THE DEHONOZOGY OF INSTINCT:

ALLEGCPY AND SETTING I?: II, G. HELLS'

THE ISLAND OF DR. MOKEAU

Jor. Paul Heusy

B,A. University of British Coinmbia 3374

THE5IS SUBRITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILZ?lENT OF

PfiE HEQUIREHENTS POX THE DEGREE OF

&ASTEE OF BETS

i~ the Deparlmect

or'

EngLish

@ Jon Paui Hecry 1980

SIMON FRASER UMIYERSFTY

August 1980

Ail rlyhts reserveJ. This wor# may cot be reproduced in rholr or ir par;, by ptotocopy or other Nears, without permission of the author. APP RQVAL

NAME : Jon Paul Henry

DEGREE : Master of Arts TITLE OF THESIS: The Demonology of Instinct: A1 legory and Setting in H.G. Wells' The Island of Dr. Moreau

EXAMINING COMMITTEE : Chairperson : Professor Paul Delany

Professor Mason Harris, Associate Professor

L / I Professor John Mil ls, Associate Professor

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Date Approved: PART l AL CQPYR l GHT L l CENSE

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Title of Thes i s/Project/Extended Essay

Author: I-- _ - (signature) The term "scientific romance", which H. G. Wells coined to describe his early science fiction novels con- tains within it a contradiction. It stresses science, a method of patient observation and accurate descrip- - tion; yet there is an equal stress on romance, on the magical and irrational. There is, in short, a conflict within the scientific romances between reason and emotion that is reflected in the term itself. Nor is this the single common feature among the novels. In all of thex the hero is a typical or rep- resentative man, and the settings of all the novels tend to be strange, barely aczassibls islands in time or space. Wells usps the settings to isolate either single' societias or single inC~~iduals,ususily the hero. The isiand is used both as a paradig of a social organization and as a paradigm of the essential isolation of any mem- ber of society. Moreover, Wells' ronances all tend towards satire. His technique in projecting these satires involves the creation of isolated worlds (islands) psrllel to our own. which in their completeness reflect on the shortcomings of the society contemporary with the author. The method I have chosen to elucidate these common features and to sho~tLtir inter-relationships is a

iii hero. The essential argument, therefore, is that in li~ningout a picture of his society-and Wells' pose of social critic and commentator is consistent throughout the scientilic romances-more especially in drawing a satiric, utopian or anti-utopian version of his society,

Wells is ~scessarilyinvolved in a psychological delin-- eation m.2 exploration over which he has little conscious control. TIE romances then, each tell a different version of the same stwy. In The Island of Dr. Moreau Wells' man- ipulation of the setting as an anti-utopiz (an arena) illumiliates his we 02 it, in o';her rorcames, as a utopia (an island). .'l;c;r~over,in tne Preface to the 1924 reprint of the work Wells admits to a specific ail- egorical intention, that the operations of the doctor are an allegory of the processes of evolution by which humans have be~n'rough-hewn' from out their animal origins. These are the aspects of the novel to which the title of the present essay points; setting, allegory, and Wells' image of evolution...... TABLE OF CONTENTS

Approval ...... *.ii ... Abstract ...... a~~ 1. 1~5rruduction ...... I TI. hTelisi Self-Commectary ...... 6 111. The Island L i f ...... 20 iV. ~rendickobserves the Beast Folk ...... 26 8 . Prcndick' s Eyes and Ears ...... em...,..33 VI. Prendick acd the Leopard Man ...... 45 VII. The Uccanriy Nature of Everts for Prendick and the Reader ...... e...... ~...... 54 VIf I . rloreau compared to TZhg Time &aching .....~...... 53 IX. The Character of Hontgomcry ...... b4 X. The Character of Moreau ...... 74 XI. Alfegory a~dthe Beast Polk ...... 87 XIT. allegory and a dreaming Prendick ...... 100 XI11 . The Island I: ii] ...... 115 XIV. Darwinian Evoiution in Freud acd ge2ls ...... 121 Appendix A: Savage Ancestors in gel1s ...... 133 ~ibliography...... ~...... e...... 1Ql I, Introduction

When, several years ago, I re-read 8, G, s*;r& Time

different 'hey seemed froa my first, adoiescect experience of them, Partly, I suppose, the iliffer-emx was ir; me, I was older, more critical, Yet the feclinqs f experiecced reading them

31ch ?he same, On redding others of &ells8 "scientific romancesw

{:hi3 is the ?erm he uses for them), 1 and reading carefully, critically, in order to explain to myself my reactions to the works, I formulated two related as~umptions,1% is on one of

I------*-"----_ 11 cannot trace the exact oriyic of this term, zhough Zngvald Eakzca iz his e~cyclopedic8, G, Wells qgd big c&i&ics (Bergen: Universitetsfoslaget, 1902) and 3ernard Beryoczi in his xgs ----Sarly gi E, gg&&g {Toror=to: Univ. of Toronto Press, 3951), pp. 32-3, list a possible source for the term, fro~a scientific popularizer of *he 1880's ard go's, C, H, Eiiriton, who during that time published a series of pamphlets collected under the title gcientif&g Eomacces (London: Swan S~r~censcein,1884). Thouqh there is ro evidence thdt Wells read Hinton's volume, as Bergonzi shows he had ir,deed come into contact. with at least one of its essays, 'j8hat is the fourth dimcnsio~?~The earliest use of the term by Yells bi~selfrefesixg to Eis own uosk jtkdr f have seeL) is in a letter to Arnold EeIinett (I3 August 1301), which may be found ir. Harris Wilson (Ed.) Ar~oldBerme4t and EL G, ----Wells (Urbana: Univ, of fflinois Press, 1360) , p, 60, where iie-lls says he sees he is "doomed to write iscier:tifict rontacces and short_ stories for you cseatures of the mob, and [that] my novels aust be my private dissiyationS4~Hells use of quotatioa marks here indicates that, so far as he was concerned, the term, \, was not original with him, Nevertheless, thejuxtaposition of logic an3 emotion which the term implies accords bell kith gelis description of his srate of mind while wri5ixig clie romances, OrA this see Yells, Ereface to ??hs Coung~yof filing (Londonz Nelsoc, 2. d, f l9lO-ll I), p. iv, these -hat the preserlt essay is based,

First, i seemed that all the novels were, in a sense,

psychological and secocd, thdt each of then told the same scary

from a different ~crspective, 1 imagined %he seven novels to myself as a kind of crys%l; rigidly s:rl~ctured, yet

muftifaceted, acd, turned i one's hand against a light the successive faces show, to even a casual perception, aifferelzt and changing patterns,

How are the two assuaptions related? Dealing with the second first, it can be recast as a statemeat about the formal

properties of the works, that is, that so far as his science

fictions are concerned, Bells is (like the contemporary 3obert

A, Heinlein) a formufa writer, The Lormulaic assumption may be rehtel to the assum~tionsthat the novels are psychological by

saying t5at the rndnifest similarities among the novels point *o

latent simila~ities,that along with "he formula apparent in the

surface contect there is at work a formula of e~otional

sigzhfiuaace to the au'hor, While some of these latent contec's

derive (or so it has seemed to Wells* uiographers) 2 from emotional co~flicts ic the au+.hor8s "selfH, all of the novels

self-consciously address "social questions4' of one kind or

another. Ttus i+ is possible *hat Wells in these romances

2Norman and Jeanne NacKenzie, &H GF hfgllg; & Brogg~h~[N~w York: Simon as,d Schuster, 1973) ctcipter eight, especially pp, 124-30. PublisEcd in England by Keideniield and Nickolson, 1373, sdBae paginatior,, mediates emotio~al corflicts +hat were--and pernaps still are--boAh a result and a determinant of the way in which we live our lives, In other words, Bells* cu~flictsace cot purely his ow2 2rivaca possassioss, but may equally be considered to fa13

wit hi^ the public domain,

The investigation uhich grew from this starting point hds

3icce then covered a good deaf of ground, and looks to cover a qreat deal more before any satisfactory conclusions may be draw?, I5 has become apparent that I cannot at this point present a whole interpretation of Wells* science fictions. I have chosen therefore, to present "13 pilot szudy, ap examination of ore of the novels, together with a brief overview of the reasons for the study and some tentative conclusions an the dicho%omy between nature and cul+ure in the novel ,The Islarid --of -----Doctor gzgau. The present paper may be +bought of as a description of the current state of the larger project, which,

when completed, will present in each chapter an aaalysis 05 that

feature of Wellsr paradig% nost apparent irA a particular work, I

have also embedded ir. the text a contin~i~gseries of refere~~ces

to Wclf st earlier novel, E!g !4pchi11?, i~ order to suggest

how the two stories may be viewed as differing fictiondl emhodimerts of thc same cmcerns,

First,' however, it will be necessary to limn out i~ a.

little more detail so&e of what tollows from the initial assumptions. The protagonists, for example, of all the novels, seem "o he deliberately pictured as represer~t_clri'rremembers of ------. _ - _","____- . -- - -- * - -- society, 3 and the set5r-gs themseiv~s islands - - (most often -1\ isoldted either ir, time or space) justaas deliberately imagined , oz distorted I Jells cori temporar y I social reality. If 1 hope to delimir pafadiymatic emotional or

psycholoyical conflicts wikhin the novels, the obvious avenue of

approach is through the hero who represents his society, The

choice of method for such a approack is et:ually obvious,

through the paradigmatic psychology of Freud, 4 produced rouyhiy

contemporaneously with Wells* novels atd in a related cultural

-----_------3Criti.c~have long noted the marked similarities between the au+hor Wells dcd many of his characters, the qeneral assumption ireiriq that suck a lack of itistinguishizig is evidence of slipshod 3et3ods of composi50~, Thos it is interes~ingthat exactly the opposite should ce ?ke case with Prcndick, the Time Traveller, and the cdrrator of Ti~gwag of the gorlgs, that is, that far from being scarcely disguised versiocs of %e very pasticuldr WeUs ..tb.ey-should be created as generalized, rapresentati ve characters. On autobiographical elements ic Wells see Raknem 2~ ---cit,,, and Gloria G. From, 8tTnrough the Novelist9s Looking Glassw, i3 Bernard Eiergonzi (Ed.), id, 5, Be1.15: A Coflectiog gf Crii,ical------Essm, (Englawuod Cliffs: Prentice adll j Spectrum 1, 1375), pp. 157-77, reprinted fron Kgfl,yoE Eeview 31 (1963).

432 occasion, however, notably in dedling with Frendick and the Leopard Ban, I also use Jung's version of Freudian psycholoqy.

sBy nilieu I meac in general those elements of European bourqeois liberal culture tkd? adopted and extended the scientific thought of the period, with pazticauar emphasis oc the tkought of Daswia and his popularizers, Though, unlike Freual, Wells cannot be claimed as an original scientific r,'ninker, or ds OI;~who extended Darwi~ianconcepts, be certainly adop",ed them (from HDarwi~ssBulldog1#, T, ;3. Huxley) and drdmatized, ic his romances, some of the coricepts inherent in Darwinist thi~kinq. Wells also sdtirized, in jl&gq 342 Sleeper Zhd: Freud hoped was a uciversally vnfid descsiptim was severtheless produced in a pazticular time dnd place, in a particular iztellec+,ual ltclima+-eltfand it is to that par~icular ci~eand place tha* Fells also addressed his fiction, in the cnsa of Horea'il, paralleling Wells8 story with E'reuci$s topography of +he 2syche i~ this fashio~shows that they may be used to

+!explaint7 one another, tkat their auznors shdre some commoL attitudes, or phobias, though perhaps phobid 1s too strorAg a

+-erin,

s(cotlt'd) Wakes, current Social Darwix-ist ideas, and for the ,grim, finale of g&g Time Machine he used Kefvinss calculltions on the aqe of the earth and She probable date of the sun's exticction, 3~ :his latter see Joe D, Burchfield, Lord Kelvin aid fig2 of Cdrt3 History ---+he ----- f (New York: Scie~ce Publications, 1375) , If. Wells' Self-Commectary

What did Wells himself sdy about tke prodwtion of his scientific romciuces? 9is comments are rteirhex very Rumerous rlor very detailed, Several Prefaces to reprin:ed editions of the vari~us romdxices, the Prefaces ta he icdividual volumes of 122

remarks and interviews consti?.ute almost the whole of his remarks on the subject,1 As a uhole this comme~taryis marked by 63e 113 * division of his life into two parts, tns roles really, which mdy be called the Young Wri?er, and the Haturer Prophet.

The Bature wells tended to see his science ficzions, where noz actually worthless, as at least a possible threat to his role as agitator for utopia. The work of the Yowg bells is obviously u3sympathctic to utopian hopes and so the Eider Wells subtley deni~razes it, generally commentir.q o~lyon the more obvious aspects of the novels, anatomizing their fdults without qiving dn equal analysis to their virtues, An added disingenuousness

1Tn addition to the Prefaces to the At1iinti.c Edition* VO~U~R~SI, 11, 111, acd IV see also tb.e Preface %o the om~ibusedition of the rumazces, ghg scie~:tif& Eemancea of gi g, df311s [London: Gulfa~cz, 1933). For a gore complete liszing see Raknem gg c&t, There are also some scattered comments, not all that helpful, in WZII~T-rl-L3, sxperiment hg m&o&ihgrr.&y {Eew York: HacXiliar,, 19311). ------Atlantic ------Edtion hereinafter cited as As, hl,, followed by volu~e auahes; l33~grime1i~ j-g &uto'uioq~m&&ykereinafter cr-ed as Exl ----Allt. , piige, some cases more than thirty years, Wells says himself, of re-readir-g g Time flachicrx, that he now ncan no more touch it or change it thax if it were the work of dn entirely diffcrenx person, 13e.. .finds it kdrd dnd *clevers anu youthful, And-what is zather odd, he thinks--a little upsympathetic, ~e is left doubting,,,uhcther if the Time Machire were a sufficiently prac~icablemethod of transport for such a meeting, the H. G,

ZelZs of 1894 and the H. G, veils of 1922 would get oc very wall

sdys $ha% "that young man of thirty-one is already zoo remote for me to attemp" any drastic recons%ruction of his workfl.3

The most detailed commentary closesi, in time to the act~ual prodacxion of the scientific romances is dellsi Introduction to

mannerw effecCively drowns any substantive criticism, The

I>troduction is important mainly for the f cliowing passages sc

Wells* c~mpositional method; bear in mind that most of the stories iz tne volume arc romacces of one kixid or a~other,

There was a time when life bu$LL@d witk short stories; they were always coming to the surface of my mind, a~d it is zo deliberate change of will that has thus restricted my production,.,It was my friend 3r. C, L.

-_->-----*------ZWells, A& M,, V. I, p. xxii. Hind who set the spring goirg, He urged Be to write shory. stoiies.,.and persuaded Ke by his simple a-d buoyarlt cur,vict,iox that 1 could do %hat he desired. .,I set myself to the experiment of i:ive~tis,g moving and in?eresticg things thatcould be given vividly in the littie space of eigtt or te~.. .pages, ,and for a tine I found it a very entertaining ?orsui= indeed, Mr, Hind's in3icating finger had shown that, taking almost anything as a startirig point and letting my thoughts play with it, there would presently come out of the darirr-ess, in a aanzer quite inexplicable, some absurd of vivid little incident more or less relevact to the initial nucleus. tittle men in cames would come ffoatinq out of nothinqness, ificubating the eggs of prehistoric monsters unawares; violect conflicts would break out amidst the flower-beds of suburban gardens; I would discover tha" was peericg into remote and mysterious worlds ruled by an order logical indeed but other than our common sanity. 4

As Murnan and Jeance HacKenzie have suggested in their biography of Bells, this metho4 of composition was simihar to dreaming,

"3y this meaLsu they say, "PelLs produced stories which were rich ia symuoinsm, azd dreamlike in tkeir structure, They had

"he same sudder shifts of locale and ever. viewpoint., the bizarre events errupt-iug into ?he f a~iliar,and even the inconsequential

of view, an equally noteworthy feasurc of Wellst statement is its con? radictor y assertiocs.

on the one hand $Jells prese~:t.s himself as an ex+raordinariiy sensitive and suggestible you~g mdn, He reinforces this impressio~ later ic the sawc Iztroductioc, that priorin criticism artif ical dis%inction between the anecdote acd the skort story, and +.nat

-5is dried up the sources of his story-telling,

fhe o story was Haupassazt; %he anecdote was damnable., ,Tte recessior* of enthusiasm for this compact, amusing form is closely associated in my mind with that 3iscourdging imputatio~, Oce felt hopelessly open %o a paralysing and ucacswerable charge, and one's ease and happiness ir, the garderr of one's fancies was !nore and sore narred by the dread of it, ft crept into oneqs mind, a distress as vague acd inexpugnahfe as a sed fog oz a spritg morning, and preseatly one shivered and wanted to go indsors,,,5

Even in a nor-fictmnai setting, images chardcteristic of his romances occur $0 Pefls as ~epresentativeof emorions assxiated with the creation of those romaxcs; a2 in several of the romaRces, notably Time Mackiiqa, he expresses himself ic ac imaged ~olarity, the garden invaded by dread, %be brijht ddy

Yet, on t1.e other kand (in the first extract) he ciaims thaz he "set himself to the ex~eriaep~~f i>ven&Lpq mavicg a3d iaterestinq ttinystt, impPy~nqthat the stories were created ir the same faskioc as a scientist co:istrncts aL experinen%, Wells attempzs to disown the role of ais consciousness in 'hese experiments by postulating rhe MdarknessH or f3rothinqnessfi(from which ",he %&s "bubble up to the surfaceH of r.is ~iir,ii]as dintly descried out r,evar theless objective reaiikies, 1i=.amot'3 and mysterious vorld~'~;he is merely tra~scribicg an outer scene, correspotds to the initial position often qiven to his heroes,

Likz him ttey hcqic by simply observicg xhe action, as if througk a windov--becoming ~y the sane ~oke~a window "rough

whic3 the reader observes the action--and end by aligning

ttemsaLvas uith om or another side of the inevitable conflict.

Action in the scientific romances nca~lyalways involves violent conflict, and freduently opposes men azd monsters.

The coc+radictiozs ir- ~ells*statement mdy Ge viewe3 ds a crossing of ir*tellectual and emotional puzgoses, Though I have so far only deakt with tte iatelfectual aspects 05 Wells1

romances there is no doubt that the constructed fictions have a vivia and immediate emotiu~alimpact upon the reader, The first extrac? above strongly implies that Wells * u~xpariments" were conducted on :he materials mosz accessible to him, his own emotions, and it is possible to extrude from this a further

implication, that the act of restructuriag those ater rials resulted in a species of allegorical fiction; the stories exhihi?. "an amusing possibility of the mindw. The romances

embo4y then, ir a lateet form, Wellsi efforts yo understand the

workings of his own, or rather his heroes* min3,

In dff the romances, madness is a 3ar~garthe hero must face

and sometimes, as in &zeau, Bus; stiffer, The allegory in aeils*,

rommces is LO? so much irb their usciez?ificli content, which is ds in the cor.flict itself. The kero carnot avoid internalizing

this confiicrr yet still struggles Co keep it external TO his

"selfit, This applies especially to Boreau, "ough because it Is

wri+ten, like most cf the sciectific ronances, in the first

person, Prendick9s st,r:~gyleis sometimes difEicult to see.

T3 rhe ecd of elucidating the allegory f have regarded it

as not primarily or nterefy a poe",c tool (*fpi>eticlTin th~scase

i~cfudingprose withir its purview) but as esse~tially an

intellactaal tool, a way of thir?kin'ig racher than a variety of

perceptual expesience, I have regarded it too, not as ac

essentially denotative Eosm, imparting an explicitly didactive

"messagen, butmore as a connotative mode, in this particufdr case as a psychonachia, Phile the first type imports meanizg ia ..-he - form of a goal (a heavenly cizy, for exam;3le), the seccand

seeks meaning within a process, If both deal with the life of

the aind, the firs? tells the reader what portlons of thaz mind

to exalt or discard, the second only inquires as to the relative

strezgths of those portions, As a @ode of writing allegory

demands reflection, order arad clarity, qualities that none have

dauhted Wellss scienTific educatioa and jour~alistic experience

served to heighten. Moreover, ?hose who in *he past have used

alleqory (Dante, Spenscr, Bunyan) have beer, only scsn,lari1y

writers ar:d primarily tilickcrs and men of affairs. Exactly so,

woul4 I characterize Yells. Hirs characters tend to become . represe3tdtivc types and his situatiors te~dtowards ideological

-A\ demonstratiocs. His fiction, in o+br wor3s, no matter how ------. superficially fa~tastic,insists on a strong ccrinection to the

'"real1' wosfd of the reader, His tales are +he servants of ideas,

sacrificed more and more ofter4 the poetry 5s the ideas, gelds became a much more public figure, ful3lnaticg agaicst contemporary evils in his novels, through the ddily press acd through his brief but spectacular memberstip in the Fabian

Society. But as i?. iJarren Wagar has noted, in his gt i;, Ve11s

d sr~d2hg gggld Statg, @ellsfailed signally as a prophet, ahd had his greatest success as a writer of scie~cefictions,' As such he is stiff vary much wcurrent" acd ~arketabie, the romances still feelizqly expressing the co~trddictory states uf mind induced in us aii by havi~qto live ir, a worLd in thrall i,o mechanistic uef icitions of itself.

Hopefully, by pointing out tke contrariety of Uellsr attitudes I do riot need to befabour +he obvious psychologrcal constsuctions tkat may be put or his words, The scientific romances are ysycholoqical novels r that they transcribe, filtered through 8ePls3 historicdi, class, and personal backgrounds, states ot conflict within therr heroes by

7W. Barren Vagar, 8: G, &ells &~a&& Worhi Skate {Men Baveii: Yale Univ. Press, 1961) , py, 245-59, '*The Prophet as failureft, See also entries under "'deilsWi3 any Books In,Print; they are nearly all either scier~ccfictions, or social comedies, ie, --Ki~gs, My, Poll$, ex, elements of %he con•’licts, hke the persmae of allegories, are

Rut free only 'o the extect that the auc_i;or docis LO+_ use them

imposition of just such a frdmework thd?zob~the later chapters of Vclls* (1908) Thg j4p~LIJ 2.g of much of their interest; the narrdtive ebcs acd is perfunctorily closed off, and long passages of sociological specuPatior- are inserted to locate the

+ale in its *4historicalusettiry.

