January 27, 2007

Book 6: The War of the Worlds

The War of the Worlds
H.G. Wells

This is the first book that I've repeated since starting up this little blog venture, and it's interesting to have it come from an English class rather than my own personal enjoyment. I'm afraid that going through lectures about the book has tainted my opinion of it, so to speak, but I still think that it's pretty good. I am kind of torn, however, about the narrator's lack of connection with the world. On the one hand, I believe that it strengthens the ability of the book to connect with readers across the plane of time. Replace the dog-cart with an automobile and some of the armaments and you've got yourself a modern thriller. This timeless quality, however, is mitigated by the fact that the narrator is detached and almost inhuman in the way he describes the death and destruction around him.

The book is engaging, but is entirely plot-driven. Wells has accomplished a strange feat in creating a very readable, entertaining book without a gripping or even interesting main character. The unnamed narrator is simply Everyman, a middle class gentleman scientist who views the world around him almost as an experiment rather than a living, breathing set of interactions. I would have liked to seen a more personal account of the Martian invasion of Earth, but perhaps such a direction wouldn't have left the book so interesting to us today; I suppose I'll have to leave that as an unknown.

One thing that became more clear to me on my second reading of the book, and which was not really influenced by my English class, was the allegorical nature of the book. Knowing what was ahead plot-wise, I was able to better distinguish the elements of the story that directly correlate to British imperialism and class impressions, which are what hold the story together. What makes Wells so compelling is his ability to create a sort of sympathy for the devil, only to make the reader realize that he or she has been had. We feel for the Brits as they face extinction, but at the same time we know that they are simply getting a taste of their own medicine. Again, this is where the detached narrator comes in handy, as his ability to reflect noncommitally on events reveals the social critique in accessible layers.

Overall, I still think that this book is a compelling read and a must for anyone interested in literature about alien invasions or satires of colonialism. Wells may have a detached and boring narrator, but he uses him to gain an advantage in this book and further make his point. After all, an emotionless British gentleman is just the sort who would approve of imperialism, and is just the sort to recognize the parallels between his world and Wells's greater construction of social critique.

Grade: A-

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