War of the Worlds

The most interesting and, in my mind, important thing about War of the Worlds is not its presence as a seminal work of science fiction, but why it is there in the first place. Upon first glance, this looks like any other now-overdone alien invasion story--until one glances at the publishing date and realizes that, on the contrary, the whole point of this book is that it was among the very first of its kind. Wells was not fighting the cliches of bug-eyed monsters and little green men. He was not concerned with explaining why the Martians invaded (though it is obliquely suggested that, as they somehow live off of the blood of other living organisms, that it was for reasons of sustenance), but discussing the all-consuming terror that their invasion warranted. London (and the rest of the British Isles, but this is only brought up near the end) is invaded, and the world thrown into chaos.

As Wells points out in his epilogue, "We have learned now that we cannot regard this planet as being fenced in and a secure abiding-place for Man...the broadening of men's views that has resulted can scarcely be exaggerated. Before the cylinder fell there was a general persuasion that through all the deep of space no life existed beyond the pretty surface of our minute sphere." This goes back to last week's discussion re: the merits of science fiction as a genre. Even here, even this early, before science fiction was even coined as a term, Wells is using his writing to postulate the effects of an alien invasion on a very insular human race, and suggests that it would encourage space travel and eventual colonization. Wells contends that this horrible event, an alien attack that has destroyed families, homes, and cities, is useful in drawing humanity out of its complacency and into a position of universal understanding.

Another interesting question that Wells raises (perhaps unintentionally) has to do with Worlds's treatment of religion. Both the narrator and his brother spend a considerable time in the book praying, and, when the Martians have died, the narrator comments that he "believed that the destruction of Sennacherib had been repeated, that God had repented, that the Angel of Death had slain them in the night." Sennacherib, I believe, refers to the deaths of the nearly two hundred thousand Assyrians marching toward Jerusalem during the time of the Assyrian empire; the event was considered, for all intents and purposes, a deus ex machina. These references to God and religion in the face of alien invasion raise the question: if we are created in God's image, how does the focal point of religious belief and doctrine change when the added element of life on other planets is introduced? In this case, much as in the case of the Assyrians, the Martians are brought down by the Angel of Death--in the form of terrestrial bacteria to which they have no immunity--thus affirming a very ethnocentric view of religion.