Was Wells himself aware of any possible psychological i2+erpre+asios.s of his wosks? There is little evidence on this point one way or the other but 1 doubt very strocgly that he was. Later, it is true, Re seexis to irave familiarized himself, if nut with tte dctual works of Freud acd Juxg, then at least with the outlines of their theories. He even goes so far, i~ his Experimens-- iz Alobioqgcauhy [l'33@), as zo elaborate on his awn (Junqian) EgrSonae and their relations :o his life asd work.8 In the sdme book, speaking of his adolescent growing sexaal

?warmess, he is dt pains to reject Freud8s theories on what can oaly be called racist jsourds,9 JCri the first extzact-, above too, :he way i!: which he speaqs of the shorz story wrizing period of his life, as if he found zhe whole business a little beyocd him ard slightly bewil3eri3gV suqgests that the sources of his creativity still remained largely hidden from him. There is EO rzal evidence in the ------hutobiogreahy either, that Wells ever u~dertookan analysis of his cwn enotio~s, though he continuously redppraised his intellectual &ositions,

ay persocal reasons for undertakisy this study aay, I think, be germane to it; they are easy to enriunerate, and they can be used to introduce sofie ii~alremarks on the figure of zhe later Wells, f have been since the age of eight years a reader

(though never a "fanfi) of sciecce ficzion. I coae from a class nackqround very similar to Wells*, acd too, from the same part of England--East Sussex adKezt. Some of Wellst most beautiful

(and for me most evocative) passages are his descxiptions of tke sweltericg summer cou~tryside, of sceres that were not much different in tEe middle 195Q9s tha~they were in the late

18 308s, The dialect of Keflsf villagers is essenriaf ly siatilar to thatwhich I grew up speaking and hearicy )ti1 my later x.hooling ckdageii to:h ay eyes and my ears, Vhen I happened or.

%he word "sawzey9*, for instarice, ic Wellst Thg 'Jon~Jerfg& Vise', it stared back at me •’rum the page, prompting a sharp jolt of, re~oqnition,for T donit know how many times my wiser elders called me a ftsawney yucgunt*. There have he~ln~oments too, ~hec

?ursuLng my enquiries I have war-dered about my own less accessible motnvatior-s. The choice of a suuject of study and the aethol sf approach surely implicates the student. If my claims have any vvalioity (I have thought) then ir unr3ve2ling ",e coriflicts of @ells and kis fictional creations I am in a sense azso u~ravellicgscme of the fictions and conf;iczs I (and perhaps many others) involve ourse'ftres in,

For macy reasons then I have beer= and still am attracted to

%ells* books, and specially to his scien~efictions, evex 5Bouqh a more detailed reading in his life acd times and other writings has eroded somewhat my tendency to venerate him simply because of his unique status in the field of science fiction.

Irideed, building from this last, some science fiction readers ilave e~courayedor.@ another to take Wells' narrative pose of Olympian detatchment and kis pzophetic stance at face value, 10 A; fox his ~rophecies,+he acme of this teade~cy is found in his mind As g& E?d of &Ls Tether, and in a note

fizscrted when it was reps-inted in 1944) added to the Preface of

------._-*----- loRy this I mean simply his tendency to write often as if looking d~wnfrom a great height on "he actions he describes, Che classic position of the tlscient-,if icu observe-" ! believing himself tlninvolved ir. thvse actions. This stance IS best seen in Wells' ---The ---War &z hi2 (London: Georqe bell, 1308), f001s. 'ill

Yet my szudies of well^ have served to inter-sify my sease of 5Lm as z& sciecce fit-io~ writer, for the more such works T read the :lore cocvinced f have become ?ha+ in the years Wells was writing his scierce fictions (1894-1901) he produced a virtuai comperdium of tke themes which, until juite recently, other writer; ir +he field have rather succeeded in elaborating than in surpassing, Even the "New WaveM writers of +be late

1360's are in their satire and social criticisi~no less than in their inagica?ive fervour, often anticipated by bells, 3n the opposite zide of science fiction (ideologically speaking) such a co'fisarvative writer as the late C, S, Lewis expresses admiration for weiisO science fictions and speaks of rcadhg them with

Lewis with evident relish caricatures the Prophet Wells as the ------_-_------llnefls, jiar &I?the Air (Harmoadsworth: Pengui-f,, 1941, 39671. The complete contexk of the passage is We1 Ist reprinting here the Preface to the Collins (1921) edition of the mvef, where he says, ir part, "Is there cothi~yto add,, ,? Ho~hingexcept my epitaph, That, when 'the time comes, will mdnifcstly have to be: *I told you so; you damned fools.* [The italics are sine,)"

12C, S, Lewis, "OC Science Fictionw, from his of zthgg &or&& (He# Yosk: Harcourt, Brace, Uorld,, 19671, edited by Uaftes: Hooper. Essay repristed iri Mo Rose (Ed,), Zciezcg Fiction; 4 GellectSgg gf Critical Essays (Englewood Cliffs: Pfenzice Hall Spectru~j, 1976) , p~,103-35. hollow, babbling 'owl of demonic forces.

The implicit distinction made by Lewis corresponds to that made betwrze~ the earlier and the iater baefls. The two alrrlosz mutually exclusive figures of Gefls tka3~cwi.spresents, likirg on6 and as heartily disliking the other, r;;.dy dlmost be snid tu be embie~s for attitudes towards the future; it will be horrible, bu~no, ituill be exhilarating, Tkss interpretive possihlliiy is open io Lewis because the two Wellses were first ide~zified by aefls himself and linked to 'wo sets of writings,

'he generally pessimistic and poetic romances dnd the generally optimistic and intellectual utopias. l3 In fact, however, the cleavage is pot nearly so sharp as this kind of manipulati~r~of emblematic figures suggests; the first Wells blends insensibly into :he second. In the Later books, for example, though there is a gradual subordinazion of the projected fantasy to a projected f8actualityH there is no sudden choking off of the brilliant imgination that had illuminated the worlds of the earlier works, a*

"I3uut as I hope later to be able to shou, even ehe romzces have s+rong3.y utopian tendencies.

IGEoqer BoweE, i~ b-is "Exgerinerts ic Statemenzw {Simon Fraser Univ,, unpubfished thesis, 3968), chose to examine fron among Wells9 wozks, not only Moreau, but also ghg Croquef Player (3 336) , and fig, Sle+,t:s@orhty or, Raaipole &gland (1 328) ; Ifin this , respectn he says, "ithe last two texts--largely igmred by commentators--are deliberately put before the reader for fresh consideration as evidence that Weiis4 crcazive spiri+ did not necessarily die or, dates specified by ~ormdtivecritics1* jii) , f agree with Mr. Eowen, though with an ir.creasing sense of Pohert 8. Philmus, in his theoretical book oc aciep-ce fictioz,

to 2rivate myths, 1s kells himself believed that he had made exaccy "he ocposite trazsit, from persdnaf fa~tasies to objective, or necessary dreans, even though it is cledr thac :he projected actuality of the iater utopias is ultima-ely rio less

In a profound sense, Wellsi sociology (like Mis evolgtionary t heoryf was imaginative as in imporca~t respects his imagination was sociological, To adduce ocly oce exanpie, in

au'ion--the future and the present--arc partially social and scffcx? upor oze aaother as mirrors gfdce3 on either side of zhe

15Robert M, Philmus, Lp- The U~iknow~~The EvoIuf,ion of Sziencg ------Fiction ----f rani ------Francis ------Goodwin Q !I, 5; Fells (Berkeley: Univ, of Califorria Press, IgTO), pp, 31-6. Philmus develops this distinc+ion by co~trastinythe works of Heils to those of Vezce. Mells' myths, he says, beginirj as ?rivate, in the course of composition became public by "displacirg and,, .coi~imentrng upon the his'.orical condition of ma." (33)s*~erne3svision, au the JPq contrary, is exclusive and private, "ac in~rovcrtedversion of illan seeking self-enclosure?* (34). The trouble with the distinctioc is that both tendencies may be fould in the works of both men; each writer tends to inciude the opposite *pusitio~* with his own, Phifmue includes a quotation from Roland Barthes4 article or, Verne (ic PlythoLoqjg~, English edition, p, 90) which describes, with uxa?-ny precisio~~,the position ot Wellst Tiae Traveller, Phiiaus* concepts of private aad public myths, acd of, the ways in which these two can interact, is thus subject to significant distortion, azd he offers "he reaJcr no way of maintaining dt all times a clear distinction between the two kicds of myth. %ys?erZoa~Ti~e Traveller, who is deepiy implicated in tne proces.ses he "uu jectively~~observes i these mirrors, Bozh modes, tte sociological a~dthe imagimtive, dze descriptive, i~

acd fears, ar.d &a" hodes tend +o be apocalyptic, Veils* socioiogicai and prophetic novels aze by no means severed cleanly fro@ their roots in his earlier sciaatif ic romazces.

Thouqh "objectivity" dominates these later covels almost to the poink of becoming their entire subject matees, and the logical sleight-of-hand practised earlier is discarded in favanr of a rnore "realtf method, at bottom the works are af~still emotional.

responses to felt situations, no matter how gaily decked out tbhesc responses may be in sociological ~atiunalizations, The ti~le or SUSL~E Sor,tag's lncisive article on science fiction

films applies forcefully to the forms uf %ells1 imagination for his kruf y was an fiimayinatio~!of disasterH.16 111, The Island [ij

The particular disaster Hells deals with in !&g -land uf illi i?b?Iggg is experienced by a sir-gle i~dividuai, Pduard

Prendick, +he narrator of the novel. Yet through Prendick's inability to escape the horrors kc experiences on Horeau8s island, Wells widens the scope of the disaster. .The condition of *- the Beast Palk on the island is thus recreated as an alle~joryof -. thk condition 02 ali humans in society. As a setting, however, the island itself embodies meaning, acd +his may most easily be approached by a brief exdminatior. of x& Macnine. In this earlier wvel Fells 00th fragments ar,d cefitraiizes the characters. 32 tke one haxd the Eorlocks and the Eloi represent

{iiivergent) aspects of a culture, but on the other, riot only arq the characters in a sense versiocs of one anoxher, hut all also revolve about that culture, which is considered as a controlling au'hority, def ininq their possible interactions, The fragmentatioc of the characters is of equal importance with their redistribution over a landscape that mimics theif acrophicd aspects, The Horlocks are associated with an underw3rld, the Eloi witb a garden, Together, these elemeats may be thouqh-of as aa islacd. Indeed, in the fourth drdft of ---....Time ------Machine, one of the framing characzers calls the world of the future "a little islard hn time acd a littie island ic

3pace,..out of all the oceans of space, dad d few zhousands of years of etcr~ity,*'I The settings o-fi tv'ellse scientific roma.?ces aay ir? most cases ce defined as ''a liytle island in tiae or spaceH, or both,' which acts to isolate the hero from his own ncedl" society.

Cne of t5e ~eaningsof the islacd then, is that it may be considered a sigr, 02 zhe romance herv4s alienation. Culture alienates him from a "naturalH state, acd his sense of %his incompleteness will rot allow him to whole-heartedly participate in the culture. kfhether the hero desires unification with his specific culture is a separate question, though I should note that in his science fiction, and in his novels written ir+ the early years of the present century, $?oPly, ~onogpzgpy,

------ZH. G. Wells, &ationa& Observe~text of The Tim Hachine, in Robert M, Philmus and David Y, Hughes (Eds,ff, G, @ells: Earn ------gritin= 1, Science 2nd science Ekct.io2 [Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 19751, p, 89. Reprisked Zro~Bat5onal Observx, n.s, 32, 23 June, 7834, pp, 1Q5-6, This invalua5le source will kereinafter be cited as, Hells, name of article, Philmus and Hughes {Eds,), page, origical source,

2Uellsq Tkg gpy of ghs Hprlds appears to suovert this assertion but a mome~t*sreflection will establish that in fact it does , not. In "e most literal sense, the Hislan9'* of that zovel is England, which is described consiszeatly as a kind of garden. @ellsdraws a distinct paralie1 too, between 9zgland and Tasmania, another island victim of colonial a~bitions, gefls has his heroes emphatically teject. their +ies to societyp3

fl? his later writicgs Wells shltts from romance to utopia

so thar instead of represe~~tinga society of one isolated -.~n~5FvF~dual, as in E~reau, --tte islazd co~est~ szard for oce isolated society, With this change comes d shift. In the variety

and direction of alienation, d ckange partly imposed by the

formal limits within which Wells chose to work. The alieaation

is still presect, but suyerficially much subdued, as a projected

future society itself assumes heroic prop or ti or.^, conferring in

turn a Pike status oc its interchangeable ci?izen units, In

place of the hero exiled from his culture Wells shows a utopian

society Idtent within our own, but exiled from it, fn a reversal

of 'he usuai science fiction situation, where the present is a

haven from a threatening otherworld, in Wells the present %as

paradoxically been marooned fro@ its own best future,

By r$xetorically dissufvinq the i~dividual into his

corporate envelope the problew of alienation is by-passed. But

it is not resolved, The zepseseatative of the present remains an

out sidsr absolutely, Because of this separatio~, irony must he sacrificed, for no other interaction other than absolute

credence is possible between utopians and outsiders. Ambiguity

renounced for contrast, the validity of the commentary on each side is siqnificaatly impaired, The utopian is csmpkecely a, one with his or her society, the outsider completely at odds with his. Neither side is capable of carryi~g~onvictior~,

Po: +he outsider, alienatior, exists in a much more aca:e form than far the alienated heroes of the romances, no preseat resolution of aliesation being dee~edlikeiy acd, therefore, co heroic action being admissible; alienation becomes paralysis,

The outsider, a framing character, is necessarily the sole avenue of idcntifica%ion for Wells* readers and thus they too can only invisibly view the utopians and thsir happiness, cdn

3ever participate in it. This splitting off of the future from t5e present clearly cannot resolve the problem of alienatioc.

Attempticg witko3~thope to become the future, the present exists merely as a conxsadiction of that cycosore, The intensive utopia mus; be located in a3 extensive contemporary frame, but because of this it requires ar. almost naqical act to brndge the chasm that lies between tbem; or at least, intervention by powers outside the scope 02 human undesstanding, warps in time, superca'arak comets, or the release of thz ~estiaiqualities ia humans, %hese triggering Arnageddon, the frequent prelude zo the establishment of the Weilsian utopia, The sojourner fi~ds, instea3 of an arena, a true islard, a good place instead of {as in the romances) ac evil one; but he still remains ar. outcast, a, wdnderer and d stranger in d strange land, The utopian tale thus serves o~fyone of Wellsq purposes well, atLi that is to emphasize+he seriousress of co~temporarysocial problems for his readers, which, past a certaic poict {in the 1330's) they rejected, becduse of the tales* failure bozh as tales and as

-racts, O~adorredmozal outrage is scldo~convincing, especially when its ostecsi ble ame1ioratir:g objec+., 4 he fu+ure, rernains perpetually ouz of our reach, One feels when reading the reviews of these later works, moreover, that in even so skort a time as a life lived--&or+ for #ells, that is, who characteristically thougft in tesms of aeons--a~ irony had been worked on Wells; his 3qfature4*was now very much vu, his resders had heard it all before, is was arLcient history.

Whec, after his return to his preseJt, the Time Traveller rcsolvcC to continue his journeying, he may have ueen prompted by his realizatlor that he was at the last out of step with his cuI:ure, He tells his peers a T1parat;he'i of its prablenatic nature, "Take it as a liet4he says, ##--ora prophecy, Say X drcame33 it i~ the workshop, Consider I have bee^ specula~ing npon the destinies of our race, until I have hatched this fictior*. Treat my assertion of its truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest."* They reject his furmuiazion as a lie,

------_------4M. G. Wellsl x'g +'j!L!g ,Machine, in E, P. Dfeifer (Ed.), Thrm grwhgfie Scierxf Phctim Move15 qf H. g, gelhs (New York: !lover, 7 960) , pp. 331-2. 31eiler8s is current3.y the most comple" etext of g& Tlme Bachine available, It reproduces the Eeinemann tex-t {first London edition, 16'35) and incofposates the fllos~~episode from rhe !iiw aeview text. tine, ?or Ere~~dick,the hero of L&s he&&rggf Dc* Momau, oo such resolutia is pcssible, for though his adventures occur: in an arena distaEt from the "realv socicty, they nevertheless occnr ir real ti~e,acd to 'ha4 society :he ?Lero, if indeed he ever lef? it, must return, ZV, Prendick observes %he Beast Folk

An analysis of ckaracterization iz glig Z~JB~Hachine reveals a clear polarization in the cer.zral cdrrative of racial characters edch associated with specific physical locations, the

Morloc%s witk the underworld, the Eloi with the upper world.

Beast Folk and the humdns, acd once again, a symbnotic + relationship is postulated Cetueec the two, But to leave the

-_Y7 description i this state is to gloss over difficulties the comparison preseEts, for there is not immediately apparent in

Horeau so clear a polarization as there is in $?~g Time Machirig.

Nor are thcre other extant versio2s of the text to help give the icvestigation aK icitial direction, though the novel went

"ruug!~ at least two drafts, 1 The only textual variants are those introduced in the Atlantic text of 1322, acd these are mostly uaimportant. 2

_------I------ILetter froin Wells to A. T. Simmons (Feb.-flar,, 1895) quoted in Geoffrey Best, 4, G* Wdis (New York: Norton, l93O), g. 37. "1 began the begga~again from the first page and set him up quite different and much better. Since then I've hacked him dbout a qood deal, He4s far from ship-shape yet," Wells seems to be jocularly descrihir'y his vivisection of thc text, zThe riiajor textual variact is the dropping of the flfntraductionH to the MS urittec by Prendick9s nephew, and *he effect of this excisioc is only to deprive +,he reader of the loca~ionof Noble's Hslasd, and the k~~owledgeof Prendick s death, Ai~kouyh,he Beast Folk are Fdhellcd iradivirtua'lly merely as ------(for instacc-e) the Leopard #an, the Hyena-Swine, Ocelot Hiin or

t------I---- SwiaeMen, ndmed that is by species in precisely the same ------.__- - - faski02 as the characters i@ the Era21c tale of ZWig Time k&ck&&g

+I_-_-_ are ide~tifiedwy their occupations, their narrative f unctio3 in

The fslp~api Gr. Hosea1 seems to be quite different, They share the island with She --humans and with them share two importat and related traits, bei~g capable of reason, or capa~le of \ ------.- bestiality, In fact cne of the Beast People has a Kame, i!lqLinq, -- i------and -aczs tkroughout the ~ovehas not essentially different than

+-_--C---C------the mohly human characters, Precdick, Efontqomery ard * Moreauy ident if ying himself with these, &*Ling eventually aies

?-----.--- ?-----.--- with - them, The Chimess af the characterization of the u professionals in J'ks TLW Hachgqe is not manifest in quite the same fashion in Mulepu. The Seast Folk, besides in some cases shovicg the rudimectdry character necessary for dramatic intczactions with the humacs, possess as well a strange kind of selfness, which, though difficult to define, is closely refated to their sometime human characteristics,

It was a kicd of qlade nlade in the forest by a fall... Before me, srua%iny together upox the fungoid ruins of a huge fallen tree, and still unauare of my approach, @ere three grotesque humax figures. One was evidently a female, The other two were men, They were naked, save for swathinqs of scarlet cloth about "heis middles, and +heir skins were of a dull pinkist arab coloar, such as I had seen in no savages before. They had fat heavy chinless faces, retreatir~gforeheads, and scant bristly hair upon their heads., . They were tal~iny,or a' ledst one af the other men gas "alking to the other two, and all rhrec had been too closely interested to heed the rustling of my approach,,,Tke speaker's words came thick and sloppy, ~koughI could nct distinguish what he said3

As Pr~adick continues to observe *he gicberin,j and dancicq of these wusual savdqes, he suddenly perceives

clearly for the first time what i4 was tha: had offended me, what had given me the two icconsisten+, and conff ictiny impressions of utter straageress and yet of the strdngesz familiarity, The 'hree creatures engaged iii this mysterious rite were human in shape, and yet human beings with the stranges5 air about them of some familiar animal (46).

Though notas strong, the disgust Pi-endicir feels recalls

Gullivcrqs distaste for "he Yahoos, Pser4ick rejects any -___I_ sympathy with the pathetic Beast Folk, choosiag to remain in

_I/ -- ?%is Pastance an uaseen observer. "I turned as zaiselessfy as ------posslra~e, and oecomi~gevery now dr,d %kc rigia with the fear sf beirA:,ydiscoverea as a branch cracked of a leaf rusrled, I pushed Ua~kthe bushesH 147) . Clearly, an as ye':- unarticulated bond yokes humans- and Beast Polk together, Yet the reader*^ observer, Precdic~, /- --z ___I__ -- persists in regarding ",he Beasr Polk as, for the most part, mere animals, and otherwise only as mor.sters, potential dangers to his security. At several points P~endickis forced to coccede

--.-

3 f dm usicy the text of the first editior~of Wells* Islad pf pr, Hortau, Fn a paperback korm (London: Par., 7975, reprinted, from Heinemann, 7836), p. 46* All fustker references to the nosel will ue by page number, within the body of the essay, I have choser. the Far' paperback because it is wideiy dvai;a~le and the human-ness of the Beast Folk, as fos instance when 2 says

'hat, he ever before saw an animal. try to .Chinkg* (751, but not qntil he is alone with them on tke island ill he grant the@ an a ST~?USwith himself, acd that uzwi?liagly, Since Be still will not- allob them humar, status, this means that he - - -, himself to the level of aninal, After his rescue Prendick says

\ that he *#may Rave caught something of the natural wildness of my

Iu his refusal to allou his knowledge to dilute his e~otioriafpreferences he is very like the Time Traveller, IY; his

%ore 0Lviou3 personal disintegration, however, he more chosely resembles Gulliver, endieg like him in a conditio~ close to insanity;4 and as ir Swift's Travels, the reader must fixally

funless aiready suf ferlr,g uxder si~ilarcor,d~tior,s) separate himself from the tale*s speaking voice, dezach himself froa that insanity. The reader's rejection of Prendick parallels

Prendickfs rejection of his fellow-mea, and for similar reasuus,

Prendick rejects the beastliness of his fellows, which he +- . unreasonaui y persists in perceiving gleaming though their human disqusises, ------f look abouC me at my fellow men. Arid I go in fear, I "Wells Fells notes his indebtedness to Swift ir, the ArtL Ed, Preface (V, 11) to Moreas, where he says '*?he influence of Swift is very apparent in itM(ix); and in the Preface to Seven fS_auious, -----Novels he says of his first three scientific romacces that they are itall., ,cor-sciously grim, under the i~fluenceof Suif t*s traditiontf (fix]. see faces keec a~dbrigkt, others dull or ilangerouz,, .l but note that have +..tic calm authority oof a redsocable soul. I feel as thouqh ?he dnimdl was suryinq up througt them; that prese~tly -he degradation of the Islanders vilf be played over again on a larqer scale, I know this is ar, illusioc, that these seeming men and womeR are icdeed me2 and womer, men acd women forever, perfsc+ly reasoraQle creatures, f ull df desires and tender solicitude, emancipated from instinct.,.Yet f strink froiz them, from their curious glances, their inquiries am3 assistance, and long to be aady from them and alone 1 IUO) .s

Precdick's refusal to be reasozakle, his refusal +o see ifseemiiig me11 and women [as] indeed men and womenn is itself, so far as those others are concerned, a type of beastliness, "Unnatural ds it seems," he says, "with my raturc to mackind came, instead of that confidence and sympathy I had expected, a stra&~ge enhancemest of the anxiety and dread I had experienced during my s+ay on the island. No 0r.e would believe me, I was alraost as

quaer to inen as I Sad beel? to the Eeast PeopleH {IQO). #hen the reader rejects Prendick's vision of kis fellow ci~izensds li~e

the Beast Folk, this places the reader in the saae positioa as those men arid women, and in the same position as the Beas5 Folk.

