Survival of the Dominant

I just finished reading H.G. Welles The War of the Worlds. The initial premise is that the “high and mighty” planet Earth gets invaded by Martians, who come equipped with colossal war machines, deadly heat rays, and fatal black smoke. Through the course of human retaliation, martian dominion, and the sobering aftermath, the narrator (Welles does not give a name for the character) contemplates what “advancement means” and ponders whether or not humanity, for all of its superior intellect and technology, should ever have the right to rule anything. Wow! Let me just say right off the bat that Welles is a sci-fi and literary master! I never knew one could combine real science and adventure into one enjoyable tale. He instantly earns my respect as one of the greatest sci-fi writers ever, right up there with Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut. I had heard of The War of the Worlds before, but this summer, I finally had the chance to sit down and read it. I had speculated that this was the “first sci-fi” novel and that many sci-fi themes that find themselves in today’s movies, TV shows, and books originated from this novel (I had also previously just seen Ridley Scott’s Alien so it was interesting to contrast themes from that film with themes of this novel). The imagery that Welles employs is simply fantastic: most of the book is him simply describing what the narrator sees, and letting those actions speak louder than words.

The War of the Worlds is split into two sub-books entitled The Coming of the Martians (book 1) and Earth Under the Martians (book 2). The first sub-book plays out more like a post-apocalyptic sci-fi actioner with moments of human drama in between, while the second book is more thought-provoking and philosophical, as the narrator contemplates life under the omnipotent and powerful men from Mars. Though both books may be different in terms of tone, several recurring themes and ideas are present within both, and that consistency adds clarity to the novel, while the differences give each chapter a fresh feel.

The first of these recurring themes is imagery. The War of the Worlds is very rich with detail from beginning to end. Welles could not simply describe the destruction of the districts Ealing, Richmond, and Wimbledon using any simple adjective. Rather, he compares those places to a martian’s sketchbook where the martians draw with their pen of death, and cause calamity and disorder in the process. In chapter 17 of book 1, Welles writes “Over Ealing, Richmond, and Wimbledon, it would have seemed as though some monstrous pen had flung ink upon the chart. Steadily, incessantly, each blank splash grew and spread, shooting out ramifications, this way and that, now banking itself against rising ground, now pouring swiftly over a crest into a new-found valley, exactly as a gout of ink would spread itself upon blotting-paper.” The action is also very well described, with the battle between 3 alien tripods and the human warship HMS Thunder Child being a climactic and stunning end to the first book. Though Welles’ never makes any explicit comparisons, the reader cannot help but compare the warship Thunder Child to have the ramming power of a rhino, the speed of a jaguar, and the ferocity of a hippopotamus. Animal verbiage is not used, but the motions of the ship give it the aura of a living being, rather than a hunk of metal. The alien tripods are described simply as agile and sleek (almost swan-like) mechanical beasts. These are just a few of the many examples where Welles’ drops the persona of being a writer, and embodies an artistic spirit. Such descriptive vernacular paints The War of the Worlds as a grim, but also very hopeful world. For wherever the destruction of the martians is most felt and  most poignant, the beauty of human companionship and sacrifice is also evident. Welles’ strategy is a double-edged sword: both the ominous as well as the beautiful moments are personified through the highest form through the use of metaphors and similes. Whenever I was reading these contrasts, I would be reminded of Romans 5:20 which says “The law was added so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” (NIV) So wherever violence may increase, peace and human bountifulness also increased, showing the importance of human community.

Through the use of Welles’ beautiful description and imagery, Welles surprises his readers with something more thought-provoking and profound: the backwardness of humanity and challenging the definition of progress. Whenever the martians are unleashing their heat ray or black smoke, the narrator often marvels at the weapons’ power, wondering whether animals beneath humans view humans with the same awe and terror. The narrator compares humans to ants, while the martians are the new apex predators. This dominion humbles the narrator as he comes to turn with the “order of nature” and painfully accepts the fact that humans are no longer the top dogs.

While I was at Duke Youth Academy, I heard a lecture given by Dr. Anthea Portier-Young, who spoke about the creation story as a narrative, poem, art, and myth. One interesting point she said was that when God gave humanity “dominion” over the Earth, the Hebrew word dominion (radah) means “not with harshness” and not exploitative. Dominion was instead to be viewed as a custodial ethic and responsibility. When God let humanity dominate over the other species, he gave us a responsibility to use our power to help those who have less or no power. Thus, true dominion is provident and nurturing care. It is not pounding to submission and ruling with an iron fist. It was interesting to see the martians dominion over the people and for the narrator to then in turn wonder about how humans could be better rulers to the critters of the Earth after the martians left. Welles asks whether human beings attempt to enforce a skewed version of dominion over each other, or whether we act as responsible caretakers for the Earth.

But those “dominant” martians are in no way physically intimidating in comparison to the humans. The martians themselves, for all of their mechanical prowess, are simply nothing more than a brain, lungs, tentacles, a heart, and blood vessels. They had seemingly evolved and stripped off all of the unnecessary organs such as the digestive system and entrails. This image of the martians as large heads with a swath of tentacles is a stark contrast from the biologically superior images as thought of today. Even in the novel, the narrator stated in chapter 4, book 1 that “I think everyone expected to see a man emerge (from the alien cylinder)--possibly something a little unlike us terrestrial men, but in all essentials a man. I know I did. But, looking, I presently saw something stirring within the shadow: grayish billowy movements, one above another, and then two luminous disks--like eyes. Then something resembling a little grey snake, about the thickness of a walking stick, coiled up out of the writhing middle, and wriggled in the air towards me--and then another.”

