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Fantasy Commentator, v. 1, issue 5, Winter 1944-1945

Page 76

76
FANTASY COMMENTATOR

Wells obviously need not have violated the insulation of his setting in order to accomplish this.

Secondly---all allegorical considerations once more aside---this new ending lacks the fundamental originality the first version possesses. Such a denoument, with its conventional satisfaction of public demand for consummation of love-interest (and a tacked-on love-interest at that), is precisely what modern hack "pulpists" would resort to. Not even the native Wellsian story-telling ability can dissipate this impression. The comparison between the shifting of conclusions here and the same in Merritt's Dwellers in the Mirage is inevitable; and in each instance the adoption of the obvious is seen to rob the work of much of its potential effectiveness.

The style of Wells' writing, however, remains unchanged; he has lost little or nothing in the third-of-a-century interim in which The Country of the Blind remained untouched. Always he remains an excellent story-teller.

And because Wells is such a good story-teller it is regrettable that he has, in later years, attempted the metamorphosis to the preacher and philosopher. He will always be remembered for the incisive and vigorous creative power that lent life to his original imaginative ideas in such fine works as The War of the Worlds and The Time Machine, as well as the "pure" fantasy of such shorter tales as "The Magic Shop" and "A Dream of Armageddon." Yet as a philosopher and a preacher Wells will probably not be remembered, because his abilities in those fields are not outstanding. We tolerate Wells the preacher because he is one with Wells the story-teller---but if some device paralleling the schizophrenic split in "Sam Small's Better Half" could effect a physical separation of the two there is no doubt which Wellsian twin we would choose.

Barring the advent of such an unlikely happening, the reader must put up with the combination. In The Country of the Blind this combination is both good and bad: good, since the story may be read and enjoyed and judged as excellent without thought or reference to the allegory which underlies it; and bad, since because of this very fact the allegory is obviously both extraneous and unnecessary. And, it may be added, ineffective: for if a reader cannot perceive easily at first reading what Wells is allegorically driving at, the author might as well have abandoned this ulterior theme to begin with.

One further comment on the 1939 version of The Country of the Blind may be appended. In the introduction quoted on the previous page Wells mentions "the tragedy of their incommunicable appreciation of life" concerning those who "see more keenly than their fellows." Yet we note in the second version that the girl Medina-sarote, who has been taken from the valley, later on realizes the existence of something beyond her senses and her conception of the world. She has learned to speak of "seeing", and uses the words of sight in a manner that shows she has some vague, empirical idea of their meaning. Yet she shrinks fearfully from the opportunity to realize their full significance that surgery offers.

This is important, for it furnishes a deeper insight into Wells' philosophy. He has always regarded Stupidity as the monarch of the world, and has always, too, held forth that transformation of the earth into a near-utopia could be accomplished if the scientist-intellectual type were in control---in fact his confidence in this cure-all has by dint of half a century's repetition become so cocksure that it is almost wearisome. And now the reader is indirectly made cognizant of what Wells considers to be the chief reason why his scheme has not as yet been tried: the people themselves fear it. Because of their stupidity they not only do not at present understand it, but they are afraid to allow themselves to be led by those who do. And thus the tragedy that visits upon The Country of the Blind is nothing less than a measure of punishment, an allegorical lashing which Wells feels the world of reality richly deserves.

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76 FANTASY COMMENTATOR Wells obviously need not have violated the insulation of his setting in order to accomplish this. Secondly---all allegorical considerations once more aside---this new ending lacks the fundamental originality the first version possesses. Such a denoument, with its conventional satisfaction of public demand for consummation of love-interest (and a tacked-on love-interest at that), is precisely what modern hack "pulpists" would resort to. Not even the native Wellsian story-telling ability can dissipate this impression. The comparison between the shifting of conclusions here and the same in Merritt's Dwellers in the Mirage is inevitable; and in each instance the adoption of the obvious is seen to rob the work of much of its potential effectiveness. The style of Wells' writing, however, remains unchanged; he has lost little or nothing in the third-of-a-century interim in which The Country of the Blind remained untouched. Always he remains an excellent story-teller. And because Wells is such a good story-teller it is regrettable that he has, in later years, attempted the metamorphosis to the preacher and philosopher. He will always be remembered for the incisive and vigorous creative power that lent life to his original imaginative ideas in such fine works as The War of the Worlds and The Time Machine, as well as the "pure" fantasy of such shorter tales as "The Magic Shop" and "A Dream of Armageddon." Yet as a philosopher and a preacher Wells will probably not be remembered, because his abilities in those fields are not outstanding. We tolerate Wells the preacher because he is one with Wells the story-teller---but if some device paralleling the schizophrenic split in "Sam Small's Better Half" could effect a physical separation of the two there is no doubt which Wellsian twin we would choose. Barring the advent of such an unlikely happening, the reader must put up with the combination. In The Country of the Blind this combination is both good and bad: good, since the story may be read and enjoyed and judged as excellent without thought or reference to the allegory which underlies it; and bad, since because of this very fact the allegory is obviously both extraneous and unnecessary. And, it may be added, ineffective: for if a reader cannot perceive easily at first reading what Wells is allegorically driving at, the author might as well have abandoned this ulterior theme to begin with. One further comment on the 1939 version of The Country of the Blind may be appended. In the introduction quoted on the previous page Wells mentions "the tragedy of their incommunicable appreciation of life" concerning those who "see more keenly than their fellows." Yet we note in the second version that the girl Medina-sarote, who has been taken from the valley, later on realizes the existence of something beyond her senses and her conception of the world. She has learned to speak of "seeing", and uses the words of sight in a manner that shows she has some vague, empirical idea of their meaning. Yet she shrinks fearfully from the opportunity to realize their full significance that surgery offers. This is important, for it furnishes a deeper insight into Wells' philosophy. He has always regarded Stupidity as the monarch of the world, and has always, too, held forth that transformation of the earth into a near-utopia could be accomplished if the scientist-intellectual type were in control---in fact his confidence in this cure-all has by dint of half a century's repetition become so cocksure that it is almost wearisome. And now the reader is indirectly made cognizant of what Wells considers to be the chief reason why his scheme has not as yet been tried: the people themselves fear it. Because of their stupidity they not only do not at present understand it, but they are afraid to allow themselves to be led by those who do. And thus the tragedy that visits upon The Country of the Blind is nothing less than a measure of punishment, an allegorical lashing which Wells feels the world of reality richly deserves.