The difficuf*,y in showing the strazge selfness of the Beast Fd.k

results from the limitations imposed upon the Cale by the use of

a firs?-per~on narrator, Until the dezouement the reader aust

larqcly share Prendick*s assessments of the 3east Folk, and only

later, if at all, revaluate their relative humanity or lack of

SCom2are GulliyePs Travc3s, Book 4, chapters XI axd XII, with ------Woreau, chspter 22, *The Ban Alonett. it, The reader is still free, like Preudick {or evert. the auth:arf to refuse a recognition of the humanity of the Beast Folk, which of 3ecessFty would involve a recoynitioc of his own animality.

Rut 41e possihili+y everth he less cxists, and it exixs for

Precdick early 13 the novel,

Indeed, this process of a simoltaaeous recognition of the hgmnity of the Beast Folk and a refusal to concede them this status, is at the bottom of PrrndickJs cor~fusion about what

Mareau is actually doicg, He suspects fin fact the exact opposite of the truth) thax Moreau is releasing tne hestial in

--- _x_------mer! rather thar: tapping a Ziu~~dnityin the beasts (72-3) . Afraid ____I__ - for himself, Preodick panics, is bunted down like an aniaal, but cvcn'ully is cucvinced of the truth. Though Prenciick still disapproves of IYIoreau's project, it hecones, for the time b-cin,~, a little more acceptaule to his feelings, RP later discovers, ho~ever, that it makes no difference whict way Boreauis knife cuts*

Ti;ronghout the novel then, Prendick att,empr,s to articulate .- - a polarity he perceives betweerL hgmans and Beast Folk, treati~~y ------"he latrcr as mere anirna&s. From his own observations thoagh, it ---- scams "hat the opposition, the polarity, is rather to be located betvecn those characteristics tkat are essentially human ar?d those that constitute what Prendick calls "a s~inishtdint, che, urimi.;taKeabie @ark of the beastff (45). The fdlseness of

Prenlickfs dichotomy is finally shows at the riovei's end, when his o s~lfr~ess,arid that of tis llEellowsff becomes ds problematic as that of the Beast Folk. Y, Prendickgs Eyes arid Ears

T5rongh Erecdicks*s particular self-assertions, and more qe~2za7',,g through the ~resen+atio~~of i~oises, usually rdoises breaking i:i ox his at+em2*s to understand %hat is going oa arowd him, the romance emphasizes sound over sight, To pay attentioz, therefore, only to tCe szro~gly imaged portions of the book, which are of ter pauses or breaks in the flow of the nctiur,, is misieadieg. The novel, like all J4el.l.sj scieztific romaaces, does have some inte~sclyvisual scenes, but in mazy case; in !&reau the more vivid descriptions--with a class of excep+ions--are presented iE a way that suggests to me, at any

--ate, the takisg 32 a breath of air after one has bee& confined in "he narrative for a long while, Alternatively, they are also nsed to yet off small sections of the landscdpa which catch

PrenAick4s eye whilst he maneuvers to and from more irnpor%art business, 12 cha2ter nine, for ins-ance, driven out of doors by

%he cries of the vivisected puma and "scarcely heeding whitherw he goes, Pzendick ~uickly Bas his first eccognter uith :he renegade Leoyard Man, Ic hetween these two events, however, he rests momentdrily in a leafy shade, #'The piace was a paeasant one, Tbe rivulet was hidden by the luxuriant vegetation of the banks, save at oae pcint, nkere f caught a trianqular pa%ch of its qlitterinq water, 01: the farther siiie T saw, throt~qh a bluish hsze, a tangle of trees and creepers, and above these again, the luminous blue of the sky, Here and there a splash of hi. or crimson marked the Siooming of sone trailing apiphyre,

T: iet ray eyes wander over the scefie awhilesP (43),

The very infrequency of such passages, for they are a small portion in the tvtai of fhe work, and their shortness, generally only one or two paragraphs, implies that Prendick too thinks of them as breaks from his real coccerns a~dperhaps coo as necessdry to the readersg conviction of the rationality of his memoir, 1 Interestingly, it is to suck outer scenes that Prendrck

"rms upon his recall to civilization when he can no longer suppart human company. **Isee few stracyessM, he says, 84and have but a smxll househoid, Ry days 1 aevote to reading and to experiments in ckemistry, and f spend many of the clear nigh~s in the study of as?roonomy. There is, though 1 do not know how there is or why there is, a sezse of infinire peace in the qlittering hosts of heavec, There it must be, I think, in the

vast astd eter~allaws of matter, and pot in ",he ddily cares arid

------_--I-*-- lThc s?ructure of chapter nine reflects this use of brief visual descriptions as transitions or bridges between more important chunks of narrative, A survey of individual pacayraphs shows 33 devoiel 50 actiors, acd ociy 7 devoted to descriptions, these latter being disposed into four links betweec six actions, Three, of thp brijges are ore paragraph long, ore is four pardgraphs 10~7~two of zhe actions abut directly. I should note that the forty parL~gzaihs,with •’ow exceptions, dre of K-early uciform length, trotlhles of lner,, that whateves is niore thar, anitnal within us

~ustfir.d its solace and hope" ( 41-. Notice how quic~3.y Prenjick moves from particular staeements to general; in the

'.~rlns of ++eApe Em, Prexdick is rcjecei!:g 1 thi~ks*~,

"):he sarte everyday irterests of lifeH (132) , for elusive $*big

'hicks", metaphysics, or as Prendick pejora5vvely terms it,

"gabble about caws that meant nothing".

For Wellsq purposes, another function of these passages

sujges?s itself. They provide him witk opportunities for

occasional, highly effective contrasts, in that they presert

thinqs familiar to the reader--usually natural scenes and

events--juxtaposed with things bizarre asd unfamiliar, suck as

ixhc several h.unsf~. They also constitute an implicit thouqh

submerged claim that yes, such tkicqs (as the events of the

narrative) are indeed possible ir. Wature, a claim Plo~eau himself

reinforces: *'The study of Mature makes a mar at last as

remorseless as MatureJ3 (8 1) , The Nature Moseau envisions is,

like himscff, cruel arid bound up in laws which have nothi~gto

do with human wishes and desires, the very antithesis of the

more commonpiace notion of Nature as the provider of beautiful

scenes and moral truths. The contrast then, is the vehicle of

what Bernard ~ergorzi has called Wellsq desire kogpter &g ---bourqeois, One might aiaost say that the shock; itself is used to,

convice "he reader of the tale's reality, The two characteristics 02 *be passages, brevity and rarity,2 can aiso give occasio~al passages an emotionai prominence, as i~ Pr@ndick3s brief elegy for Eoreau,

Then 1 shut the door, locked it, acii went irto the enclasurs where Moreau lay beside his Latest victims., ,his massive face, caf m even dfter his terrible Jeatk, and with the hard eyes oper, stari~gat the dead white moon above, f sat down upon rhe edge of the sink, acd, with my eyes upox that ghastly pile of silvery light a~dominous shadows, hegm to +urn over plans in my mirdd,., Behir-d me lay the yard, vividly Slack and white in the aoonliyht, arid the pile of wooa and faggots on which 3ozeau and his mutilated victims lay upon one another, They seemed to be gripping one ano5hhe rn one Past revenqefui grdppie, His wounds gaped black as night, and the blood that Bad dripped lay ic black patches on the sand (1 18) . f say elegy because the passage evokes elements coramon to elegaic laments, lackizg only Prendickts mourning; though of course, Prendick is more a ratioral thaa as emotiooal tiguse.

S. - - Hontg~aery, more euiotio~aithar, rational, holds a ~eastlywake

%- %- on *he which beac-R-3- ___ a ----raucous "bank holidaytf,- the noise of interrupts Prendick9s elegy where I hdve indicated an eiipsis.

In Prendick's threnody there is too a sugges*ion that Nature mourns the deceased, the dead eyes reflecting she dead moon, ?he wounds black as nigtt, or at the feast *here is a juxtaposition of noreau arsd the animals (transi-tozg) with Nature and death fpermanecce), a con?raast that is itself characteristic of elegy.

21 mdfk ortly twenty such passages ir, rhe novel, or, pp, 17, 22, 31-2, Y3, 48, 49-50, 50, 61, 63, 70-1, 88, 97, 108, 117-8, IIY, 120, 121, 123, 133, 141, This amoucts to roughiy four pages oat of one hucdred acd zhirty-three, or three percent of +he text, I'I ref lecti; ironically too or: Moreau*s earlier self-iden5fication uith Nature for in dea*h he goes back to

Nature, Already in the passage the dead are coffectively

?isr~lved into a lay of silvery Zight ad shadows, This

suqqesls "0, thaz like rhe other descriptive pieces, which move the reader frcm immediate events to ~aturalprocesses and things

more stably present, sunsets, stars, tke sea, a function of the

passage is to loca" the events within the natural process. Of course, in any rumacce, zot mary such descriptive pieczs not

many of great length wi13 be found, since the extension of them

would subvert the narrative, shifting the readerqs interest away

from the human to the cosmic point of view,3 f sense too in this

passage a nostaLgic sense of loss, even if i& is only the loss of ar authority figure nhich Preadick says elsewhere he

flii,ist,rusC,~d tidr dreaded8* (74). This loss, akin to a feeling of

helplessness, a feeling Prendick experiences on several

occasions, is also conveyed through the repeated depiction of

Roreau and his vic%ims as a heap of bhck and wnite shadous,

3Philmus acd Hughes (Eds,) , 2~ &+, , in their Introduc%ion discuss Yells8 ictermingling of these two points of view in his scientific romances (pp. 6-71 . "The tension betwea [ the zwo viewsf.. ,is greatest in Tkg Time flachi~e.Thereafter,, ,Bells gradually comes to place increasinq emphasis or the efiicacy of human effortq' (7). See also Wells* discussion of the two pair*+,% , of vieu ic his "Scepticism of the Instrumentt1, a lecture the Nov, deliyere3 to Oxford Philosophical- Society,7 8 1903, reprir:+,ed {with sfiqlit cEar,yeaf in , I (I9C14), pp, 373-93. Note too that phrases such as Itmy eyes wandered over the scene for a hf..ileg1, %hick recur in these descriptive contexzs, also help form the impression of our observer, Prendick, as one who vustcconcectrate before a sceee cac make a visual imyressios or! him. "f My f eye has had no trainizg i~ det.ails.. . he says, !#an3 unhappily I cannot sketchv1 (89). This is aot, t,u say thaz he is lacking irr imaqinatior, quite %he reverse; in fact, he consnders himself TO ke blighted with imaginati.03, As dontgomery says, Prendick is "always fearing and fancyingJ1 (135-71, aad

Prendick himself notes his tendency to "tangle [myself in] mystif icatior, and suspiciocl@ (40) , and says that he has an

"unfortunate irttagina+ionn (1031. Noreau kou at one point roundly curses Pre~dickls"con•’ ounded imaginatiio, which has wasted the better part. of my day" (75). The relative lack of vivid description thus correlates with Prendick's i~trospactive

'endcncy, the ou?er xecery impressing itself on him only fitfully, Gom2ared to, say, First ggz hi HOOD, or

,,,War -,in ---the ,IAir --,,,,Roreau is sifgularly lacking ir. the extended and vivid panoramas which form the sarrative cores of most of the scientific romances. Edwi~Prendick 's tone of voice, his moral and emotional starce as, in tCe Wellsian sense a more than usudlly psychologically reah character, accordingly deserves careful a:trntior,

. A survey of the novel. indicates that the Hmissing*i sceaery is made up for by descriptiocs of xoise, in particular by vocalizations, the yeipirry, fiowli3y, shouting and scr,?arniti_g t'nnt, ------appears oc tearly every page. The effect of thisSiis to reduce c------_- - -. yetaggain the distncce between e ard a~imals, undercutti~g . --- - - Prendickq5 more sef f-conscious a+cem;$s to aaintaic the _--- -u --C , ------segrcgatian, Indeed, his sizuation is ao" unlike the Time

despises -he Beast Folk, even khough he has n& special love for .-__I_c__c_--- the other individual humans on the island, Similarly, the Tiae ..- - - -- . -- . _- Traveller does not particularly admire the Eloi, ~utdefinitely

despises %he aorlocks, will confess that then" says Prendick,

Ifand irideed always, f distrusted azd dreaded floreaa, But

~lontgonery was a atan f felt 1 nndersto-od+* (74). T?,e bridgxng of the gap betweeex men and beasts reaches its zenith ia zhe t:assfurrnario~~, directiy after Prendick8s first clear look at

the Beast Folk in chapter nine, of "The Cryirg of the Puma*'

(ohpitel: eight) into '*The CryFug of the Ma3" (chapter ten), It

is of iaterest too, that immediately prior to his hearing the cry of "a human being in torraterit!" (55), Prendicfc, still drowsy, atte~ptsIsto clamber out of the hdIiimock, @nick, very politely,

ariticipating ny intention, twisted round and deposited me upon

all fours on the floorn (541, psecisely Pike ar animal.

Noises, in the early chapters especially (two, three aad

five], also help to create ar, aCImosphere of co~fusionand

di.sinte7rai'ion, Ir: chapter two, essentially the record of a co2versdtion uetweeri Pre~dick and Eon?,nom@ry, their talk is continually iuterru~tcd by snarls acd growls, hu~andsd arimal intermixed. #'I heard hiEI [ Norrtgomery ] ir, eviden~ controversy vi+,h someone, who seemed to talk gibberish in response1* (13).

irratiocality of Davis, its red-haired drusken inaster, again reinforce the iiiipressioc of a society unabie to hold itself toge"er, its elements being too much at odds with one another,

The clumsiness of the humans, as well as their: propensity for unreason, is stressed, In the followirg passage it is actively contrasfed with the catural rhythmicity of the dogs as they attack Eor,+gomery*s servant, the unfoztunate Pit Ling,

The black-faced man, howling in a sir.gulas votce, rolled aoouf, under the feet of the dogs. no one attempted to help him. The brutes did their bes: to worry him, butticg their ixuzzles at him, There was a quick dance of their fithe grey bodies over the prostrate figure, The sailors foward shoured to rhea as if it was an admira~lesport, Montgowery gave an anqry exclamatior, ar,d wait strirlicg foward down the deck, 1 followed him (18).

It mag be argued that, as a Beast-Man, M'Ling cannot be contrasted to the animals as effectively as a human might, But if the clumsiness of ?he Beast People, what they have lost, is emphdsized, so too does @ellsdraw attcntioc to the incapacities

"Ipecac is a plant used as an emetic drtlg, that is, it induces vomiting. 'tThe silly ass who ow~sher--hels captaic too, named Davist*, says Eon+gomerp, "calls the thing the pxacuanha--of a11 :he silly infernal names, though when -hereis such of h sea without any wlnd she certainly acts dccordingfl (13), Thaz is, uhen there is a heavy swell, but the ship is otherwise becairued, Montgomery gers seasick. of *he hamans, what %hey canno-, hang onto; and in any evenz t5e net result is the same. Paraphrasing Prendick one mignt say that t5e very clu~sine-ss cf the Feast Folk is the "taint of

of such statements is to purzcture assumed human dignity. Thtls the despairing cruelty ixiherent in Precdickts assertion that it is not so much that others suffer ghich bothers him as all the screaming and carrying on--miiad I known f that all the pain in the world] was in the next room, and had it been 3uab, I believe,..I could have stood it well er,oughn 4-Wellst qualifica".oor, of Pzendick *s more over'ly mural and sentimenkaf utterances; ooe might say it betrays a certain ethical clumsiness.

?he humans can some%imes see this puccturing humourcmsly, as in Prendick's being tumbled out of his haamock, bu"rnst often they do ~ot,acd seen merely "zilly assesH, Only l4oreau is exemptand as 1 sshalP show, this is -becaus-e he excludes himself, by choice, from humanity. Tke deflation aptears most grossly ir,

Davis, the drunken skipper, in the differelce betweea what he is and #hat he claims to be; "I'm the law here, T teif you--the law

sometimes fatuous assertions and stateme~ts, Offered some medicinal liquor by Moreau Prendick says, tlTiie bracdy I did not, touch for I have been ar, abstainer from my bir~h'~(34). Notice

+ha% this is a6 extrayagar' claim for the powers of will and reason, one Prendick makes often, "bough i: beco~msincreasingly harder Eor him to support it ic himself,s

Tu some extent Prendick is psychologically a **reai'+ char3c?er and thus is at times invisible to himself, unable to see his own fatuity or even the Garrowcess, for exam~le,of his initial assessment of Hoctgoz~ery; Ce cancot quite grasp nthe sinqularity of an educated man living on this unknown little island and,, ,the extraordinary nature of his luggage'% (23) .a Yet he is at times capable of (limited) introspection, and at lease able 3 report incidents unflattering to himself, as for

Fnsfance Non+gomery1s opinio:: that he (Prendick) is a illogic-c hopping, chalky- faced saintof an a f heist1$, d tTsoleinrz prig.. .a silly assi' (336) .7 Prendick acts, like ail the heroes sf 5he scientific romances, as a seei1.g eye who only qradually, fati~nally,pieces together the true nature of zhe island arena,

But even more does Prendick act as a socially conditioned auditor, frequently hidden as he observes the action, through

*---_------ssee also pp, 20-1 where Prendick "prevents a fighttg by drawir~q down the captain*^ vrath upo@ hiaself. He dlso calls himself there '$a mild-tempered marv, a staterneck kdrd to reconcile with his laker plans to kill the Beast People, See pp. 124-5, the encounzer with the ~yena-Swine, and note t3is on p, 336, "1 had half a mind to ma& a massacre of them--to build traps or fight them with my knife. Bad f yosaessed sufficient caszridges, 1 shwld not have hesitated to beg in *.,is killing. #*

6That is, the animals, cargo of ihe fpzacua&&a,

?At this pair,?: iri the novel--nearly the end--the readergs assessment likely paralicls Montgomery*~, his reportinu +ryirxg to impose on the inaterials the voice ~f normative authority, Wells needs, +herefore, zo suggest in his characterization oniy sufficie~tindivlduaiity to make Prerdick credibly "a private gerztle~a,?~(7) of some roear,s,e a rentier who night 70 OE d uorfd tour, or take "to natural history as a relief from the dullness of my comfortable independencetJ (43).

Thus, @vcn those utterances which mark him as a psychofogically real character are in fact ocly expressioris of the values typical to Pre~dick~sclass, reaso~ableness within certaic limitsf a~da tight rein on the expcessio~of emo%ion, 9

81 won:lered whether or not Wells nodelled PrendickJs circxmsfances, distiact f row his gicharacterH, on those of Barwiz, who was also comforta~fy independer*t, a1so an amateur biologis?, and whose uorld tour 03 the HEBeqq&g was undertaken par:iy to prevent his sinkxng i~to'he habrts of disaipat~oa commoc to youcger sons of his class, Irocicaiy, Darwinfs father was at first against his son's goitg 03 tf.e voyage, calling it a qwLld idea*, See Gavin DeBeer (Ed, ) Charles Darwig 2nd Thoiaas ggngy Hgl&gr~ Autobiogya~hies(London: Oxford Univ, Press, 1974), yp, 31, 33, 40 for Daruin*s life at Cambridge prior to the voyage, ar.d see also Nora Barlow (Ed.fDarwj.i ggd --BensZow,. ,Letters -,,-1831-1 860 (Berkeley: Uciv, of California Press, 13671, letters 2-8, for the circumstances surrounding the voyaqe. As for Darwi~~s+'meansf1 xhese were provided by his father, who became, through shrewd investments, a very wealthy man (Barlow, p, 141,

9See Johc Bowle, upZrnEerLal Achievement (Londo~: Sccker and Uarburg, 1974), p, 302: #*f This] kigh intellectual trddit ion,, .became diluted in the raw post- Arnold public schools, with t,heir oddly puritanical narrow and games-ridder outlook, hypertrophied by a narrow curziculum and Angfican provincial prejudice, They often turned the imaqe of the Bxitish, Adainistrator into one guite uncharacferisric of the uninhibited and oftec maqcetic chasactefs ~hohad ixade,., the Empire that the Late Victorian drd Edwardian schools would help $0 lose." (Note tba*, in this context ar, Bowle's word liga~iesqlmeans organized team sports.) Alan Sandison, in his 2. Hhed qf $are fkw Here too tte paxticuiar shades in-o 3e general, %e pspc5ologicaliy real into the represcnzdtive. Prendick3s studying under T. H. Huxiey [33), his status as an amateur biologist, may be used tu acconct for his cs~nitmcc%$0 accuzatg observatioan, just as the Time Travelier8s status as scientist accounts for his observing and tbeorlzicg abouC the ndture ~f the fzttxre world, Though Prendickls "eye has.. .cu training in details" (831, his eyes tevertbeless ca9aloque bits of his surroundings as his sciertific trainin3 kas tduykt him to do

9(c0nt18) Yofk: St. Mart,i~.*~Press, 1367), p. 15, says this of the Englisk pualic schools after c. 1870. "Hhat we get is an insistence on., , firmness of character, strength of will, sense of duty, reserves of fortitude..," A2d again, p, lfi5 speakirkg more specifically of .the public school cult of the ggbloads41(zhe athletes), Sandisor: says the characteristics of this cult included "the worshii; of athletic prowess, chauvinistic loyalty, sanctified tradition, contempt for the intellectudl, the suppzession of feeling and sympathy; acd the cultivation of a certain hauteur," uhile some oi this does nohdpply to Prendicg, still he would he a recognizable product of the syatea, someone fells could copy from life, Sandison conticues; "Soae admitted the narrowness of the English public-school manss horizon, but it was usually hedvily qualified by their insistence that he had at least learred to obey and, by consequence, to command, and would come out, we11 in diff icuit circumstances.'* Prendick certai3ly does do his best.