A White Martian
Image credit: DC Comics

The War of the Worlds Martian
Image credit: Les Edwards

This physical aspect of the martians is quite underwhelming from what readers were probably expecting when thinking about the formidable men from mars. Welles displays a thorough understanding of the “survival of the fittest” idea from Darwin’s The Origin of Species and by having his martians scrap off the unnecessary organs and body parts, he does a backward Darwinism. To borrow a quote from the the android Ash from the film Alien,“their (the Aliens) structural perfection matched only by its hostility.” Though Ash was referring to a far more formidable creature (seen below) his quote can be applied to these martian invaders in Welles novel. I

The Xenomorph as seen in Alien vs Predator
Image credit: 20th Century Fox

In a similar way, the narrator also had the chance to learn from his comrades. During the initial invasion of the martians, the narrator befriends an artilleryman. The two get separated but after a few chapters, they join forces again. While in the company of the narrator, the artilleryman ranted about how the martians would enslave all of humanity and breed humans as pets (in the same way we do with dogs). The artilleryman the audaciously claimed that he would be the leader of a resistance that would valiantly fight against the tyranny of the martians. He then exclaimed that he only wanted hard-working and able-bodied men and woman in the resistance and would not “pick up any rubbish that drifts in” (chapter 7, book 2). In order to prepare for such a grand scheme, the narrator and the artilleryman would have to build a lengthy tunnel underground. This tunnel would serve as headquarters for the resistance. The narrator was shocked by these bold words, for he himself was quite soft-spoken, while the artilleryman spoke with such gravitas and passion. Even as a reader, I began to be drawn to the silkiness of the artilleryman’s voice and imagine the adventures the resistance would have. As a scientist, the narrator never got to experience the adrenaline of combat, nor could he have ever considered himself to be “fit enough” to survive in the world. He got a shovel and began digging away at the blood-stained Earth, fantasizing about the possibilities such an adventurous future would hold. But he was quickly disappointed when after a short period of time, the artilleryman refused to work anymore. The artilleryman instead, decided to eat mutton and drink beer. The narrator then realized the hypocrisy of the artilleryman’s words. While the narrator wished for able-bodied men and women who would be willing to work hard, he himself was not a hard worker. Superiority, then was not in the flowery sentences of powerful men but through the humble actions of timid. James 2:26 “As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead” (NIV). Thus, Welles is directly challenging what humans find “superior” and shows how even the mighty and high Goliaths, can be brought low by the small and fragile Davids. So long as those Davids have heat rays and behemoth machines in place of a rock. 

But even David and the Israelites still needed to fight more battles against the Philistines even after Goliath was defeated. In the same way, even after the aliens left the planet, humans still needed to fight for sanity and morality. During the aftermath, the narrator somberly reflects on how the people of Earth can no longer view themselves as the most superior race in the universe. Humans are not alone in the world; creatures with far more advanced weaponry can come back any time, and smite the Earth. With such a looming fear and threat, everyone is on constant alert. But with alertness, also comes new knowledge. The scientific community has blossomed. The military is attempting to replicate or reverse-engineer the martian technology. As a whole, the narrator observes how humanity has become closer. People do not fear the material things they may lose. They are all more willing to help each other, even if it may cost them. Now here is where the genius of Welles is fully realized. Yes the martians attack was brutal, merciless, barbarous, and left many people dead, but at the same time, humanity has “matured” through this experience. The narrator states that many of the world’s problems that probably would not have been addressed, are now being brought to the spotlight because of the martian attack. In some ways, the martians showed humanity what “needed fixing” and though their methods of doing so were wrong and inhumane, the aftermath is one of the most beautiful moments of the novel. 

In the comic book strip workshop at Duke Youth Academy, the instructor Charlie Baber brought up an interesting notion. He stated that while secular music artists such as Eminem and Macklemore may curse, slander, and maliciously criticize the church, what if God is using them as a way to critique something the church is doing? What if it takes an outside voice to shed light on an area where the church can be improved? Should we immediately disregard such people because they are secular? Or should we humbly take into consideration what is being said? Respectively, Welles asks his readers whether he/she thinks the martians invasion was a good wake-up call to the people of Earth, or whether it was a mindless and immature attack by an outside race. The truth is that God can use anything, from a donkey to a burning bush, to speak truth to his people. We should not immediately accept what a non-christian may say outside the church to be gospel, nor should we immediately shut out their voice. Instead, we as Christians must look to see whether their arguments are based off of scripture. By doing so, we are both listening with a critical ear while accepting their argument. 

The War of the Worlds is dark. It is bleak. It is dreary. The action and brutality is made so blatantly clear that the novel has come under fire many times for its violent content. But nonetheless, I urge all who have the chance to read this novel, to read it. Not just for the action and themes, but maybe God can speak even through a novel such as this.