Advertisement

Herbert George Wells (1866-1946) was certainly not the first science fiction writer. Scholars quarrel endlessly over that puzzle, arguing passionately for Jules Verne (1828-1905), Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1797-1851) or even dear old Lucian of Samosata (120-180).

My grade school librarian, Florence Schultz, was a big fan of Jules. She got me to read 20,000 Leagues Beneath the Sea when I was eight years old and I've been a science fiction nut ever since. And of course Verne wins laurels as the first great gadgeteer of science fiction, what with the Nautilus of Captain Nemo, the great lunar cannon of Florida, and other lovely devices. But what Verne wrote was largely a series of travelogues-cum-hardware.

Sorry 'bout that.

The great Brian Aldiss argues for Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, whose major claim to fame is of course Frankenstein, or The New Prometheus. No arguing about the impact of that book, but what have you done for us lately, Mary? And -- on a more serious note -- Frankenstein has been co-opted by the world of Gothic horror rather than science fiction. Great as this novel is, its continuing impact is questionable at best.

Dear old Lucian, championed by that pioneering historian of science fiction J.O. Bailey, must be credited with inventing the first space-ship (even if not quite the first spaceship), the first astronauts, and the first aliens (non-human inhabitants of the sun and moon). Still, I dunno. If anything, he was the Leif Ericson of science fiction. Ericson did get here first but Columbus is the guy who counts.

Anyway, back to Brother Wells. There's no doubt in your reviewer's mind that Wells, while clearly not the inventor of science fiction, was the inventor of modern science fiction. In an astonishing burst of creativity he gave the world The Time Machine (1895), The Island of Dr. Moreau (1896), The Invisible Man (1897), and The War of the Worlds (1898). Add the coda of The First Men in the Moon (1901) and you have it -- modern science fiction, complete and perfect.

Wells was a prolific writer who worked in many genres of fiction and nonfiction over a long career, but there has never been an outpouring of brilliant and important works like Wells's flowering of 1895-1901. He gave us the first novel of time travel, the first novel of controlled mutation, the first novel of enhanced human abilities, the first novel of interplanetary warfare, and the first novel of "first contact."

Part of Wells's greatness lies in the multi-layered meanings of his works. It is hard to imagine any individual over the age of, oh, let's say twelve, reading The War of the Worlds and failing to notice that it's about British imperialism and the exploitation of native peoples. Sure, it's about the invasion of Earth by Martians, but while that reading offers us cheap thrills aplenty, that isn't what the book is really about.

It should be equally obvious that The Time Machine is not merely an adventure tale and love story about a Victorian tinkerer visiting the distant future. Okay, it is that, but underneath the adventure tale and love story there lies a bitter and furious attack on the British class system and the brutal industrial capitalism that was destructive in equal but opposite ways of both the workers and their employers.

Wells's works have inspired countless sequels, ripostes, analyses and evaluations. David Haden includes an eleven-page bibliography of these works in his book, and this barely scratches the surface.

All of which, if you'll forgive me, is by way of avoiding the main issue, the novelette which the author generously credits to "David Haden & H. G. Wells." The novelette starts nicely enough:

"The Time Traveller returned to us at some unknown hour during those traditionally restful days between Boxing Day and New Year's Eve, at the end of the year 1905. He had been away for nearly six years."

Richard A. Lupoff is a novelist, short-story writer, critic, and sometime academic. His most recent books are Visions (currently in production by Mythos Books) and Quintet: The Cases of Chase and Delacroix (Crippen & Landru). He is also the Editorial Director of Surinam Turtle Press, an imprint of Ramble House.