102speci.illy in his geological descriptions, yp. 63, 70, 138, and in hi3 ability to discern the various i~le~dsof animals out of which Roseau has made the i~~dividuaiBedst Polk, VI, Prendick and the Leopard Han

One other poir=t remains to ne made abouk the visual element in the covef acd its relation to Prer.dick3s seeing and hearing for the reader. Apart from the rieccssary scece-painting, af ready noted, the work's most vividly re~dereddescriptions aedrly all concern the Beast Feople. Usually, Pre~dick is shocked (when viewing the Reas: Foik) what may tle called a fieid/ground effect1 as his perceptions tremble on the edge of granting the

Beast Folk the full humanizy he never will consciously accord them, 'Phis gives his relations wizk the@ aal! hys%ericah cast, similar %o the Time Travefler*~relations with the Eloi and the

Rorlacks; azd wizh this comparison ia mind, it is interesting to reflect on PreadJckqs stated reasons for shooting the Leopard

Having chased that unfortunate "icto a corner of the isla:ld" (10 1) from which he canaot escape, Prendick is finally rhe member of che bunting pack who firs- comes upon him, ------1The most familiar field/ground diagram is that which depicts either a white goblet OR a black ground, or two profiles in silhouette. The importact point is that the diagra~nis a gestalt., a totality, noz two sepdraze oojects, 1% is simply our , perceptlzal inadequacy that makes us seFarate rhe gestal.2 into its componerts, cur propensity for creating ei%er/or si tuatiocs, It may seem a scranye contradic+ion if ~e--1cannot cxplaic "I-s fact--but now, seeing :he creature there in a perfectly animal dttitude, with the light gleaming in it3 eyes, and its imperfec?ly human face disrorted with terror, 1 realized again the fact of its humanity, In another moment other of its pursuers would sze it, and it wo:~ldt~ overpowered and captured, to expericxe once sore 9.e horrible +ortures of the erclosure, Abruptly I slipped out my revolver, aimed betwee2 its terror-struck eyes, and fired (1021,

Prendick is irk the cast phrase, $#puttingthe credture out of its niscry+'. relievi~q i' of what he appseherids will be g*horfibie t,o=.t~res'*by giving it a quick and merciful death, This human^

however, iYdnt~ngs.Though rationally fie Ifcanco+, explain the fact*! be knows e~otionally that he is akin to the creature and is awar? simultdneausly that this naay seem a strange contradiction in file1'. Weithcr, presumably, can Cs explain the related asses?iion that iz that instact "1 realized again the fact of its humanit,yH (emphasis added). Save only iK this one instance

Pren4ick denies the human-ness of the Bedst Pofir, or,, at best allows is the status of travesty, yet here the asserrion is made of a renqade, a scapeqoat, ORE who is ?he islacd3s emblem of usrestrained passion. 2

zTho71gh I doubt that Wells was aware of it, there being no evidence either way, %he Leopard is thus used, allegoricaily, by DaTte ia ?he first Canto oE his Lzferxo. While it, is clear thaz the Lcopard bars 19Da~tes~fqpassage through the dark wood of 2he , world, there seems to be some disagrec~ientamong the coBmentatnrs as to the precise allegorical significance of the Leopard, The dispute is made more cornpiex by a secondary dispute, whether the word Ionza is the Florentine dialect Eeminire of leopdrd, or whether it refers :o a Ionza, d. From his OWL emotiocdl point ot view, Prendick is murdering a man i whom accrue all the negative traits of Prendick's own self; specificdlly, the hysteria and irrationality ubich, though

+key a aspects of ?is personality, Prendick nevertneless perceives as threasening to his self-image as the voice of normative authority,

The. killing is also Precdick8s ow2 version of the sinilar desire Moreau expresses to quash once for all %he ani~ality of his creations. "Eat f will conquer yekgf, says Moreau, iqEach tiate

J dip a living creature into a bath of burning pain, T say,

'This time I gill burn out all the acimal, this time 1 will make a rationdl creature of my ownw' (84). As with Prendick, the acimality is clearly a trait of Moreduls self, an irrationality ghich he associdtes with a slacke~~ingof rational control,

Horeau de~ies, however, havir*g uncanny experiences similar to those Prendick hds with the Leopard Mas, "These crecttures of mire seemed szsange or uncancy % you as you began to observe them, btlt to ne, just after I make them, they see& to be indisputably human beings. It" aafterwasds as 1 uaseroe them that, the persuasius, fades, First one ar-imal trait, then acotber, creeps to C,ke surface and stares out; at meH (84). His

2 (co,t Id) composite creature found iri meJieval beatraries, the , offspring of dr unnatural ma:iny be%ween a leopard and a lion, See Dante Alighieri, 24g Divi.22 Cgggdy, translated with a cotninentary by Charles S. Sicgieton (Pri~~cecor.:2rinceh.m Univ. Press, 3970), V, 3, inferty, Pt, 2, Commecrary, pp. 30-11, himself, seems tc me as suspect as his claim the he no longer feels sympathetic pains (811, a claim hc supports with an a7qres:;ive masoceism, thrusticg a psnl~ife izto Cis thigh to prove his superiority to mere pain (80). As the passages cized above show, however, he does share with Prendick a simildr uncertainty, whether tEe Beast folk are truly human or not,

To return to Prendick, consider too thaz only moaents before coming upon the Leopard Ban he was running with the pack of Beast People and actively ide~tifyingwith theat. *$The whole crowd seemed to suing round in the direction of the glint of fire, and 1, too, was swung arourib by the magnetism of the monent. I3 acother second Z was runrtinq, one of a tuiriultuous shouting crowd, in pursuit of the escdpirig Leopard PlanH (100). The double identif icatiori with 00th the huztcrs and the hur~ted \ is less curious than it at first appears, whec one recalfs that \- - this entire sequence of Grits is being Eere pldyed out for the .- .- \ third time, and C-ba's-,ithas +-+hk was the hucted (chapters nine, twelve and thirteen) , It is harjly surprisi~gthen that as the itact of mercyf1 is upon hi% Prendick should feel an uncanny con~ection between himself acd the

Leopard ?Ian. The admission of the creature's humani'y is zhus

JNote als.3, lower dom on p. 100, syedkiaj of the hunters, It~@ -sect through f the ucdergrowthj .. .&a 2 c~owd&,qggegr, fronds flicki~~ginto zr faces, ropy creepers catching ,ug under the chirr, or qrippirg pgankles,. (730-0 1: emphasis adde3) . easily made since it is here with a bullet also easiiy coctrol2ed. I rhink it justified therA, to zegard the appearacces of the Leopdrd Man as, for Prendick, a sort of doubling

{auzoscopy) ,*especially co~sidering tE@ earlier encounter between the two.

I have noted aDove the relative lack of vividly visualized scenes in the aovei, but to describe this critically as a lack is in a sense misleading, Vhat actually exists oc this level is a visual correlative to the Babei of sounds, a blurred impression of siqhts qlh~~edthrough a welter of foliage, "a tanqie of trees and (43) . In Prendickss uncertainty,

48qAutoscopywis a clinical tesm referring to the experience of seeinq ocself outside oneself as an auto~omousindividual, ac3 car* be either extreme1y friyhtening, or cxcessiarely mundance, See Hartin Propp, fi4y ShelleE's Monster (New York: Houqnton Riflin, 1376) chapter one, notes, oc\l~helley*sautoscopy, and -7% for related clinical articles, P~KJ

Without articipating the argument which follows too much, further evidence that the visior, is autoscupic may be found in "he tendezcy of the characters, no less tha~incidents and locations in the novel, to be doubfed, as in the simultaneous centralizdtior~and fragmentatio~of characters in Wells* z!g Time HaEhrgg. The forces producinq this phenomenon are operative in Bores2 too, Consider these remarks from Robert Rogers* T'g ------Double L. Literature [Wayne State Oniv. Press, 1970), p. 14, "If autoscopy and uecomposition are not the saine, they are at least so similar that they may be treated mutatis inntaridis, as identical, and ic fact a pecent psychiatric sf udy of the double by Todd and Denhurst utilizes a mixture of clinical and literary models wirhout apology," Thus I think i?, quite proper to use what is essentidlly a clicicaf term in this primarily literary 3iscourse, Rogers also links the pheraomennn of literary doubling (doublicg, decomposition and fragmeniation he uses as synonymous tarms) with Angus Fi~tcher's discussion, in his Alleqoyc ghg Theory ef e Symboiic Rode {Ithaca: corm11 Utiv, Press, 1964), of sub-character qeneratior, ir; allegory, p, 16 and pp, 138-60. where "everything &as so stranqe about me" (351, aggravated by his identification with the pairts suffered by the puma (42), his imagination sets tc work on these confusing patterns of light and sha4e, 5 thicket about me became altered 20 my

Fmaginatioa. Every shadow became something more zhan a shadow, became an ambush, every zustle became a threat, fnvisible things seemed to be watching megf (45) ,5 Having eirfier, ir, a Ifstate midway between dozi~gand (Y3) spotted the Leopard Plac, now, in a highly nervous state, Prendick notices a creature stalkixg him, whose path is Mparallel. with my courset* (451, walkin3 w3en hc walks and stopping whe~he stop,

9 pushed through a tangle of tall whi%-flowered bush+s, and saw him twenty yards beyoxd, looking over his shoulii~rat me and hesitating. I advanced a step or two lookiccj steadfastly icto his eyes. "who &re you?" f said. Ye tried to meet my gaze, "No!** he said suddenly, and, turning, went bounding away from me through the undergrou". Then he turned ard stared at me agaiz. BPS eyes shoce brightly out of the dusk under the trees. My hear% was in my mouth, bur I felt iay ocly chance was bluff, and walked steadily towards him, He turned again and vanished into the dusk. Once more J thougnt 1 caught the glint of his eyes, and that was all (47-8).

Both the visudl and aural confusion are correlatives to

Prendick f s frquently confused and dreaut-like state of mhd.

Pace!J with the events of the novel Prendick*~reasonaule staoce is revealed as a denial of ?he irrational f?~himself, and as my arql~menthas so far tried to estdbIisiic ?;e becornes reason detatched from na?ure, ac overdeveloped rationality. If this is so then it. follows t?at his unbalacced state of mi:ld is exac7J.y the one iz which to expect what ir allegory Is called (by Angus

Ffekcher) $:he generation of sub-chdracters of the hero,6 and what here 1 would call zhe release of a hostile nature, hence again, the shadow side of Prenaick's self, Extending this use of

3ung8s terminology f would also say that the Leopard Md2 is a projection of Prendick's, this being "+,he axpulsion of a subjective content into an objectu, the result of "the archaic ------frAngus Fletcher, o& ccig., p, 195. See aiso y, 133: '-8uch of the literary interest in metamorphoses comes from the idea of liberation or imprisonment that it conveys; i? continually turns humans ir*to tkeir bestial equivalents somewhere on She scale of the Great Chaio, or frees the^ to live as humaas, with free Or consider this, p, 221~., oc allegory in romances: "it does more than creep i~ around the edges of roBance, it is the very life blood of the type, si~ce,without archetypal simpfificasiocs of character, romance would have no other mison dleC,re but as it is, romance is the natural, popular medim for alleqorical expression., ,I* Fletcher * s reference to "archetypal simplificatiocs of characteri* stems from his following Fryers definiag of romance (in his Agatomyf specifically through its approach to characterizatioc. Fletcher also ~otesthat in alleqory, when 4*plotsand subplots are combined in certain ways, the effect of interplay between them is a causal one, and when major cba~acters* generate4 suLcharackers, f sactiocs of themselves, these fractions have peculiar causal interrelations. The dramatis personae i~ allegorical iictions will not have to interact plausibly, or according to probability, as long as they i~teractwith a certain logical cecessity. This necessity in tuzn appears,, ,to take on 'a magical force, The agents of allegory can help, hurt, change and otherwise affect one another *as it by magic'*' (182). 1 would say that it it; a valid gcocedure to assume that the same holds good for generated as for fragmented subchasacters, Thus too, the relations bet wee^ the Time Trdveller and the Norlocks ar:d ELoi. b3ggS&:xe..of subject and ot ject.. ,T~P term, .,therefore signifies a state of ide~titythat hda become noticeaole, an objecx of criticism, '$7 This mechanism explaifis too Prendick *s empatbetic identification with the Leopard ma in the instaat before he shoots the beast. Disting~ishing f ufther bet ween active and passive psojec~ion,Jung ~otes++hat active projection is "an essen'ial compnezt of the act of empathyi1 and is "also an act of judgemat, 't That is, Prer,dickJs empa5heti.c realization of the Leopard Pla&'s humaoity is a self-ju3gttment he car, in no other circumstacces approach, This process by which the subject distinguishes himself froo: himself ifplays a pro~inect role ir paranoia, which usually ends in +te total isolation of tkc subjec%";s which is i~deedPrenrlick's fate,

if 'he Leopard Ban is a secipier~ of, or in fact a pro jsction of Pren6ickas shadow side, dn instinctual criticism of $is hyper-rationalism, a certaic hostility of each to 4he other is to be expected, This appears in an atEempter3

confron~ation(*tWko are you?") results is %he Zeopard Man's refusal of the terlns (?3Etu!t1) without substitu5ig his own

{"he., ,went bounding away from me through the undergrowthw),

7C3rh G, Junq, Collected Works, 3olli3gen Series XX, V, BI, --Psychological ------!P~gs{Prin~eton: Pcioceto~ UL~V* Press, 3971; with corrections, 1976), a revision by F. P, G, Hull of the translation by Be G. Saynes, para. 783/pagc 457. Only after the recogsition is refused wi3.3 the Leopard yan actuaiiy attack Prendiick, to he turze.1 back by the latker*s vigorous counter-attack, or rather, his acceptance af the shadow*s terms for the encounter, Thew is n clear sugjescion here that whatever the mystery is on tk'e islac3, it wifl uot easily yield to a ra+ionai solution, Even Yioreau's **expfar,atior+"

(chapter 4Y) deals mostly with his surgical-hypnotic operations, tha physical. genesis of the BeasV~oik,and though it is clear that he hrts to a large degree shaped their cu'lzure, he does not acknowledge this and is vague as to its arising and aiairnt?..nance, VfI. The Uncanny Nature of Events for Prendick and the Reader

This interpretation of -he relatioa bekueen Prendick ard the Eeu3ard Ban i~ analytically useful in anocher way, for it coincides with Frrudls defir.i5ioc of the uncamy as "that class of the frightening which leads back to what is known of old and long familiarjt; i~ mar-y cases, the "familiar and old-establishedH are i~fantilecontents of the mind which have

"become alienated fro^ i~,..througC the process of repressiocH:2 thus the uncaEny often is 3gareturn of thi-5 repressed contentM,3 Prendick's denial side in this case - of the irratiocdl and.anirna1 of is nature, Becall too, ~%rlxcic*s assertion on seeing some ------"- ---- of ?he Seast People ddncicg ic a woodland ~lade,that the sight impressed him a s",aangest fdmiliari+y9* (46) .

lsiginund Freua, (1919) "The IJncanay+*, in g& Standdrd Edition u_f ---the Comeiete------ggychpPqq&gq& Burks pf Siqrnupp Freud {London: Hogarth Press and the Institute of Psycho-kr.alysis, 1955), V, XVII, translated ~y James Strachey, p. 220, Eeferences to the ------Standard ------Edition hereafter as, SE, date, title, V. no., page.

31]3id,, p, 243* +*[An1 uncanny experience occurs either when infantile complexes which have bee3 represzed are once more revived by some impression, os when primitive beliefs which hav~ been surmounted seem scce more to be confirmed," There is some crsssover between these two factors, sixe for Freud childhood is the tima when, in modern humans, q9primitivettthought structures and beliefs are unquestioningly accepted. Thouqh the Lecpard Man Is a focus or the feeling, all

Prendickqs reiations with the Beasx Folk are tainted with this seEsc of the uncdncy. Uncanny chardeteristics appear too in

Prendick3s visio~of HaLicg leaning over 'he taffrail 9f the

It looked over its shoulder quickly with my moveaent, then looked away aqain,,,The thing came to me as stark inhumanity, That black figure, with its eyes of fire, struck down through a11 my adult thoughts and feelings, and for a moment the forgotzen horrors of childhood came back $0 my mind. The the effect passed as it had come., ,a figure of no particular importance,. ,hung over +;he taffrail.. , i24-5) . Freu3 also notes that "the factor of the repetition of the saae thinqn can provoke uncanny sensatio~s,so tha: while Prendick's sense sf the uzcanny is primarily stimulated by his encouters uith the Beast folk, the readers3 is stimuXaSe9, by this too no doubt, nu+ also ky the massive repetition of incidents aLa - 4etails throughout the novel,

7 The Z8Ling incident just quote1 is a doubling, neariy

_C_ exactly, of Psendickss encounter with the Leopard Ban, which is L-_ --" i-elf repeazed twice, ar.d humourously redouble3 in Pren3iickqs ---- 7-- meetirAcjwith the Aye Man (5+6D), who regards himself as -_ -_ ----_ \.__ --_I_ h Prendick's equal. They are, says the Ape Ban, two of the same __--- _ 1_1 kind, both havinq five frngers. In each of these encounters too, - - I___lpL_--. the uncdnpy ser-se is zriggered by the bedst3s eyes locking wikh and with the Leopard Mac Preridick spofitaneutlsfy is put in aicd of "a schoolboy expedient aqainst: big dogs" (501, v~hichhe uses to temporarily defeat PC, @hy such thoughts should recur in this contex* is not explaired by Prexdick, though it aesfies well with

Freud's notion that feelings may te provoked oy the uncacny - * ------\ return of repressed infantile beliefs ar,d feelings. The -- - authority claimed by Da~is--~~Lam the fatla and the prap19etsft

(20)--is exactly the same as that actually exercised by Floreau.

The ship could be seen as a doubling of the islandas society, ------I__ _.__.-- ..- tc see Moreau as "intoxicateda wizh his own __I__ ------powers, I~terestinyly,___._-.- the punashment Davis tkreatens to inf Lict \_---- - on M9Lir:g is only what, Moreau bdeady done; **If he coacs \ -- / this end of the ship again I'll cut his insides out, f tell you,

Cut ou~his blasted insidesl dho are ym~to tell &I what f'g to do?" 1201, Note too that the language of authoriry doutlles as the language of rebellion, Desiring to rid himself of a potential trouble-maker, Prendick forces d confrontxition between

5imself and the Hyena-Swine, "1 was perhaps a dozen seconds coflec+ing myself. Then 1 cried: *Saluze! Bow down!' His teeth flashed up02 me in a snarl, 'dho are ypu, that f shoufd., ,*

Perhaps a little too spas~odicafly,I drew my revolver, aiaed, and quickly firedw {l25), The hunting of' Prendick, twice, is repeated in the huz+ing of the Leopard Man, and in too of the, three incidents the hunts dre precipitated by a visit of Moreau

to the village of the Eeast Folk, crre i~ fact instigated by Msreau for his own purposes. The disds-r rhar precipitates the

- - colfapse of che Island*s society is a 45-ible of the disaster

_ _I---4 tha? ended iYoreiiiiu*s icvestigatio~sin England, in each case a flayed 9im-D-??i"This having escaped from his laboratosy, Ir, the u one instarce rioreau is anirnalisticaily #$howled out of the -- -- courttryw (38) and ir: the ozher he is actually killed by the Seas+ l?eople, Montgomery too is an outcast fron society (or so - ---- ____lj -- - he calls hiffiselff, a victim, an3 he implies- that he was exiled for committing one of the large class of wvicti~lessHcsiaes,

----? that is, guilty of a breach of morality, Indeed, legally r-- --- speaking, Moreau had committed co crime either,*

*Prendickgs cephew dates the action of the tale from February 1887 to January 3838 and Mo~tgomesyasserts that he and Horeau have sper:t a riecade CPP the island (1 15). This dates Horeau*s fligh+ from E~giandto c, 3836. In '*realn historical time, during that year and several previous there was a great flurry of activity on the part of the Society for the Protection of Animals Liable to Vivisection [founded 1875) which culminated in a Royal Commission (July-December 1875) a~dthe passage of tEz Preventiox of Cruelty $0 Animals Act of 3876 [aritish Government Docuaents hereafter BGD), 1876 (1681, 1, p. 523). The Royal Commission, whose membership izcluded Huxiey, and which summosed Darvis and Lister--along with an inordinate number of clerqymen-as wit.nesses, no+,ed iri its summing up (BGD, 3376 (C. 1337), XLI, pp, 277ff .f that ;*a very strong feeling has been excited in the cou~try,within the last two or three years, on 'his (284), By dating Moreauts fligkt to the passage of the new law, Wells again extends the novel i1-t~the world a•’ the reader, The law provided for the licensicg and inspection by the Home Office, of institutio~sarid individuals practising animdl experimcatatio~.Is is debaieable whether so~soscsuch as Zoreau is supposed to be would have been licensed, since, iri the opinion of the Commission, the main questions of the issue a11 revolved auout gain, and the use of anaesthetics, idells* views on vivisection (at least kis views in 1327) may be found ir, Vi~csnt3rome gi& Studies in QgqhgeiIing (Locdon: Cresset Press, 1358), pp. 2 1-6; the quarrel: was with Shaw. O~ly:he ftc~~~~cienceof the r,atiu!;f$ (38) was outraged, aot i2s

mercy of chaxe dad the elements, and at the book's en4 he once - - agais, vnl- u~tarlly, commits himself to the oceac. k tec2ency to rkpetition in zhe descriptive passages has already beec \- - .-- noted, as has the frequently hidden s2ance of the narrator and his continuinq uncertairfy as to what is animam- rid --__I_ huwur~Jq),From whatever persgective Che tale is viened it has uncanny effects and the doublir.ys Freud speaks of as

provoking one's perceptioc of the uncanfy heze seems to be a

phenomenon related to, perhaps even of the same kind, as tke repetition which may also coatribute to up.canny sensations.

