The War Of The Worlds is an important novel: one of the most influential science fiction novels ever written and one of the earliest to envision what alien life would be like and how it might interact with us.
The novel was serialized in Pearson's Magazine in the UK, and Cosmopolitan magazine on the US, in 1897. It was first published in hardback form the following year.
The story is written in an episodic, journalistic style. The unnamed narrator reports clearly on what he sees as the Martian invasion progresses: who, what, when, where and how. Yet he does not specify or reflect on why. And that is a great mystery.
The only clue we have to the Martian intentions comes in the opening paragraph: "intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this Earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us." From this fragment of intent all things seem to flow.
H.G Wells said that the story arose from a discussion with his brother about the catastrophic effect of the British prescence in Australia on indigenous Tasmanians. What would happen, he wondered, if Martians did to Britain what the British had done to the Tasmanians?
So in one way we can see War Of The Worlds as a thought-piece on colonialism, reframed as a science fiction story. But that explanation misses something...
Unlike Heart Of Darkness, War Of The Worlds provides no commentary on imperialism or exploitation. It is a straight-up adventure story, laced with dystopian themes. The cruel efficiency of advanced industrial warfare is in the foreground, not the moral horrors of colonialism.
The fear of industrial warfare was a growing theme in literature at the turn of the last century. The belief that it was inevitable, that Great Powers must fight and that war would decimate the home front, was a powerful one.
The Great War in England in 1897 by William Le Queux, and The Yellow Wave by Kenneth Mackay (both published in 1895) both labour the point: nationalism and industrialisation will lead inevitably to war on an unimaginable scale.
But again, if this is the case where is the commentary? Where is the moral heart of War Of The Worlds? Does a clue lies in Wells's own scientific beliefs, particularly around evolution...
Wells's views on eugenics are well known: he wrote about the degeneration of humanity and toyed with the ideas of social biology. What drove him to this was a belief in a technocratic future - a World Government - where nationalism, superstition and degeneracy were expunged.
So is War Of The Worlds a story of science and eugenics? Have the Martians invaded Earth because Wells believes any intelligent being would lack sympathy with primitive Humanity? The opening paragraph of the story suggests so.
But again we are confronted with the fact that the novel makes no comment on the Martian intention. Whilst it's tempting to speculate 'what Wells really means' from a study of his beliefs and the society he lived in, we must still judge the story by what it says...
...or rather from what it deliberately does not say. Wells is a careful and accurate writer and in this book he deliberately withholds saying things that he has clearly thought about. One example of this is in his description of the Martian war machines.
The war machines and the handling machines used to build them are described in great detail by Wells: levers and tentacles, but no pistons or gears. He doesn't state it, but it is clear - the Martians have no use for the wheel. Their technology is as alien as their physiology.
And this - I think - gives us a clue as to why Wells perhaps withholds the motivation of the Martians from us. It is more horrifying to do so. They are beyond our comprehension, true aliens to ourselves.
Eldritch horror concerns the otherworldly and uncanny. It is a staple of weird fiction, and the unknowable-ness of the eldritch foe is used to heighten the sense of horror as we confront it. It's a powerful technique.
Brian Aldiss believed that science fiction was characteristically cast in the Gothic or post-Gothic mode. For Aldiss Mary Shelly's Frankenstein was pivotal to the birth of sci-fi and still maintains an imprimatur on the genre. I think Wells tries to stay true to this in the book.
We never truly know why the Martians come to Earth or what they themselves think about life or war. All we see us the result. In the end we are left guessing as to the why of it. For me that's one of the reasons Wells's story stands the test of time.
What are the chances...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.
Today in pulp I look back at New Zealand's home-grow microcomputer, the 1981 Poly-1!
Press any key to continue...
The Poly-1 was developed in 1980 by two electronics engineering teachers at Wellington Polytechnic, Neil Scott and Paul Bryant, who wanted to create a computer for use in New Zealand schools. Education Minister Merv Wellington liked the idea and gave it the green light.
Backed by government finances, and in partnership with Progeni Computers, Polycorp was formed in 1980 to began work on the prototype for the official Kiwi school computer.
It was the biggest manhunt in Britain: police, the press, aeroplanes, psychics all tried to solve the disappearance. In the end nobody really knew what happened. It was a mystery without a solution.
This is the story of Agatha Christie's 11 lost days...
By 1926 Agatha Christie's reputation as a writer was starting to grow. Her sixth novel - The Murder of Roger Ackroyd - had been well-received and she and her husband Archie had recently concluded a world tour. But all was not well with the marriage.
In April 1926 Agatha Christie’s mother died. Christie was very close to her: she had been home-schooled and believed her mother was clairvoyant. The shock of her sudden death hit the author hard.
Many readers have asked me over the years what my definition of pulp is. I've thought about it a lot, and the definition I keep coming back to... well it may surprise you.
Let me try and set it out.
There are lots of definitions of pulp out there: in books, in academic papers and on the web. And most circle back to the same three points: the medium, the story type and the method of writing.
Pulp is of course a type of cheap, coarse paper stock. Its use in magazine production from the 1890s onwards led to it becoming a shorthand term for the kind of fiction found in low cost story magazines.
let's take a look at the extraordinary work of Victorian illustrator and cat lover Louis Wain!
Louis Wain was born in London in 1860. Although he is best known for his drawings of cats he started out as a Victorian press illustrator. His work is highly collectable.
Wain had a very difficult life; born with a cleft lip he was not allowed to attend school. His freelance drawing work supported his mother and sisters after his father died. Aged 23 he married his sisters' governess, Emily Richardson, 10 years his senior.
Over the years a number of people have asked me if I have a favourite pulp film. Well I do. It's this one.
This is the story of Alphaville...
Alphaville: une étrange aventure de Lemmy Caution (1965) was Jean-Luc Godard’s ninth feature film. A heady mix of spy noir, science fiction and the Nouvelle Vague at its heart is a poetic conflict between a hard-boiled secret agent and a supercomputer’s brave new world.
British writer Peter Cheyney had created the fictitious American investigator Lemmy Caution in 1936. As well as appearing in 10 novels Caution featured in over a dozen post-war French films, mostly played by singer Eddie Constantine whom Godard was keen to work with.