S. stationing of Jupiter missiles in Turkey, the Bay of Pigs, and the Cuban Missile Crisis.

It's also interesting how Walt Disney (on his new TV show) created an image of Werner von Braun as a dispassionate scientist, bringing Tomorrowland's imagined future to reality. No mention of the slave labor von Braun used to build V-2 rockets for Hitler.

Or, as Basil Fawlty said in another context, "Don't mention the war."

But, as Matthew Brzeszinski shows in Red Moon Rising, you have to mention it. It was the personalities who came out of World War II - - people like Eisenhower, Stalin, Sergei Korolev, Werner von Braun, Nikita Khrushchev, Lavrenty Beria, and Allen Dulles - - who gave us the world of ICBMs, satellites, and Apollo Moon launches.

But not against our will. Beep. Beep.