SIn his discussion of doubli~gir "The Uncannytt, Freud, working , from the tales of 3. T, A, Boffmat, speaks msstfy of automata Cakinq the role of %he hero's double, In the case of Eoredu +he same douut 'Rat a'tacbes to Hoffman's dolls st^, whe?her or not they are human, is easily transferred to t>ie Bedst Folk, VIII. Moreau compared to ZLg Tiae Eachine

At this poict i~ the argummt f feel I ought to stop for a moment acl try 70 assess i+s progress so fir. The most obvious fact is that from a consideratiori of Pzendickqs iachardcearn 1 have detoured considerably into explorations of narrative structure and texture; these seem to be confused and dreamlike, in a word, to be urcamy. Indeed, ir support of the dream-like state of the ~arrativeI can cite ao less aL authority than

Wells kinself, in the Preface to +he 3933 omnibus edition of his acie3C.i.fic romapces he says, "They are ail faztasies; they do no+ aim to project a serious possikility; they aim indeed only a: thc same amount of coavicti~3as o~egets ic a good grippi~g dream, They have to hold the reader by art and illusion aad not by proof and aryumect, and the momenq Le closes the cover and reflects he oakes up to their impo~sibility.~~iThe equation 05

'*dream and far,tasyl* co "art arid ij_lu~ion~~may be accidental, but it is resonant with suggestion, as is the inference that reading the tafes is like beiag asleep, one is not Euliy co~scious and af~eruards one "wakes upn, Ther too, the s-tenent deals only with the riovels considered unreal as gluts, That dream say have its own reasons unknowc co reasop, what. A~gusFletcher calfs the maqical causation of allegory,z is a possibility Wells heze

>either cunfir~snor de~ies,fie does say, however, that ttthe fantastic element, the strar.ge property or the strange world, is used only to throw up and iztensify our zatural reactions of wonder, fear, pe~plexity.~~In other words, the faritastic is as much a subject as the hero, rop~esen~ativenineteenth century

Han. z?g T:sIaKd sf Prh Boreau is thus clearly based on a "modelm similar to that of xhg zi3.g Machjng, but the distinctiocs which are so clear in the earlier text are here all collapsed into one another, In dealing with the la%r novel one feels in onels analysis as much uncertainty as a Pre~dick blundering his way through %be urd~rgrouthof Noble's Island.

A further major difference between the too is the fate of their heroes. Mhile Coth are faced with mysteries which threate~ their emotional integrity, the Time Traveller at the last maintains d firmer grip oc himself tkan does Prendick, Neither

Preniiick noz the Traveller wsolvev their nysterles (or even resolve them) since neither is prepared 70 fully dcknouledqe that the mysteries belong to their psyches, But the TravelXergs reqaining of his time machine siqnals a xeriewed ability to distance the pzoblem, even as the pessimistic apocalypse which follows his escape validates such a soiutior:. Having joarneyed to tLe erd af time the Traveller knows tht all possiule decisions and choices acd actions have the same end: dedth. If

he wishes tu ?hen, the Traveller may easily avoi3 any

has offered him, Failing to convince his contemporaries of the

A-,.,uth of his vision the Traveller agaia uses the time machine to dista~cehimself from thc problems their refusal might creaze,

Then too, the Morlocks and Eloi, 'haugh clearly the

tldescendan+-.s'tof +he Traveller are yet, physically distinct enough from him to be perceived as an external probie:n, The

Travellerqs tale too is set in a wEofly fantastic landscape, again allowing distancing, Prendick" setting, however, is a naturalisticalf y rendered Eacif ic islacd and this proves mach

more difficult to escape from, sot oniy is Prenaick una~leto

distazce himself in space from the problem--for the Beast folk

roas freely over the whole island--he is therefore equally

unable to escape the pressures contingent upon living with :he

bow human, co~animal 8east Folk, His eventual "escapeH to

civilization oniy aggravates his condition,

I would cjo out into the streets to fight with my delusion, and yrcwfing uomen would mew after me, furtive cravixg mer, glance jealously at me, weary pale workers qo coughing by me., ,like wounded deer dripping blood, ,. I would turr. aside, into some chape;, a~deven there, silch was my disturbance, it seemed the pze.3cker gibbered Big Thinks even as tbe Ape Ran had doze,., Particularly nagseous Mere the ular:k expressionless faces of people in trains and omnibuses; they seemed no more my fellow crea+ures tha~dead bodies would be,, ,find even it see~ed that I, LOO, was not a reasoriable credturc, butonly an ani3al with some strange disorder.. .t3at sent it to war,der aiofe like a sher;? stricke~wit:? the .]id (14 1) ,4

shackled to the insclubla pro hie^ of self, in thaz the func%iios of the Time Traveifer [and the professional group of which he is

And Moreau. True, Prendick has some scientific training, but as

Eoreau disparagirigly remdrks, while he himself has been seeki~g

"this world.*s iYdk.C?~** through vivisection, "you, I understand,

c~apetenceof the Travcfier, his 3rive for mastery--knowledge as power--ard his sadism are apport-ioiied to Moreau, while kis hysteria, and the limited viewpoiat of the professionals fall to

Prendickgs lot. Yet it is preciseLy those limi~ationswhich make the ztorg, w+-ich frame it, Vhu could doubt 'hat, told from floreatlts point of view the whole tale would be as munddne and

Like the Traveller, rioreau sf;o%shimself axare of a mysterious dimension $0 his endeavours, but he rejects dny iatiaate connection with it; his exp1ana;ion recalls, both in bis monologuing and in Precdick*~yestiorbs and observations, the

*------*------*This passage Eas 4 double on p. 31: '*I would see me of: the clumsy hoviue creatures who worked the launch...and find myself, askiag, 'rying hard +o recall, how he differed from some really human yokel trudging home from his labours; of I wauld meet &he Fox-Bear $omanfs vulpine, shifty face, z.trangely human in its specula+ive cunning, and even imagine I Cad me+ it before in some city after-dinner Oebate of 'SSg z&'g ggclipg.

Prendick shares with the pmfessivndls of that novel a tendency to warat to leave wezl enough alone, Ahout Montgomery*~ pasb wisdernear.ours, for example, he is ''sensible of a qrowi~g curiosity** 122) only is. so far as HanZgomery encourages investigation; whec he is rebuffed, Prendick quickly rationalizes the situation, fically decldriny, "to tell ",.e

?ruth, I was r.ot curious to learn what might have driven a young mediedl stadert out of iondm. f have an imagina?,iorru '(24). Nor

mystery, Though wirhi~hours of his landing OK the isldxd he realizes that Hontgomery*~ is the raw mdCerial for the

mdndqes to convince hikseff thaf the ducror is zra~sformiugaen ------.--c-c----_-- --- l____P---__1_ into ar,ilnals. However, this might, be more charcitably ascribed to ---- -7 Prendick's similari~y zo the Traveller, both ref using to allow knowledge to blunt their emotiocal preferences, If tor the sciectist-hero knowledge is power, or mdstery, rhen knauledgu ------.- 7 beinq subordinate to these emotionally- charged goals would make the animl side of kis nature ever^ [nose ferocious; rationality,

/ , far from heiny a defense agains-ooly aggravates + -I it, feeds it with power and makes it harder to coctrol. Hence / too the paradox that though Prendick acd zXe Time Traveller kno~ what is qoinq on, they are still impotent, unable to do anythi~g IX. The Character of Bontgomery

Givec this, it is easy to see that Muctgomery to3 is littie

%ore than a sketchy imitatioc of a ctdracter, developed as mZlch as seed be i3 tke opening chapters ay2d shereafter exhibiting, not 30 much traits as affinities. 1 The method @elfsuses to fill out Montgomerygs character is more assertive thar dra~atic,that is, ~otsshown ir. action but developed direchly fro% narrative statements. These assertions come chiefly from Prendick, dnd even where flontgomery himself sakes assertions that may be taken to indica" eha~acter,these are qe~~erallygiven in dialogue wi%h Prendick, often in respnse to a similar dssertion from the latter, "1 toid him zy aame, Edwin frecdick, 3rd kuw I had taken

------*- I I doci t think that Noctgonery's drur,kenness qualifies as a character +rait. It rou2.d be more accurate to say %hat it indicates a posihility of ckaracte~that is never fully developed in the narrative. That is, it says to 'he reader, here is a man who has ~roblesenougk to take to drink. These problefits are hinted at, for example his student, misderaeanours, but never stated, -,

As to the mys+erious nature of those misdemeanours, a number of clues point to a tentaive solution, Montgomery speaks of Eoreatrqs havicy "go? me offti (401, which sounds as thoujh Yontqumery was arrested for his having "host my head for ten minutes oc a foggy nly5tT8 (241, Since it is hardly likely he would have been arrested for drinking, or for hiring a prostitu*e--and Rote that, he later speaks a•’ his "shabby vice--a hlu?der--1 didn9t know any better" (3 l5)--ar,d sirice in the At,, ---Ed., Preface to Moreau (ix) Wells refers to the trial of Oscar Vildc, it seems possible that Hen+-~joinery*~ is more a nmornlw than a le3ai offense, a homosexual "crimeH. to natural, k.is+ory as a relief from the dullness of my comfortable independence. Hc seemed iateres~edin this, 'I've do~esome science myself--1 did my Biology at University

~f the snail and all that. Etlt go on, qo on--t,eli rce ahout the boa?, *N (13). This is an example, somewhat diiuted, sf a ~indof characterization whick I would call the leap-frog method. An assertion is made of one character, his or her personal history, or a sta3Prnent of likes and disiikcs, a~dthis is then dftered and applied to a second complementar y or co~trassiay character,

Thus each character is grounded on the other and neither need be extensively defised by ~motivaticg9~factors, The alterations may be, AS is +Ee case with Precdick and Montgomery, quite slight, intending tu estdbiish a simihrity of backgrounds or interests held in cummos, or it may establish quite a large variatioz, irL which case the character building proceeds from contrast,' ------?Pro~the writi2g poizt of view such a method is extremely economical, especially if the plot and narzative of acy particular work are thought of (by the authorjas more imp~r'ant than t5e delireation sf 8tpersonalities".

A curious example sf the method may be found in Hill& Catherqa Death Comes TPg Archbisho~,where the characters of Latour and Yailiant arc developed in precisely thls manner and are ac$ively coritrasted with one anocher, Latour is thin, well-spoken and has fine aesthetic sensibilities, whereas Bail3anll is short and stout, blu~tin manner acd has the aesthetic sensibilities of a stone, f call this a curious exampie because the book has no real plot or carrative and is supp~sitiouslya drama of persocality, even thoujh the HpersonalitiesHare manifestly flat. The Cwo clerics are, I +hill, meant toge9.er :o form one complete llBdn of ~od", thus Preridickts asser%iocs about tYontqomery9s chdrac-t,er ace of several kinds, though they of course all share the intention of defining it for :he reader. In the Eirst kind, the statements are 71sed to provide FIoatgomery with a se% of reaczio~s, so as to

fill T potential blanks in give^ seer-es, Consider, fur

instacce, Wontqumery's squab~iewith Davis, in the course of which Prendick ohsesves, "1 think Montgomery might have fefr him tEen-seeing ?he brute was drunk, But kc ocly turned a shbde paler, arid followed the captair to the luuluarks,, ,I could see

%hat Hontgomezy had one of those slow pertinacious tempers that

ill xarm day after day to white teata~~dnever again cool to

foryiver.zss, and 1 saw too that this quarrel had beer some tiae qrowinqn (13) .3 A sharp observation, orre that makes the sudden eruption of Tempers more believable, except that welis never again makes anythicg of it, I-'hough by ratiocinatio~the reader

might. The captdin is in a sense, as I said above, d double of . -- and Iilaatgomesy here shown outright- rebellion Boreau, is iz _q_ --1 aqainst such authority, He is also skowr ds passisndte, but

/-

2 [cont'd) their ideological locations supercede all ~the~ concerns, See also David and Rary- Anne Stouck, tfHayisgraphicaf Style in gi31a Cather's ggqgb Comes 231 Archbishq~~,Unb, Tooat 4 1 (1 972) 263-87, of -,,,,,, , pp.

3x3 the As, j%, jV. XI) "text of Moreau, p. 15, Wells changed this to could see that Montgomery had az ugly %emper, and f saw too thdt this huarrel had bee? sorr,e time .;jruwiny,** Though the phrasing is tor-ed dow~, the incorsistency, of Prendick9s mare abiiity to speak on the subject of Mo~tga~~ery*~ctaracter, remains. rhese Gdses to assert that Koctgomcry, like Prendick, is dn , , , , -- .------habitudlly repressed character, Dut to say so wouid be to rely r""---'

The dssertion then, is primarily useful in heiqhtering the drana

of the er.cour.ter betweer Montgomery and the captdic. A similar

asserkion is made about Hontgomery's drunkenness4 rhich, though

it has credibility, is again mostly useful in precipitating "he

findl catastrophe. %he>-r-f- the boats that forces

Prendick's i!n&risoomen+ oa the island. -. /- & second kind of assertion Prendick makes is used to

sugscs~Montgomery's close alliarce to the cenzrai aystery of

*he novel, From the reader's point of view, it seems unlikely

that the novel could contain more rhac one mys-ery. Once the dir

of mystery is invoked, arid associa+-ed with MonTgomery, any o-.:.ner

events not immediately explicable become for the reader both

additions to the mys%eesious atmosphere acd clues towards the

unravelling of the puzzleas H~r~tgomeryis allied to a ixystcry

while both he and Prendick are still shipboard, before the

dimensions of rhe riddle have been eveL hinted, ks the two talk

"ow the quarter-decku (22) Prendick says '"afL1 the time the

straqgensss of him was shaging itself in my mind, and as I ------4See c, I, present chapter,

SExactly the same argument could be mdde about the Time the * Traveller's unra~ellir~qof mys'ery of Jkg Tim ggchize, tnlkcc? 1 peered a? his odd, pallid face ic the dim light of the bicacle behirid me, Then I looked out ar &he darkling sea, where in the dimcess his f ittie islarid was hiddec*' (23) . Thinking next of eke cargo of animals, ard of Miling, Pradick adds, these

'I+hrew a haze sf ~iystcry around the man, They laid hold of iiiy imagindtion and hampered ay tongue."

Closely related ko this deliberaCe mystification is the way i3 which Piontggornery*~saving Precdickrs life is ascribed {by Bontqoaieryf to 4TChance,, .just ckarse,. ,If Igd been jaded that day, or hadn't like your face, well--; it's a curiaus guestion where you vould have been nowtg (23). Chance suggests events kappening outside the control of humans, It does not suggest that events are to5ally causeless, simply that the causes cannot he g~dsped,oithez by common sense, or by rrezdich*~reasonings,

It therefore again allies Bontgomer y to the novel's nystery.

Ivlontqontery s attitude towards Roseau is, like Prendickg s, me of aislike, #hen the animals are off-loaded Roreau says

1 ixching to get to work again--with this new stuff *.,.His eyes grew brighter, *I daresay you areq, said Montgomery, in anyrhisg but a cordial tone" (35) . The complement of this dislike is precisely what one would expect, a synpathy with

Moreauqs victims, the acinals abauz to be ?rran•’ormed. A few minu%es after the altercation with luioreau, Pren2ic.k hears,, w5,hsougb ?he locked door [%o the e~lclssufejthe noise of Lhe stagtoucds, which had now teen krought 3p from the beach, They were notbarkicg, but sniffing and growling ir a curious

CLashion, L could hear the rapid pattex of their feet, acd

Mor,tgornery's voice soothi~g%hemt8 (37). Tkis sympathy exxends to meddEin~j it +he affairs of the Peast Folk, to which both rqoreau and Prendick testify, In his vlexplanatiorwMofeau tells Prendick

Chat "There is a kind of trdvescy of humanity over there,

Ron?qomery knows about it, for he ictesferes ix, their affairs,

He has trained one or two of them to our service, He's ashamed of it, but I believe he half-likes some of these Deasts,. .They only sicken me with a sense of failureu (85) . A short vhlle after this interview Prendick says "I fancied even then that be f Montgomery 1 had a sneaking kindwss for some of 5ht3se aetamorphosed brutes, a vicious sympathy wi3 some of ti-eir gdys.. .tt 140) . This fifa~~yllwichir .shorz tiine hardens into a certaisty, "PI y first friendship with %ontgomery dk3 not increase, his long separation fro@humanity, his secret vice of drunkenness, his evident sympathy with the Beast-People, tainted him to me, Several times I let him 70 alone among them, 1 avoided in?ercourse with them in every possibf e wayt* (lO6), 6

Yet durinq this same period, ds kabit deadens his first terrified reac+ion to the vivisec+ion of the animals and he ------6One wmders how Prexdick could possinly prevett Bontgamery from goinq ainolg the Reast Folk, sir,ce tile Latter has been doing so ' fox years, and totally alone, It occu;s to me 70 suspect "cat Prenlick is here enpkasizi~ghis OWE being left alone whe3 flontqom~rywalks with the Deaszs. loses, like Piortgomery, "every feeiing but dislike and dbh~sence for these is,famous experimcrts of Moreau*sti (1061, Prenilick in fact comes more i action to zesemble Rontqomery, though hr

flontqornery, whom Psendick describes a: this paink as igalmost sotesR4,begi~ls to specuia$e on (essentiaffy) the implications of the aarrative i-el f,

*Tkis silly ass of a world,' he said, *&hat a auddie i.5 all is! P haven't had any life, 1 wonder when it's goi~qto begin, Sixteen years being bullied by nurses anu schoulmszers at their own sweet uill, five in London grinding basil at medicine--bad food, sha~by iudgings, shab~y clothes, shabby vice--a blunder--& didn'tkow any better--and hustled off to 'his beastly island, Ten years here! What's it all for Prendick? Are YC bt~bbiesblown by a baby?' It was hard to deal with suck raviaqs.7

But given Montgomeryts affinity to the Beast Folk, an3 their close sirnilarizy to kumans generally, it fair that the statemerit is only a more particular version of

Prrndickqs earlier genefalized depictioc of the lot of the Beast.

Folk.

?The indica tiocs given here of Honkgoweryss social class, though slight, tend to corfirn~ his sirailarity to Prcndick. Like Prersdiclr (1 sari of the bourgeoisie, he is provided ir. youth (c, 1852-60) with nuzses, later (1860-72) with schooling, and later still 11872-77) with money enough to go to medicai school, 3on~qomerytsseeminqly coctradictory state~wnts, "uad food, shabby iodqingsl+, etc,, may be interpre'ed either as aL em& ionally coloured memory correlated with )$shabby vicetg, that is, with the meBory sf the vice degradi~gthe other components , of the memory, or as an erruptiox into the narrative of Hells8 ow3 experieces as a student at London Univcrsi%y (1884-87). See Wells, gz, Aut,, cha~tezfive, ar;d the ;YacKe~zias,92 ciz., chapter four, B stranqe persuasion came upon me tCat..,I had here the whole balacce cf huna~ life iri miniature, the whole interplay of irstinct, reason, and fate, ir- its simplest form,,,I had not thought before sf the gain and trouble that came ?o obese poor victims af'er they had passed from Moreduls hands. I had. shivered only at "he days of act,uak torment in the enclosure. Rut row tkat saemed *O be %he lesser par*. Before, they hdd oeen beasts, their instircts fitly adapted to theis surroundings, and as ha?py as living things nay be. Nox tky stumbied in ".he shackles of hunaxity, lived in a fear xhat never died, fretted by a law they could not ucderstand; their mock-human existence begar in agony, was ore lorq intercal struggle, one long dread sf Mureau-- and fur what? f t, was the wanronness that stirred me (1113-4).

The risicg note of hysteria discernible in the fast two sentences becomes even more pronou~ced#hen Prendick considers

Moreauis apparent lack of motivation, and he recapitulates the condition of the Beast Folk ir, stronger terms, *If inust confes~,'~ he then actis, "1 lostfaith in the sacity of the world whe~ I

Buildizy from this Prendick then inflates his explanatiori to

still grander proportions, ic the process implicitly exculpati~g

Horeau;

A Liiad fate, a vast pitiless mechanism seemed to cut and shape the fatric of existence, arid I, Moreau (by his paasion for research), Montgomery (by his passion for drink), the Beast People, with their instincts and mental restrictions, were torn arid crushed, ruthlessly, inevita~iy, amid the iiifinite complexities of its incessant wheels (104-5).

