'Atmosphere' by Taylor Jenkins Reid
- Reed
- Jul 10
- 2 min read
Author: Taylor Jenkins Reid
Rating: A
Vibe: 1980s NASA with hidden love affairs, scientific ambition, and the weight of staying invisible
Quick Take: A masterful summer read that makes the heavy subject of closeted life in the space program both engaging and deeply authentic
There's something magical about a book that can transport you completely while tackling serious themes, and Atmosphere does exactly that. Taylor Jenkins Reid takes us inside the 1980s NASA space shuttle program through Joan Goodwin, a physics professor who burns to be among the first women scientists in space. What could have been a simple workplace drama becomes something much richer: a story about the impossible choices we make when the world demands we hide who we are, told through characters whose dreams reach literally for the stars.
The 1980s setting isn't just window dressing here—it's essential to every relationship, every stolen moment, every professional decision these women make. Reid clearly did her homework, and the astronaut training world feels lived-in rather than researched. The need to stay closeted isn't presented as an abstract challenge but as a central, suffocating reality that shapes every interaction. These women are navigating not just the male-dominated world of space exploration, but doing so while keeping the most fundamental parts of themselves invisible.
What impressed me most was how seamlessly the personal and professional threads intertwine. Joan's scientific ambitions and her hidden relationship don't compete for space—they're inextricably linked, each making the other more urgent and more precious. There's real joy in watching these characters excel in their training while finding ways to love each other in secret, even as the tension of that secrecy runs underneath everything.
The emotional authenticity here is remarkable. Reid avoids every tired trope about forbidden love and instead gives us something nuanced and real. The weight of staying hidden isn't romanticized or simplified—it's presented as the complex, exhausting reality it was. The pacing keeps you turning pages while never shortchanging the emotional beats, and somehow manages to make heavy subject matter genuinely engaging without ever feeling light or dismissive.
As a gay man reading about these experiences, I found myself recognizing beats I know intimately. The careful calculation of every public interaction, the way love has to be carved out in hidden spaces, the exhausting performance of being someone else in professional settings—these are universal experiences for anyone who's lived closeted. While I didn't identify with them as women, their story rang completely true to my own understanding of what it means to love in secret while trying to build a life.
Atmosphere manages to be both a perfect summer escapist read and a thoughtful exploration of identity, ambition, and the cost of invisibility. It's engaging without being shallow, historical without feeling distant, and ultimately deeply hopeful about the ways we find each other even in impossible circumstances. This is the kind of book that reminds you why representation matters—not just because we need to see ourselves in stories, but because the best stories help us recognize the shared humanity in experiences that might seem different from our own.