This is ozly to pose as a question, at greater length ard more This is wha? 4 meact by Montgomery's f ecdency to exhibit, from tbe reader's point of view, not so much actual traits as

den~zinatorsfor ?he affinity of Montgomery and Prendick to orGe acother are their similar class and education odckgrounds, and their nmbivaicnt aztitudes to Aorean ax4 his r~orks; doreau himself rei~forces this fast similarity (82, 83). On the oce \, ---r hacd the experiment2 fill t, with disgust, yet 02 other they are quite prepared to ignore the sadism if it is ddequately coccealed, When this is imprac+icdl,- botk. are equally willing to r - take llp~pistol arid whip and, u~icler %he plea of necessity, -2- preserve 'he power structure that ?laces borc huaags over :he

1 WSere Pre~idick ana Roctgomery diverge is i2 their attitudes toward the Bedst PeogPe. While Montgomery is perfectly willing to mix with them, goinq so far qs to train "one or two of them ------5

4. Lo,. .servicet1 (as), Pre~liFck atte- maintain a rigid

- I ppartherd, and while he f3distrus?s azd dreads" Moreau, acts

J himself as".a siinii;r kisd of autharity. 1 would say the3 t3at

\ Prendick acd Mortgomery- show affinity f OL om. anocher, Precdick ------eft's worth r-otinq, f %hick, that Prendickis bolt of philasdphizing immediately foilows his murder 3f the Leopard Sa2, thus* the izflated rhetoric has a possible secondary effect of excasing any resiGua2 blame that may a~tachto this actior*, ie, "It's not me, itqs the way of the worll", leaninq more to the duthoritariar~ rationdism of Woroau,

Moctqomery toward the mure loixely Lour-d commur:ity of the Beast Folk* X. The Character of Moreau

In purely physical terms Horeau is present in the novel auch less than MOT-tgomery acd yet kia presence pervd3es the eatire work. Even after his death his iafluecce, largely through

Prendickqs hastily coosrructed theology, cos-inues to be felt,

The 3mount of co~trolMoreau exercises over Mortyomery, whom he hd.5 dlso irr a sense transformed (from a disgraced medical student to P•÷oreau+samitr,wnsis arid "one with a whipw) is very qreat, "He wds al~os*sober" Prendick says of Ploatgomery a few hours after the doctor*s death, **but qreatly disturbed in his mi~d, He had been strangely under the izfluence of Woreauls persgnality. I do rot think it had eve11 occurzed to him that lroreau could die.. .ni? talked vaguely, answered my questio~s crookedly, wandered into general questiorsfl (It5)erea31s irifluer,ce over the Eeast Folk is best exerti2lifieb in the Lcln A - uh ich he gses to ,con'.col them. but the hlffmerel y "a -c, for,g fist of rotseresting as the assertion of the power that buttresses it; y -. L alu .G *His--- is the Hand that ~ahes. is the Hand that wounds.* ----_------'His is the Hand that, heals, * 1 lT%e image of the awesome hand appears in Two other Bells stories of this period, '*The Plattner Storyi1azd ltUnder The Kriifen, Ic Sozh the appearagce has religious overtones, and in ...*g&s is the Light~inyFlash,' ue sang, *•’i&gis the 3eep salt sea. A horrible fancy came into my head that Moreau had infected :heir dwarfed krains i? a deification of himself,,. 'Hjs are the stars in the sky, * (55-6)

TI\ the ++eocratic society of Beast Folk, :lie social order is perceived as fixed and natiiral, de%erniined by tte creator ff3oraau) , acd as Precdick correctly observes, Moreau3s power over the Beant Polk is from f h+z-$mix;,k of view qodlike, he is both crestor ardl upheer of the social ard natural orders. Yrt i\ - even b,Montgomery, who shares to some extent in this divine '-.- --'-'-"---.- " ""------_ sta%uss,2ever believes, not that Moreau g~qhtdie--for like all men he nust--but %ha+ Moreau cpn die; the dif ferace is crucial sirice it mearis that Wontgonq-t-oo allows Moredu the power of a god. It is o say,- therefore, :hat Horeau*s presence w pervades :he zovei because he is its i5au:horJg, and as the inhabitants of the islahilyhis ~reation--~~ineach 2 Moreau., .blended this animaL<.tla .,hatfi (1 34) --so they may be thought of as extensiocls, of early all the events oa the narrative level lead back to him, whether or not he is

- presen? at any given event. /------L R3he heart of the narrative is Moredu8s chapter of

*9explanationi+, which motivates the story by creating the doctar, but which subplies no motivatio~rfor his actiocs. Xn this way ------1 jcor,tld) wPlattnerv, possiwiy satiric overtores too, The tale may Sa read as "a caricature of ?fie Puritdri hereafter" (Basoc Harris, lecture on Moreau, SfU, Piarch 3339, Moreau is no?, like Montgomery, sin~glyallied to the central myztcry of the novel, but is that mystery; or az ariy sate is so represen+ative of that mystery as to be easily aistaken for it.

Pzendick*~atteapts to fix on a mo"va+io2 tor 3oreau are not

Ifor himself) fimlly satisfactory arid i: is hin7t.d that it is this lack of explana"io~at the activating cer~tre of all the novel's consequences, the lfvanto@nesslT of things, which ultimately unbalances Prcndick*~ mird, His last precarious sanity is only possible through passivity, abasing himself before 'Ithe vast and eterral laws of matter. ..Ifor f there it: qust be, I thi~k,.,that whatever is more than animal within us must f icd its solace and its hopeig I-) Yet this posture is as bot*um no dif fercnt than Horeau *s self-idectif ication with nature (81). Theie seems no way fox Prenuick to circumvelrt this contra3iction of an u~moved first mover, except to note its existence,

Por the reader, some other possibilities semain, The explanatory terms attached uy Prendick to his horror-struck realiza4ioc of tte doctorgs ttwar.+onnessH, thay the doctor is driven by flcusiosityjq, are suggestive and substantially io agreement with Woreauts om explacation, that he is driven olr by

'his "intellectual passionsqs, by "the s-range colourfess deligtit of these intc2lec'.ual. desiresH (8 1) ; Prendick calls Horeau ifmad,, aimlesstl vQri~er?", and wirresyocsiblev, his objects uunirrrelliyiblefi (104). This leads to dr- interpretation of Moreauqs charactez as -chat of d ma^ olssessed or even insnne, so cocsumed by ole aspect of his possible rature that he is undalanced. 3ut though there is little dou~tthat gelis wishes to pzeseqt Boreau as obsessed, it is dou~tfslthat ahis is the sum of the character izatior .

03 nosy occasions the doctor speaks perfec'ly good sense, as caz be deduced frcm @ellsshavir.g compounded Horeauss curious

*%xplar,a?ioni* out of the or.ly slightly amer,ded texts of two of his oun articles of scientific jourcalism, speculdtions on the limits of surgical manipulation and the evolutiocary q*fuxtiorilq of pair,, 2 Mozeau3s expfasation of *rnioraI educd~ion", for example, as +*an aztificial modificatiol: and perversion of instinct,, .gugcacity f being %rair2ed into courageous self-sdcrifkce, and sup~ressedsexuaiiry icto religious emotionif

(73) is a direct quote from one of the arC,ic^Les3 and, tlouyh differen~lyworded the same thought appears ia a later magazine

ZH. G. Wells, "The Limits of Pndividudl Plasticityfiand "The Province of Pair.gi, bcth ir! Philmus ar.d Hughes [Eds,) , 2~ sz&, respectively pp. 30-9 an2 yp, 194-3, tiPlaszici",y" first appeared in the Saturday Review, 79 (39 Jan. 1895). pp, 83-90,, and ltPdinH in Science a~dArC,, 8 (feb. 98'34), pp. 58-3, Both are contempordry with the writing of floreag, for which see West, 22 ch&., pp. 96-7, rrBy the time the Eicsz insc,aliiaer;z [of _The Time ------Machine ] appeared he was already at. work aPon, ,,The fs1anJ flf. ---Dr. ------Moredu," The PIacKenzies, a cis,, p. 107, daze the first draft yo after Wells had left Seve~oaks,ub.ich together with #ells' statements in &3, Aut., pp. 430-7, suggests a terainus 2112 of September 383&,

3vPlasticityfi, Philaus and Hughes, p, 39, ar%icle, 41Flurudn EVO~U~~on, An Artificial Processn * There, disti~guishing two factors in human evolution, the natural and

:he ar:iEiciaf, %ells claims that "what we caLi Morality becomes the paddicj of suggested e~oxionalhakits zecsssary to kccp the round Pa1aeolPChic savage in the sQuare hole of the civilized state, Aad Sin is ?-,heconflict of the two factozs. ,,[This] new vieu,.,provides a cove1 definition oi Education, which obviously should be the careful dnd systematic manufactufe of the ar5Eicial i-n. man,Iy Horeau*s being allowed se~timentsshared ay

Veils in all seriousness with a large magazi~eaudience rather reduces the possibility of his using those same sentiments to characterize Horeau as insane,

The other stazements Boreau nakes about himseif dre riot much less ambiguous, for inszance tis claim to have a strongly refigi~us cast of mird and bis claimizg to possess an ideal sani+y.s There may Le a more plausible expfanatioc for Ploreau's actions hut it is hidden to a large extent from Preadick and may thesefore only be approached obliquely hy the reader.

In context these statements act to impress upon the reader

41bid,, p, 2 1-7, Article reprinted iron mg?Ggktl y Revieu, n,s, 60 (act, 1536), pp, 590-35. This article was the first of two parts, +he second of which, lqKordls ar,d Civili~ation~~,Z73, ~BS* hl (Feb. 18971, pp, 263-68, figures in a micor way in Wells' xhg Egg of xhe gorlds,

SWsreau links these claims; q'f am a reiigious mar,, Frendick, as every sdnc mac muss Leu, and he says that kis entire work has been a search for th~laws of 'Ithis world's maker" (81)- and Prcndick a sense of Moreau's general compercscy; "PresentlyH says Precdick, as Moreau convinces him of the foily of nis actions, "I foucd myself hot with shape a+ out mutual positionsu

{76), 6 This qualiiy, togesher with the general air of power attriuoted to Roseau through the use of such epithets as

"fftas.;ive", H~ofici~e~,nre~~l~tef*, '*b road-shouldered**, "powerfully built,..@ith a fine foreheadu, "an expressior, of pugnacious re~olutioc~~,rein•’ orces his authority,

Moreaurs status as controlling authority also explains why the Beast, people remarl: human, riot only after he has left off direct surqical manipulation 05 them, but also after he dies,

Arbitrary authority, vested in Eoreau, rarher thas any personality indweliing in the Beast Folk themselves, is the major biwlitg force of the commurity of Beast People, That authori- once gone, the community ~eginsto erode away, It is a moot pain?, however, whether the crosion is d result of rne withdrawal of authority, or uhetker it is caused by Prendickls tardy and incomplete attempts to reassert authority. For

Presdick, ds for Morcau, the self-ness of the Beast Folk can only he bestial, The day after Horeau's Hexp2anatiorw, Prendick speaks wh" hontgomery on this subject, "Ic particular, f was urgent to know how these inhamax, monsters were kept from failing ------&The doctor seems skilled in his manipulation of this paxticuldr emotio3, ifi the animals (83, 33-31, ic 2renciick, mzrq, and ir his capitalizirig on @oztgumery*s youthful '%blunder1# (40, 115) . ~por, aoredu ar~dt'lontgomery, and fro@rendinq one anotke~~~(87);

Moreau himself has earlier told Prcndick tkat he "sees throughv all the culture of the Beast People, sees "into their very souls, ac3 [sees! there nothing but the souls of beasts, Seasts that perish--anger, and the lusts to iive and gratify theinselvcsf8 (85). Pre~dick: has focussed on this, apparently ignoring Moreau's folloving statement that they are "odd [and coqlex, like everything else alive, There is a kind of upward striving in them.. ," (85). Fearing their assertions of independence (123-30) , Prendi~knips is the bud-- with a f'marif y

Liejj (1 30) --the begisings of their individuation,

At "he beginring of chapter twenty-oce, "The reversion of the Beast Polkvf, Prendick awakes to find himself alone with the

Beas? Folk, says the Dog Man,

are mad, They are fools,,.They say, "The Master is dead; the Other with the vhip IS dead. That Other who walked i~ the Sea is--as we are, We have no Easter, no ahips, ~o House of Pairt any more. These is an end, We love the Law, and will keep ir; but there is ro pain, no Baster, no Whips fur eves againta3 ('128-9),

Prcndick3s apprenensions are further iccreased, when, walking over to them "tnor,ef about the fire atte~pted to salute aef*

(1 30) , Rcf-ing on his earlier: belief, that Ploredu 'thad infected their dwarfed brains with a,. .deification of himselfw (65) Drendick tells the Beas? Folk That Moreau, though invisible, still wa'ckes :hem ar:d that rxhe "Easxr am3 House of Pain will come again, Woe be to bin; who breaks the Law!" (130). Making sure thaz the Eeast Folk are awdre of kia power to wound thew with his hatchet, Prendick answers doubts which they raise.

"In the course of about an hour I kad realfy coxvizeed several of the Beasz Folk of the truth of my assertions, acd *aTked most of the others into a dubious state3# (130). The deslre of the

Beast Folk to keep the Law evep though tYoreau is "gonew narks the stazt of possibly d more human existecce. By attempsing to resurrect "e authority of Horeau in himself qip a concocted reliqioz, Prendick may assure the eveczual degeneration of the

Beasz Polk into mere beasts.

The theof ogy uhich Prendick improvises aftef Mor2au *s death, therefore, is not far fram the true state of affairs. If the au+ho~ityuieideu ~y Moredu could be kept accive, then

Prendickts claims, +,hat he is the Master (129) , %at #'Evec now he aoredu ] uztcbes us,, ,ever, now he listens aoove, .. If { 130) , wovlld be the truth. However, Prendick nzisses his ogportuniry;

I8rSai3. I kepxy courage up to the level of the dawn 1 l23-5j, tad

1 not, allowed it tc ebb away in solitary tkoujht, 1 might hdve qrasped the vacant sceptre of Horeau, and ruled over the Beast

Peop3.e" (127). Ia terms of my previous argumnt, that the characters exhibit affinities rather than trdits, I would say that the postulation of Moreau as "he novel's central authority, mostly removes +5e contradictions I Loucd earlier in his apparent atsecce of motivation, the accuriulation of actions that ,, still does riot account for his actio~s,As such dn authority tie would not- show dcy affinities since he (ar~d affinity to him) defines the icteractio~sof a11 the others. 7

A last poi~~tin analysing Noleau zemaice, one afre~dy i touched upox krieffy in chapter five of the present paper, his exaftation of pure rationality. As par? of his '*expfanati~r:~~

Boreart says more (thar. 1: have yet examix,edf about himself, and more too about zke nature of the ur*iverse. #hen he calls himself

"a religious macw and says that he has "sougk? the laws of this

world*s nakcr all my life" (801, the ZWO sets of e~planatiort overlap, as they do agair* d few sextencea laxer, "To this day1* he says, "I have Lever troubled atout the ethics of the matrer,

The study of Nature makes a man at lastas remorseless as i4aturefl (81). Thus it seeins that, the origin of Horeau*~god-like authority lies in his own self-identification nrith this world's

?functionaliy, therefore, Moreau acss, as 1 character, like the ?lnstate:l but clearly visible sr;ructuring zotiua: in ?J%sTime 39~hi.lle~the coamon centre to which all the characters in that novel tuinble, This centre of gravity may be thought of as a notion of a culture of doers, men of actioa, professionals, These la~eragpear, scarcely altered, as the technocrats who usher in the mil fenium in @ellsrvarious later: utopias, The Time Traveller is the epitome of this culture abd, f~rthe purposes of the story, representa+ive nineteezth century man, Taus, though 'he professionals are bound %o reject his tale because it suhvefts *heir value structure, nevertheless it develops clearly, from thdt same value structure, IE, Boreau the doctor is thqrefure tte centre of the novelts valorization.

8This is oridy an implicit claia on &oreiluys part, adseems +o work thus: "1 seek the world's Eaker, Nature's Creafor and The process goes so far as to emile Moreau to claim that he nu longer com~assionatesfor his victims a: all. Become as remorseless as ~a?urehe is become notUn4 natural law, pure rationaii+y totally divorced from animalitry. ,$The thir.g before you is no longer an ar+imal, a fellow-creature, but a prob2em,

Sympathetic $din--all I krow of it 1 reaemuer as a thing I used to stlifer from years agois (8 1). Indeed, throughout his

'*physioloqical lecture4* (761, Moreau repealledly stresses his owsl emancipation from pains and pleasures: "Yne store men and women set on pleasure acd pain, Prendick, is the mark of the beast upon them, the mark of the hedst from which they came,, ,[ and]

?hey are for us, only so long as we wriqgie in the dust" (81).

Though in this rarefied conditio~ he is free to pursue his cxiteriraez:tdi course, his very coa,cept of the human ironicarly quardnzees the failure of his quest. Admitting that human ~eings still show $Ithe marks of the beasttf, he yet-, wishes to create humans who have this essential component "burned outn of thew, ------8 (contld)Upholder; S imitate his natural processes; I nave become thereby as remorseless as Mature; the Maker operates dccording to his own Laws adif I as a Maker also operate according zo those Laws then 1 am like the Maker; in fact, nithin the boundaries of my island, I am Nature," It seems uslikefy that, absorbed ir. his work, Boreau cocsciousPy recoq~izesthis process of rationalization, but rather simply operates ds if it were fact, which emotionally of course, it is. Notice too that, folloging the liae of thought a little further, the distinction betweec "this world's makerfQas creator and Moreau as sub-creator may be erased i2 the products of the two become indistixguishabie; hence Horeauls enphasis on the necessity of aescheric cos:viction whick his Tthuma~~l*must produce him before he will acknowledge them as truly human, Of his first mac he says, j1It remembered me and was terrified beyond imacjindticn,. ,The more I looked at it the clumsier it seemed, until at last I put the wons'er out of its miseryn

It3 1-2) .9Pemembering its painful osiqins, the creature is ucable to move beyond these memozies arAd accordingly can never achieve

Hureau's ideal of transcendence.

I assume here that Moreaugs guest is other '-hat what he states, Though he says that it[ what ] I wacted--itwas the only thinq I wanted--[was] to fi~d out the extreme limit of

plas+,ici+p ir, a living shape** (81), what in fact he pursues is

an idealized humdn image. tie speaks elsevkere of certain animals

being Getter than others for J%an-making*g (82) and of i'cravioys instincts andl desires that hara huma~ity.. , anger, hate, or crea%ing his humans. "But I %illcoriquer yetH he says. +*Sach

dip a into a bath quurning pain, 2 0 7 say, This time I will burn out ah1 the animal, this time I will

make a ra%ioxaf creature of my ownt* [Slit. The ideal is so .- aliena%e the creature- from its own a-riyins by massive

fail for "it remembered me, and was terrifiedtg, The use of pain,

Vnce again, killing a Beast. iic pr~s~n%4+~,ctn act of charity uhe , clearly, the charity is being done by the ' hqmag for 21 _-

1043 image of baptism, uhich Moreau urdersianus only throug$ old meii~ories, acxuaily strengthens that "something I canriot touc5, soaenhere-1 canuot determine where--in the seat of ~f~eemotions,, .a strange hidden reservoir [%hat will] burs& suildeniy and ir.nur,daC.e the whole creature with anqer, hate, or fearH (84) ,I1

Divorced from emtion himself, Ploreau can only deal with it in his creatio~sthrough the impusition of a rigid code of laws,

He denies complicity i~ having formulated the Law, possibly because, being a series of prohibitions of ]*acts of follyw, "the maddest, most impossible and most indecent, things one could well imagir,ew 1651, it recognizes the power of that vhich he attentpts to eradicate,lz Horeau's emphatic sadism, his desires to master and possess, fink him to the Time Traveller, and show clearly rkat rhe ideal human he seeks to create 1s a dou~leof himseif, one who will be emancipated from anirndity, from pleasures and pains alike, This is what f meant when I said earlier that ------llIt is ~oteworthythat ira a cocversation with Prendick and Monkgoiucry, the Ape Man reveais nhat appazmizly have been dinned into the Seast Folk as traits quintessentially human, that "You [Montgomery] never bleed lor weep, The Plaster does not bleed or weepq1 ('34). fIi its immediate context, the poirit is that Prer:dick, having done both ttese thicgs, must be a Beast Polk, or so the Ape Man reasor~s. In a wider, critical context, the poi~tis that 3oredu8s defir-ition of humacity is a denial of fleshly reality--perhaps related, through their shared sadisa, to the Time traveller*^ flesh revulsion--and a denial of the emot,iosls; the absence of which two things would result in an extremely , repressed kicd of human beiag,

1zThi.s is a truism of his'orical studies, tha+ where one finds abundant adrepeated prohititior. of a certaiin ac-, say, asury, "he "crimew is erdemic, self-identificatioc with god, uith the wiawsyfof nature, is at bottom identical with his claim not to feel enotioo, though in so far 3s he takes pleasure in his work (35, 81) a24 feel3 the lesser pai~of repeated failure to realize his ambition (841,

his claims are a shdm, His misagpr-ebecsk of hiaself reflects the confusion ?ha+ exists elsewhere i.2 she ndrrative, and feeds

into the aajoz crux uf the novel; what is disricctively human,

what is disicctively animal? If 02-e car; for a ~omentaccept that

Veils inL,enlied Horeau to agpear tznbaf axed, obssessive, the; his

lack of mo+ivation and the irrationality that exists ic hint

uith~u?axy lessening of rational coctrol aqaic add to this fundame~ta: dmbiguity. IP tne ecd, Moreau" rr?hless search for r;--\ r;--\ ?he seaas to crerittz ratiortal creaxure of my o~n" is pursued --4 - L as violen?lly as a~ythir-gthe humans may have to fear •’row the

Beast Folk bursting +he bourds of the taw, The apotheosis of reason here results i~ a regime everi more uestial ~hau ins5.nctuaJ. violence, for it must day i2s own true, brutal nature in order to maintain its irtegrity. XI. Allegory and She Beast Folk

Since, in one co~neczionor another, nearly everything I intended to say about tke Beast People has alreddy beec said, the chance hem to analyse their colfectivc character aiso affords an opportu~ity to recall some staqes irA my line of argument, To beyin with, 1 said +hat +he Beast People share with t--. the humans a capability either for reason or hcstiaiity a3d too have a kind self-~e~s, related her human \ chardcterr-/. 1% uas, I/ fourid, difficul'. to juszify these perceptio~sby recourse to specific quotatioris and for that reasor. 1 called the bond betweer~ hunians and Beast Polk ar~ nzar5cufatcd ace. B closer exami~afiori of tLe texture of zke2 carratbye, however, shows that Wells3 chosen techniques, emphasizing noise, aural coniusion, and reducing the visual cornponeatto a "green confusiocfi, corselates with Psendickjs frequently confused acd dream-like state of mind, and operates to reduce the dista~ce Prendick assumes exists between Beast

People an? humarLs, This gap narrows to vacishing in Brcndickqs encounters with the Leopard Man, and in analysing those eacounters 1 defined +hat &erceptior- of the strange self-ness of the Beast Folk as a field/grousd effect, This effect exists not only for Prendick, but also for the zeader a24 bears a close embldnce to Freud4s def ir.ition of the uncanzy, Somz of the

importacx characteristics of the uncanLy are, the

he repetition of +he same

returns, ff 1 TCesc

---_I__-, characteristics are presext in Prendick*~ encourtehs with the

LeoparJ Man, who is his shadow douhle, the darker side of his -.(-- --. -. self releaseedickls denial of his- own animality; this process, I fou~d,closely resembles the generation from the hero of the sub-characters of an allegory,

An examization of the novel in this light sho~ed, throughout the work, a massive doubling of incidents aEd details. The doublir.g, if it is at all coasciously done, acts functionally to blur the distir,clion betwwen hl~mansand azlimals, fRec%lItkdt cis ke shoots the Leopard kaz, Prenlfick says he

"realized,. ,the fact of its humani+.yM, the only context ia wlricli the Beast Folk's humanity is allowed by Prendick the status of fact,) This indisti~ctness is an insisten? coucterpoict to

Prendick's contrary assertions, and the disjunction f feEe between Prendick*~commentary and the evezts of the story forced a realization that the Beast Folk are a marAfest clue witnir~She zext to the whole kateat structure of doubling.

It is in the iiefd/yrsund effect too tkat the reader first begins to suspect that Pre~idickperhaps protests too much, f have already cited several passages which shou that ip. si9ua5.o~~where it is possible for Pre~dick's emotio~sto usurp t+e reasombleness he values more highly, and for his emotiofis to coctr~l5Fs behaviour in spite of hl~ketter iriteztions, they invaria~lydo so, This he calls kls irnaginatioc, his tendency to T3mystification and suspicion8' (40) . In just. sucn a situation, Prenlick's first witr-essing of the sayixg of the Law, a situation charged, moreover, by Prer-dick s mistaken belief that

Boreau is hutting him to take him tack to the "House of Pain1#,

Prendick says this; "A kind of rhythmic fervour tell on ail of us; we gabbled and swayed faster and faster, repeatin3 this amazicg law. Superficially, the contagion of these srute men was upon me, Sut deep down within me, laughter and disgust struggled togetherH (651, It, is not clear whe%her the "laugfa*er and disgust1' echoing up from inside Pse~dick origicates in his

"real" (rational) self that despises and draws back from these hideous creatures, or comes from his *Ireditt (alairnaf) self which scorns and hates 'he Law itself, The immediate conditio~s surrounding this event do not clarify this, except to the extect that +hey are suggestively like thosc other occasions when

Prcn4ick9s shadow side appears, Just before the passage aDOVe he says, "1 could have imayired I was already dead and in another * worlJw, and just after says +hat "1 could have fancied it f the scens] was a dreamv {65).2 This kiLd of statement tends to axou5e "he reader's suspicions of Prc-dick's competency as observer, thus reieasi~g the reader r_o reconstruct other connectinrs betweer~ 'kc Beast Folk and the humans, Oce e3ds u; creating a range; starting from such degenezate Beast Folk as the Leopard BarL, one moves next to the 3east folk in general, then to Montyornery, to PrendicL and finally to Eoreau, as if each grew out of the one previous and were indeed a developmental stage, an evolutionary way station,

Now the concept of the double, Freud notes in tha; same essay on liThe Uncanny1$,

can receive fresh meanirg from the later stages of the egoqs developkxlecl, A special agency is slowly formed there which is able to stand over agair-st the rest of Ahe ego, which has the fu~ction af observing azd cziticiiir~gthe seif azid of exercisicg a censorship within the mind and nhich we tecoac aware of as our mnscieuce, In tbe pathological case of delusions of ming watched, this mental agency becomes isolated, 3issociaLeed fro^ the ego, and discermble to the physician's eye, The fact that an agency of this kind exists, which is able to treat the rest of the ego like sn object, the fact, that is, that man is capable of self-observation, recders it possible To invest the old ------idea of the double with a new meaning,, ,3 zf3teres"ingly, these same persuasions precede the evects of the main narrative itself. Just as the ;f=ecdchua~a conies to his rescne, Precdick says, "Z had a persuasion I was dead and.. ,?bought what a jest it was they should coae too late,. ,to find me in my bodyg3, and after he has been hauled on board, he sees "he face of M*Lir,g, xhinking it is "a nightmarei3 (11).

3Pre3dJ "The Uncannyg\ Sg, V, XVII, p. 235. See also chapter fivs of the present paper, n, 7, 8, for Jung*~co~ments on the possibility tkat such a dissociated pztion of the ego in oSserving may either exercise judgement or be an acr of self-cziticism. Uhils Freud does not specifically articulate the The presence of doubling in the novel accoarts for my hesitation in treating the characters as if they were, or were intended to b fsychologically real. In "his cocnecriax coasidcr , for instance, +bat the scaterner.t made by Prer.dic% that Pioritgoaery posses~es a slow-burning but (once ig:sited) aL unquenchably fiery temper (l9), may indicate a repressed nature and tilay be rela?ed (as I said) to his fear arid hatred of PIoreau, in so far as these may be demonstrable; but there are really insufficient grounds *o vindicate such assertions, sicce they mas, resz on so meagre a textual basis, In Morepu as in his other scientific romances gefls lends the characters, even the major ones, individuality sufficient only to give +he taies iapetus, For

'EheSe reasons +hen, I approach tbe ~~aractersin functional terms rather thac trying to consider fine and (seally) incalculable shades oi realism in thcir prese~~tation,ay analysis, thesef ore, piaces more importance on a f finieies than on .]uali%iies. To so proceed, locating the characters in relacion to one acother, defiEing the rules they seem to fill in a larger, tra~s-persocalscheme, a cha~acterology,is in effect ?o reconstruct the novel as ac allegory. Given -he possibilities which Freudss *+fresh ~earinq" opeas out, to so proceed is in ------_------3 (contqd)possibility of supcr-eqo doubling it is clearly one that may legitimdtcly be developed frori: sl~chs:atemen:s as these. effect to postulate within the tale 4 psychic allegory, a psycho~achia,4

T3e lqspecial agencyu which Freud mcr:tions is an early

(1913) formulation of that concept he later called tke super-ago, In the 1938 essay, "Ax Outlin~of Psycho-Analysisw, 5 he describes it iit some length, It arises, he sciys, out of the ego itself, as ego siailarly arises out of tke id, dnd carries out $here the functions previuusfy performed for the child uy its parents; "it, observes the ego, gives it[ orders, judges it and "hratcas it with punishments, exac'ly like the pareats whose place it has taken, We call this agency the super-ego and are aware of it in its judicial fu~ctionsas our co~science,~~~

But in performitg these functions the super-ego acquires added power. +lit is a zemar.)rai;fe thing thar the super-ego often

iisplays a severity for which no model has beer provided by zhe

4The way in which I. bave developed this notion is of course my responsihiliZy, buz the suggestion stems from M, Harris, +*ScierceFictior, as the Dream ar.d Nightmare of Progressu (Part 2), West, Coast Fevkew, V. X, 1 (June I975f, pp. 22, 23, See also William Reflamy, z& Novels of WellsL EeQmt: Galswofthy (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 3'371), p. 50, where he makes a similar claim for &ellsfzhg ,TTgg &chine, and ibid., p. 68, sYreud, (1338) "An Outline of Psycho-Analysis1* (London: Hogarth Press, 1963) , trans, and ed. by James Strdchey, V. 35 in ah Ixterna%iunal Ps~cko-AnaI.y&~tAp1 Library. Volumes in this series hereafter cited as, Freud, (date) title, Ig&, V, number, publication date. The zl?& text is in this case, as in most others, identical to that of 52. "Outli~e~~is in S2, Y, XXIfI, ' pp., 333-207. real paren+,$, dnri moreover that it calls '-,he ego to account not o~1y fur its deeds but equally for 1% thoughts and ucexecuted intentions, of which the super-ego seen;s -,o have knc~wledge,~'7

Tbe origiz of this urtworted severity may be c_farified oy reference +o Freud's comments in the (3317) ~ntrodpc&t.~y ------Lectures, where he says that the super-ego (or ego ideal as he then termed it) is created "wi1:h rBe inkention of re-establishing the self-satisfaction which was attached to primary infantile narcissism. "8 f n othez words, the super-ego allows ;he orgacism to feel pleasure (a pleasure similar to that previously experie~cedin gratifyicg insti~c?ualAesires) iri the successful circumvention of instinctual desires. The severity of

+he sllyer-ego results fro^ the c5ild8s repression of hostility touards the parent, Turciny this hossiiity inwards, the ego unavoiddbly acts to satisfy the destructive impulse, fn this way a cathexis is formed frcm id through super-ego to ego, which latter is treated as an objectas It is ix this sense that the super-ego is a aoubfe for the id, and it is this too which accomts for the ability of "he super-ego lo uzite with the id

PFreud, Ibid,, 1). 335, n, 2, where the ediyors noze that cathexes are *icharges of psychicaf energy cozcentrated upon objects,t1 They also no%, &&id, p, 335, n, 2; *$The concept of -----Eesstzunqgp -- (cathexfrs), chdsges of psyckical crieryy, is fundamental to Freud*~theories.*' A Zuller discussion of cathexes is appc~dedto Freud's (1894) HNeuro-l)sychoses of Defenseq*,SS, Y, 111, pp, 63-8, and "make copmon cause dyainst -he hard-pressed ego, "10 ~utsuc*h a con4LtiorL is already pathological since in] cormal, stable states,.,tRe super-ego is not distinguished fron the ego, t~ecawi.th~y work +ogether harnozlously, This split sta", caz lea4 to a further fragrnenzatioz of the ego, ~iththe critical faculties becoming reconstituted uutside the ego as a shddow double, lz

An exarnicatior of the novel shows that the figure who most clearly corresponds to tha-f the super-ego is Moreaa, the creator of the Beast Folk, their punishing father and, through

:he agency of the Zdw, tke voice of their (collective)

IzFreud, Introductory &ec?ur~s, %,V, XVI, pp, 428-9: ",,,there actually exis" sin the ego an agency whict ufceasinqly observes, criticizes axid compares, acd io that way sets itself over againstthe other part of the ego, WE believe, therefore, tha- the patient is betraying a truth to ue which is not yet sufficie~tlyappreciated when he compldins that he is spied upon and observed at every step he takes and that every one of his thoughts is reported and criticized. His ocly mistake is ic regarding this uncomfastable power as somekhing alien TO him and placing it outside himself, Be senses aL ager,cy holding sway in his ego which measures his actual ego acd each of its activities by an ideal ~qpthat he has crea%d for himself in the course of his development, We believe, too, that this creation was made with the ilctentivn of reestablishing the self-sdtisfaction vhich $as attached lo primary infa~tilenarcissism, but which since then has suffered so many disturbances and mortifications,, ,when in delusions of oSservation it [ the ideal , -ego] becomes split up it reveals to us its origin froin the influence of parents, educators and +Ce social environment--2 rom an identification with some of these fiqu~es,~*See also Freud, -Eq9 224 24, p* 49. conscience, XE the earlier, detailed examir,atioz of Morcau as

"5e central duthsrity of the novel showed, he is, in the minds of $he Beast Folk arid Hontgomery, LO less zhan in his own estimation, a lireral god, "1 car. see through it allg3 he says,

"see irito their very souls, and see ?here nuthing but the souls of beasts, beasts that ~erish--anger, arad the iusrs to live and gratify themse3.vesfT (85). The ability to see into souls and perceive therein "thoughts and ufiexecuted intentionst1, which the

Reas? folk also evidently believe Moreau capable of, is a chardc+esistic of the super-ego, Bore importantly, it is ckiarac teristic of the image of tke prohibiting father and punishing qod, both or either of which may for^ component pats of +he super-ego. In his (1131 3) Totem mij Taboo, Freud traces in the devefo2went of ~eiiyior~the attempts of me +o reduce

Oedipdl tensions, those same tensions frm which uftimatsly arose the super-ego, noting that #'at botkom, God is nothing other than an exalted fathermwI3Ir the (19231 fT Eqlt gd t_&g

Ail, speaking of the "ego-idealH, Freud expresses this thought still more lucidly; **even ordinary normal morality has a harshly restraini~y, cruelly prohibi'ive quality. It is from this indeed, 'hat the conception arises of ac inexorable higher being

13.3'rt?u4d, (1333-14) wTo+,eni and Taboo", %,V. XZEI, p. 347, See also Freud, (1314) "Or, Sciioolhoy Psyckologytf, in ",be same V, p, 243ff. who metes out puci~fament.~~1*Similarly, the severity thar the super-ego often exhibits, fueled ~y energies cathected from the id, correlates closely with Moreau4s peculiarly dscetic sadism, whic3 elcoppsses Loth h~swork wi3 hhe hcscal2cl and his creation and nanipulation of the Law which centres an himself.

A super-ego can only come into existe~cein rela~ionto an ego, and this role is fulfilled by the Beast Folk. As 1 noted above, the spliteicg of ego from super-ego denotes an abnormal condition, a~da consideratio& of the characteristics of the

Beaat Folk confirms Phis, living as they do in perpetual dread of sreakicg the Law, and iri dread of their ow^ resurgent desire z3 do exac5ly that. In Eqo qpd fg Freud claims that the ego is

danyers from three directionsta, 15 ------14Freud, (1923) The Egg sag the_ La, sE, V, XTX, p, 54, See also Preua, j1922) Seven.F_ee~thCecturp Demonofoyical Neurosist*, same V., pp. 63-105, especially this, on p. 85-6, where God and Satan are compared: Jv,,,we know that God is a fafher-substitute; or, more exactly, that he is dn exalted father; 0s yet again, that he is a copy of a father as he is seen and exalted i.2 childhood--by icdividuals in their owc childhood and by mankind in its prehistory as the father of the primal horde,,,If the benevolent aci? righteous is a substitute for {the son*sf father, it is not to be wondered at that his hostile altitude to his father, too, which is ox of hating and fearing him and of making complaints against him, should have cone to expression in the crcatior of Satan, Tkus the father, it seems, is -he ir,dia.idual protoiype of both God azd the Devil,"

'SFrsud, Ihid,, p, 57. Note dlso that while Freud says, in 13338) "OutlineH, 32?_L, V. 35, y, 22, that, in unoraaf, stanle states,,.the super-ego is not distinguishefi from she ego, because they work togethe; hacmoaions2y1~, and that the splitting of t5e two, necessarily i~ivolvinga weakexinng of the ego, is a fro9 the derna~dsof the id, from those oE external reaiity, and

from the super-ego, The B~astPeople's cox2 lict: with "exter:idl reality*' is refleczed in t3eir only part.;y successful attempts to initia'e a culture, swaddiing themselves in the cloth Yoreau supplies, makir,g "rough vessels of lava and woodff (S3), building

"emselves "densu, and, though their qqboveisare rather better that those of the KdnakaQs" (82-31, living a generally wretck~ed existence. Their major conflict, hovevsr, and that which generates the greatest anxiety comes from their being capable of ci+ her reason oa: bestiality, their battles against super-ego or

Their hesitant icdividuation is suborned from the scar% Dy the Law arid their own instincts, in ~uchthe same way that the chiidis i~matureego is forced to anu faiLs "to deal with tasks which it could cope with lakeef or, vitk the utmost easegq, 16 in dealing tha; is, with Oedi2al conflicts, wnerein instinctual and cultaral challenges io tkLe organism's individuation meet a~d combi~e, *'No human individual is spared such traumatic

-*-*-_-*------15 (~or-t*d)pa?hological condition (291, in i??g pala he often speaks as if a type of this split condi?ion were itself normal, as for instance p. 35, where super-ego differentia:ion attains the status of (afmos%f biological ~ecessity,This ~akesit difficult to deter~iaewhether ic fact Freud regards the condition as pathalogical, especially since the basis of the aiTferan+iation, and the bdsis roo of any neusosis (an Oedipal ' complex vith attecdant traumas) happens to all men (42). experiences; note escapes %he repressions ro which they give riseavI7 For #ells* Beast Folk, as for Freud's Man, the result is neurosis, "which involve[ sf permaneat restrictions on f: their ]

internalize Woreau's repressioa of themselves, even though the

'*Sayer of the Laww krrows that that Law is ds evil as the evil it seeks to abate, 19

' evil are the punishments he says ] of those who break the Law, Ncnc escape.' *??one escape,' said the Beast Polk, glancing furtively at each other, ., 'Norie escape,' said the grey creature in the comer, rNone escapefa said the Beast People, Looking aska~ceat oEe another,, , 'For everyoLe the war~tthat is bad,' said she grey Sayer of the Law,,, 'None escape,' said the men in the doorway. ,. 'None escape,' said the Ape ?!an, scrazchi~ighis calf, 'None escape,' said the iittie pink sioth creztxre. 'Punishmen* is sharp and sure, Therefore learn the Law, Say the words?' (65-7)

The bchaviour of the Beast Folk described here, and elsewhere, as ur-tiveH, "ab jectl', "looking askance4\ reinforces this impression of them as anxiety-ridden and neurotic. It is L- slightly unset'ling too, that Wells shoula picpoint as a source of their anxiety a conviction i~ the Beast People of original

IgThouyh of course there is no intrna$ion that he recognizes that he knows this, which closedriesa is quite in beeping with his role here of a particle of a psychic part, sin--"For everyme the want that is ZadN--ar..d that he ties this

closely to their fur2ive, or neurotic, behaviour. In Freud too

neurosis is ic a sense e*~uivale~tto original sin, the res~ltof

unavoidable conflic+s oneis ego has with oneis instincts, It

stems both from the nature of Freudts Han and society, and in

Freud as in Wells, "none escapes3 :cis kind of psychic deformation, 20 Freud i3sists that ~eurosisis iwiscapable, f n

the T~L~E~~~IC~OT~Lecturg; [l317), ir. fact, he says that these

kinds of conflict *!may perhaps o~fyoccur in human beiogs, and on that nccoun? neurosis may, generally speaking, constituze

their grerogative over the a~imals.~~21 fr short, being human mean; that ~eurwsisis unavoidable and u?avoidabfy flaws every one of our natures.

------."*------2oTn theological terms man fell as a result of disobedience to god; he failed to mediate bet ween obedience to the serpent, who urged self-assertion, and obedierxe to god, who demanded self-abnegation, If psycho-analytic terms maE is a creature in so far as he suffers conflicts--and heLce has formed repressions--as a result of u~successfully media tizg between the demands of reality (or super-ego forces as they are embodied in' society) acd his instinctual demands; is faller then, in so Zar as 3e is xeurotic, XII. Allegory and a dreaming Prendick

Qhile there is ap u~doubtedcor~espor~decce between Freud's ego ard the cvflective character of 'he Be3st Folk, it dould be more correct 1 think, to call them an immatu~eego-id, that is, an immdture ego, and one kept so by Horeau's fierce repression,

In other words, it would be a mistake to seek a point-by-point cornparision of the texts of Wells and Freud; it is enough merely to establish a strong parallelism,

Havi3g done this, it is easy to see that +he aflegory as so far reconstzucted, though 1 have given it a psychoanalytic gloss, is in fact very lilttle differe~t,",a?) other allegories in rhe European traditioc whose coLcexs also centre around problems generated by the perception of a divided consciousness, of a radical discontinuity ic experience, "IThe] &llum

------intcstixumf3 cotes C, S, Lewis in his &&Leggyp of Lqpe, qtisthe root of all allegory",% and this was stems from a consciousness of divided will, which means nneccessarily to tarn the mi@d in upon itseif,"z Though he does not explain why--beyond ascribicy it to a kind of zeitgeist--Lewis notes that this cor,sciousrtess

IC, S, Lewis, Eke Alleqpgy QE Love: A !i%gdp i~ wd&eqq& WaditioL (londoz: Oxford Uaiv, Press, 1936, 1958), p. 68, appears in the European tradition in Foman imperid t~mes,3 arid is related to the experierce of tempta:lor+, a cognizance of a failure to be mozaf.4

Sn pervasive through time is this experiezce, th3t even eighteen centufies later, Freud freguextly resorts to allegory and parable to explain his perception of the neurotic, divided consciousaess. Oc one such occasion, comparing an ego and its neuroses So an Arab riding a camel afocg a precipice, and representing the appearance of a confPict as a lion blocking the narrow path, Freud says the rider I*saw no way out, ..gut the animal thought otherwise., .[and took one leap with his rides into the dbyss." Freud then appends a "moraltt to the effec?thht igdealin~with a cocflict by forining symptoas [ ie, feapinq into

+he abyss] is after all an autoaatxc Frocess whrch canno? prove adequate to the demands of life, and in which the subject Bas abandoned the use of his best and highest powers, If there were a choice, it would be preferable to go down in an honourable struggle with fate,"" This is whar, the analyst facilitates, an honourable struggle. Though Freud lessens the extent to which a

3See also Sandison, pe size, p. 62 ox imperialism and personal relations,

*Lewis, 22 tit., pp. 53-61, Lewis1 formulation raises a number of problems, not Che least of which is his use of Rristotle as a riormative formulation of classic Greek tho1lght, On Aristotle see, ' Felix Grayeffis critical dssessme:it in his book, Aristot1e 2nd h&q School (New York: Barnes and Noble, 1974). ,1ivisit)~, in consciousness may be accurately available to perception, nevertheless, in speaking thus of the (potentially) neurotic state which is allegory's foundation acd fundamental subjet+, fread too remains wit3in the alkegoricaf tradizion, 6

Corisidere? as an allegory then, Wellsi tale is very little different from many more traditional cxamgles of the form,

Considered, for the reader as a kind of explanatior-, or exposure of the divided cocsciousness, iz seems to parailel Freud's attemp'ed total explanatiori in that it too places the root of the conflict in biology, in animal instincts still operating forcefully in our mental lives,

Izi his 3896 essay, HFlumac Evolution, An RrtificiaP

Processtf, Wells aqairi attaches theological. terms to his explanation acd, representing human biological inheritance as a

HPa3.aeoli$hic savagew, he opposes to him ncLvilizecl Manw and says, "Sin is the co~flictof [these] two facr,orst--as I have tried to convey in my fslppd qf Doctog Ho~eau.~?Speaking more directly of Uoreau, in the Preface to the 132Y qtlantic Editipp of the novel, he again mixes allegory and religion, "It is a theological grotesque,, ,the response of ar imagiuative aicd to

6The Editors of SE, however, list this passage and all such in the General Index (Y, XXIBf under +he heading +18nalogies", and they ignore the allegorical guality of the psychic ayencies, id, ego and super-ego, af together, the reminder that Humanity is but animal rough-hewn to a reasonable shdpe and in perpetual internal conflict between instinct and injunction, This stofy enbodies this ideal but apart from this embodiment it has no aflcgoricd quaiitymn*As f have tried briefly to demonstrate, such an *qinternal conflictH is the essence of allegory; in so far too as Freud's writings are c~tso much riqorously scientific as insightful observations, his formulations may be thonght of as allegorical.

But an allegory which sees the Beast Folk as an immature ego-id, one more or less stably naintair~adby the predations of

Moseau, who in turn becomes a hypertrophied super-ego, is an allegory which cannot very effectively deal with either the perceiving consciousness, Prendick, or with fciontgornery, his curious double, The best that my be done rs to array the charac'ers along that developmental line I hypothesized earlier,

This also shows to% closely related Precdick and Montgomery are, and demonstrates how the allegory encompasses them, first, uy postulating Bore. complicated, hence more psychologically real characters for them, and second, by postulating that each leans more towards one end of the array than the other, XD the main though, these two stand outside the stru~turebecause they seem to the reader more like persocs within everyday experience, Thus

eYefls, &LA a,, 8, 11, p, ix. The i~terestingthing about the first senter-ce is its echo of HamfeY's **Therelsa divinity that shapes our ends,/ bough-hew them how we willt1 fV, 2, 11. 30-13). they can cniy stand within the allegory by alliance to one or the other extreme, Moreau or the Beast Folk. This is partly what

I loeant hy sayicq these two characters were defized by their af ficities; Horeau f exempt fron affinities and this also applies, implicitly, +o the Beast People, who form the other half of the novel's most visible coctrast,

Now the reason why Prendick sorts so problematically within this framework is that, in true scienxific fasnion as She observer of the islarid universe, he exempts himself as much as he possibly can from participation in that which he observes, its society. Frolo the begining he distrusts and avwfioreau, . -- 4 he very quickly cuts-f off from Nontgoaery, and in t5e w- - s--_____--~ ecd--after a brief fling at *$rulingmthea--absolutely prohibits ---A himself any iflzercourse with the Beast folk, As an observer .---___ - --- - _- - --A Prendic~meTime Traveller, seeks to explain to the

/------____1__----- reador t~~valso describes, and at its rhetorical /__XIICCII---'-----..--.-.-.---,__--.------climawation passes over into all,egoty, "1 must ",- - --.._---_L_ ------.------.-. ------confessw he says, "I lost faith ir. the sanity pf thq world when 1 saw it suffering the painful disorder of this islandw (804: itafics added). The intention may only be to locate the island in the world, but the effect {especially when read with the paragraphs which bracket, the statement) is to make the island into t3e world, to make it an allegory 02 the world. Uhere

Pmndick bad believed the world saceiy ordered and harmonious he now sees that if it has any order then this proceeds from an irresponsible, indeed a ma3 dei+y, from the violent conflict sf tensed opposites equally brutalizing axd alike immovable.

Prendick thus observes only those ailegorical portions to which @ells* la-r comaenis also direct the reader; 2% macd is "a theological grotesquen, it deals with tke "perpetual internal conflict between instinct and injun~tion.~dut just as the Time Traveller's hysteria implicates him in the processes he

**objectivelya observes and describes, revenling aspects of his self he strives not to recog~ize, so too the divided consciousness which Prendick observes in the others9 exists in himself, notwithstanding his icsistence that zhe problem is external to him.

The ide~tificatioc of the Beast Polk with the ego alone cannot survive under these cor.ditions. Developing, therefore, from the first level of the allegory, wherein The id--Prendick8s flpassianu (104-5)--could be perceived functioning in all the charar%ers, is a second level of allegory, equally a psychomachia, which consigns almost all the functions of the id to the Beast Folk, Where the fJsst stems from Prendick8s perception of the island, the second stems from the reader's gradual perception of Prendickas observations and explanations and their lack of fittedaess to one another a2d to his own position as narrator, This is actually to put into operation

90bsorved by him in the Beast Folk mostly, but also to some extent in Moreau arid Montgomery, that process I spoke of earlies, whereby the reader must finally separate himself or herself from the tale's speaking voice. The explanation v hich Moreau provides, sherefore., can only sharpen

Prcnlick's Ifmorbid sclatel* ('IOr)), since it validates the bizarre f ieid-grourid perception (84) upon which Prendick bases his simultaneous recogxiition of the dual character of the Beast

People and refusal tc recognize them in himself, The day foliowing his interview with Woreau Prerdick saps, *#I awoke early, Moceau*s explanation stood before my mind clear and ilefinite, from the momeat of my awakening,. ,[ and it] filled me with a vague uncertaicty., ,that was far worse than any fedrf*

(871, This is what I maapt, %hen I said above that it can make no difference to Prendick, except emotionally, in which direction the knife of i40reauas explanation cuts since the basic perception is correct; men are but animals rough-hewn to a reasonable shape.

If I say then that the Beast Folk, for PrendPck, become equivalent to the power of the id, the next questions must be, what does Prendick conceive the animality of the Beast Folk to be, what is his attitude towards it? Again, these questions have already been largely answered in my earlier argument, Prendickts quest for the "calm authority of a reasonable soul" is the obverse of his fear of animality, of ucrestrained passion, His, rezationship to the Leopard Man is an emblem of this cotfrontation with the animal in himself and his relationship with Montgomery shadows forth a potential 4uman self, ac accornoda?.ion possible had Precdick nox restrained his "passionM.

He despises Hontgomery precisely because he, no>* once but ---_._"."_ ---- -/- continually, iigJves 1lrN to ariimdfity, rzoasorts with and

___I practi'scs>* ~rendick*s passion is by no means sl'mplm is ----L-c-.I rather made up of a cluster of related things; his childhood memories, feelings of terror, of hysterical passion, of helplessness, his visions of the Beast People--most often an eye-to-eye contact--these things are several times bundled together, Significa~t too is Prendick*~position of hidden ur unnoticed observer, this too being a frequent experience of children in an adult world, That Prendick should associate helplessness with ~emories of childhood (29) is not so surprising, but that a vision of M8Linq should also jog such memories perhaps is,

1 shrugqed my shoulders and turned away. Over the taffrail Peant a silent black figure, watching the stars. It was Eontgomery3s strange attendant, It looked over its shoulder quickly with my movemect,, then looked away aqaic, It may seem a little thing to you, perhaps, but it, came like a sudden blow to me. The only light near us was a lantern at the aheel. The creature's face was tusnea for one brief instant out of the dimness of the stern towards this illumination, and f saw that the eyes that glanced at me shone with a pale green light, I did not know then that a reddish luminosity, at least, is not uncommon in human eyes. The thing came to me as stark inhu~anity,That black figure, with its eyes of fire, struck down through all my adult thoughts and feelings, and for a moment the forgotten horrors of . childhood came back to nty mind, Then the effect passed as it had come, An uncouth black figure of a man, a Eigure of no particular importance, hung over the taffrail against the starlight, and I found Montgomery was speaki~gto me 124-5).

Notice +hat, ironically, M'Ling is Looking at the stars, ixdulging himself in the only activity in which, much later, %he ur. balance3 ~rendick finds sense of infinite peace and pro+ection" (IYI), but note also that the vision does not silrtgly recall his childhood to mind, but recalls specifically "the forgotten horrors of childhood@*,the lyreturn QE the repressedH.

The vision's being compared to **a sudden blowr' suggests again a child's-eye-view of the world, where "punishment is sharp and sure" and one must "therefore learn the Lawti (53). Horeau3s vision of the world, which he im~oses- on ?he Beast Folk, and which Prendick accepts, considered as a syste;&rflexible and ..- -'.a largely incomyrehende prohibitions, night also with justice be called -- c This re-emergence of childish terrors accounts for

Prendick *s feeling of having "seent3 BILing somewhere before, that he had '*already eacountered exactly the features and gestures that now amazed me, Afterwards it occured to iiic that probably I had seen him as I was lifted aboard, and that scarcely satisfied my suspicion of a previous dcguaintance, Pet how one could have set eyes upon so singular a face and have forqotte~the precise occasion passed my inaginationfl f 17) . This is another version of the fiefd/ground effect, utter s",raqqencss and yet of the strangest familiarity" (Y6), and a doubling too of Prendick's uncanny encounters with the Leopard

Man. Recall, in the first of those encounters, that iz is

Psendick's uhbidden memory of "a schoolboy expedient against big dogstr {50) which saves him from a mauling,

I2 the field-groucd effects then, Prendick recognizes not merely his self peering out from under the animdl veil, but recognizes his childish self, which he naturally associates with both unrestrained passion and the adul~squelching 05 such instinctual expression. The situation is made more complex by his standisq on each side of the recog~ition simultaneausfg as the punishing father and as the chastized child, the murder of the Leopard Mar being as well a self-punishment. childish traits appear too in Prendickis "objective" descriptions of the Beast

Folk. f n this respect, the sloth-creature--who has no recorded name, though it has a distinct individuality--is particularly interesting, since it is described as '+a dim pinkish thing, looking more like a flayed child than anything else in the worldt* (63) and is almosi, entirely wordless. After the final catastrophe says Prendick, '$1the j little pirk sloth creature displayed an odd affection for me, and took to following Be abouti9 (132). It is this beast who informs Prendick of the murder of his "canine friendw, the Dog Mar? (135). The psohibitions which the Law enjoics too relate largely to, abstention from infactile pleasures, ~otto go on all fours, aot to suck up drink. No doubt the "maddest, most impossible, and most indecenlt thinqs one could well imagine1* (65) as La~s, include bowel control and correct choice of sexual objects, two primary goals sf the process whereby children are differentiated into adults. As the Beast Folk revert, therefore, %hey lose those abilities which are not so much specifically human as specifically adult, language, upright carriage, continence, sub1imation.

The relation of the other characters to Prendick, considered as apsects of himself, fragmented and redistributed over the island landscape, shows clear parallels to the respective positions of Morlocks and Eloi, and the Time

Traveller, Again, there are two major locations in the novel, the House of Pah set up on a hill and the hovels of the Beast

Folk, hiaden down in a gloomy gulley, upper and Lower regions tangentially related-if we consider the island as a kind of parabolic colonial venture--to upper and lower classest whites and natives. It could be too that the Beast Polk represe3t for

Prendick, as the florlocks and the Elod represent: for the

Traveller, ari incoaplete sexuality which he hysterically rejects not because he has grown beyond its limitations but because he remains frozen at exactly that point in his development. The first level of the allegory (inszinci, versus injunction) may also be read icto Time Rdchine, such thatthe Morlocks and,

Eloi togexher make up an id figure, the former embodying the destructive principle, the lat+er embodyinq Xzos. to In tnis reading the Time Traveller would be assigned the role of combined ego-super-ego, a relatively tealthy scate; and a look at the novel shows +hat he is ir, fact much niore successfu: %ha@

Prendick in maintaini~g, aT; the last, his emotional equilibr~uiu, deserting the present for '+the manhood of the raceu (ZTE, 335).

Prendick's relations vith the Beast Folk too show a minor parallel to those of the Traveller with the Eloi, the latter's ambiguous "miniature flirtationw with Weena being recalled in

Prendicki s ambiguous notdtion that **the quasi-human intimacy I had permitted myself with some of %hem in the first months of my loneliness became a horroj: Co recallv (133). fn short, tke relation of the two novels to one another is that they tell, roughly, the saw story, expose the same problem, As the Ti&@

Travellt3rts feelir,g, upon his return from the future, that it is the present that is the dreamlike reality, is matched by

Prendickas beastly visio~s in Lorador,, so the Travdf ezYs directions to his audience--"take it as a lie or a prophecy, or say I dreamed iz in my workshopw--may be applied to Prendick8s tale. ------_------IoThis is only a tentative identification and should in no way be considered a substitute for a full discussion of g&g Tke ------Hachice, and the possi~ilityof identifications oeing developed relative to the framework of such a discussion, I should also note at this point that Frcudas theory of the instincts, and the oppose,J principles of destructiveness and Eros, is for me the weakest part of his total work, si~ceit explains too much too easily, Taking it as Preridickis dream it is of interest to note the

following passage in Freud's (1900) fgt,zypretatiog of ,,,,,Dreans I which seems to sum up several of the possibilities I have explored here. "Wild beaszs", says Precd, "are as a rule employed by the dream-work to represent passionate impulses of

whicn the dreamer is afraid, whether they are his own or those

~f other people.. ,It might be said that the wild beasts are used

to represent the libido, a force often dreaded by the ego and combatted by means of repression. It often happens too, that the dreamer separates off his neurosis, his 'sick personalitys, from himself and depicts it as an independent persori. $+lL

Taking the Tale as Prendick9s prophecy, the tsuth of its

import may be gauged by the streogth of the responses of

Prendickis first auditors, who judge it a mad fie (l39-4Q), and

by the overwhelmingly hostile responses of #ells* reviewers, who

judged it an obscene and blasphemous libel on nature both human

and divine. They were, moreover, genuinely puzzled why Hells should want to indulge himself in [so they considered. it) such

wanton gruesomeness. 12

'%Freud, Dreams, 233, V, V, p, 410, This passage was added to ------Dreams by Freud in the 19 38 edition, See also Jung, cif-, , l75/lO3, on demons: '"from the psychological point of view demons are 2othing other than inturders from the vnconscious coaplexes into the continuity of the conscious process. ,,It is., .pzecisely, the fantastic element that becomes assixiaced in the unconsciuus with the repreSsed functionsWN

i2finonymous review of gqreau in rhg rimes, 17 June 1896, p. 17: ".,,we feel bound,, .to give a word of warning +.a the One sgspects zhat in this their attitude is close to Preudickts, that thoy could have supported themselves well enough occupying the room next to a11 the paio in the universe, given it be only dtrmh. TCe apparent shuck produced by +he hook betrays some of

'he reviewers into interestingly a~tbiguous statemects, Two reviewers connect the horrors of the novel to some supposed

"horrorsva of sexual ityl3 and another says that "[this j curious faatasy.. .is intrinsically horrible. The im~ressionr; [ it

12(cont'd)unsuspecting who would shrink from the loathsome and repulsive. This novel is the strongest exanpie we have met of the perverse guest after anything ic any shape that is freshly sensa5onal.,.The ghastly fancies are likely to haunt and cling, and so the book should be kept out of the way of young people and avoided by all, who have good taste, good feeling,. or feeble nerves," See also Patrick Parrinder (Ed,), ff, F, Wells: --The CEhtlcal Heritaqe (London: Routledqe and Kegan Paul., 19721, p, $4, review by Zhalmers flitchell in Saturdar Eeview (1331, 13 April 1836, pp, 308-9: f*.,.the author, during the incept~onof his story, like his own creatures, has tasted blood. The usorious interest began when the author, not content with the korfor inevitable in his idea, and yet congrnous with the fine work he has given us hitherto, sought out revolting details with the zeal of a sanitary inspector probi~ga crosded g~aveyard.~ 13Parrinder, 2~ cis., p, 50, citing an unsigned review in -S~eaker ----- (13). 18 April 1836, pp. 429-30: ++#eshoulu 'nave rhought it impossible for any work of fictior to surpdss in gruesome horror some of the recent problem-novels relating to the great sexual question which have been recently published, if we had not read T'g Island Doctor goreau, by H. G, Pells. Having read i?, we are bound to admit that there are still lower depths of nastiness, and still cruder aanifestatians of fantastic imbeciliry tCac any attained by the ladies who have been so much with us in recent years." Parricder also cites, p. 52, an unsigned review ir. Athenaeum, 3 Yay 1835, 2p. 615-36, by Basil Kill iams, whd notes thdt though some have tried to excuse the book on the grounds that it would tetd to help suppress vivisection, "from that poinx of vieu...[it j would be about as valuable., ,as a pornolwgicaP story in suppressing immoralicylft er.gendcrsf should not be put to the test of analysis or reflection, AS it is, they grip tke mind witk a painful interest and a fearful curio~ity,~?l*The reviewer senses the emotional chnrqe at the heart cf the narrative and fears that to lay in acy +rain toward it would be dangerous, 1 viould say that this is indeed the nature of Prendick8s "prophecyf4 in that the events of the main narrative reveal a truth about humanity Prendick cannot assimilate, though the materials for assimilatioo are present,

Like him, the reviewers reject the radical therapy the novel can offer. The visiocs in London, coupled with Prendick's earlier reflections on the Law, constitute the core of the revelation and in those visions the allegory extends the novel into the worl.3 of the reader. This may go some way towards explaining the redctions of critics for whom ~ells*ostensiale them2 {men frequently act like brutes) was no real novelty, XIII. The Island f ii]

I noted earlier that the island might representatively house either one [isolated) socie'y or a society of one isolated individual, In unrave1I.ing the allegory in 4urf,tau, it is possible to assign to -the various units of ?.he one society on

"he island the roles and functions of agencies presumed operative in any one psyche, thus, collapsing the distinction.

The island, therefore, represents both these potentialities at once, Man, and Man's Society. This was to be expected if as I said, the characters represect a fragme~tdtior of the hero's self, the constituen? portions of which he has the greatest

,2iffic?ll$y ir, corr,ir,q to terms wi",.. While I have given the latter meanir-g pxide of place, it is only an implicit subject;

Hells' explicit subject and hie constant concern, through a19 his working life, wns Plan's Society, whether in the fantastic guise of romance or the drab homespun of naturalism, One of the reames %he romance hero experiences such difficulties may be traced xo his attempt to preserve as an ideally whole self o~iy 0 one of those fragments, his rationality. This too seems to be echoed ic the setticg, which ~rovides, usually through polarization, a geoy raphic division of livable regions, on1y one' of which the hero chooses as his dwelling place, though he ictuuit that his choice is soaehow eccentric.

Though the island contains distinctly separdted reqions, yet it is a whole and easily perceived as such. The setting, therefore I have called bo5h nrena and island, reflecting these two potectials, division and unification, Vhffe arena suggests

-kc hero's self-conflict, island implies a unity and centraiity available to the 5ero but, vflich he cannot achieve. Could he achieve it, of course, the result uouid be the creation of a uAopia, a state whose e~ergiesare disected towards the definirion of those social circumstances in which .the ideally constituted iridividual may flourish. f said earlier that Roreau acts as a structuring notion1 and said too that his pursuit was of an ideal human image, a double of himself. The i3east Folk he creates are in fdct very human, but the ~edderis easily tooled - i - -I into thinking of "hem primarily as beasts simply because zhey do .A ------"- zlot measure up to #oreauys (or Prendick's) standard+ of .S-. -llll^l---- -__--."------" humanity. e40reau4s desire to quash animality is idenricaf_ w_&tsfi a --.. ~ ------__X_-_------" p-II.X_L -- desire to make a new and better kind of human ~eingand this is

---" --.--..------em------7 3 utogian-- enterprise, defining the ideal constitution of a I-----___ 0 - - - human. - owever, is based oz the concept-- -- of ___-_1_.----- nature as a system of inflexible laws, the a~oCheosisof reaeon, an exaltation of one limited humac value, albeit one Ploreau

------_-----*---- t5,lrnilar to the notion uf a cul?tlre of '*doers" around uhich wells s3ructurrd 2%~zgge Hachirbg; see also chapter ten, n. 8 of %he present paper, possesses to an extraordinarily hiqh degree. In this Horeau shows himself to be a very Victoriaz gentleman, for as Houghton says Pn Cis TPg Victorian Frame of zind, the ~ictorianswere "in general cotnmitted to the concept of absolute iawu, whether derived Erom "ancient philosophy and neEieval theologyM or from

"modern., ,scientific rhough-t, reaching out from the physical order to discover the analogous laws of moral, social, and mental life,?** The stsuczuring notion at the heart of Moreqq too, in so far as it is utopiar, is also contemporaneous, and beinq framed in *9present" time the teaisior. berween the "realw and projected societies (that is, bc+ween L~ndon and Noble's

Island) is much greater, the consequences for ~rendickmore dire than +hose suffered by the Time Traveller, This interplay between individual and sociai meanings is also reflect.ed ir; the minor settings of the novel, the three-man longboa?, the schooner Ipecacuach~,the House of Pain, and the island after Moreau3s death, In all of these small societies are depicted and in all Giells shows the inability of the society to hold itself together, There is a co~sistenttendency for the coris~i+.uenturits +o fly apart, visible even in Preakdick himself in his locg lonely sojourn on the island, This tendency to disintegration, however, is to be expected if one considers ------zhlal+er E, Ifoughtor., ghg Victorian Frame gf Bird: 1830-1B70 (New Havez: Yale Univ. Press, l957), p. 145, Many of Boughton's conclusioris remain valid for the la+,er Victorian age, Prendick a typological character, a represex~tative fate

Victorian individual., given the disintegration prevailing everywhere eise in the novel. Thus, though whec interpreting the allegory I saw the island as mind--or if you prefer, as nature, or the id, from which evolution differentiated the psychic aqencies--it is apparent that it could just as well be seen as a society, and that just as d personality may be described as if it were a small society, so one may dissect a society in terms of its projected ideal personality,

In the archipelago of Wells1 scientific romances, few of the isles are utopian, "blessedu as the drunken Davis says.

Indeed, the fuller context of Ddvis8 ~tatenent--~*I~vedone with this blessed island for evermore amen? I've had eaough of it*'

(27)--s'ns~s &hi?% the evocation of the Arisulge hrtunae is intentionally ironic. In European Literature general1 y, the isolated island way be thought of as a development of the walled off, paradisical garden, DU?. nn Wells' scientific romances, the setticgls isolatioc only succeeds in bringing to the fore its anti-utopiar., demonic potential. The setting slowif disin'egrates into an inferno, a possibility emphasized in ------Moreau by the volcanic nature of the island and by its vibrating +'[now] and the~[to] a fair-f, quiver of eazthquake" (88). Even the provincially English, gardea-like landscape of Thg gay qf ttig aorld~has concealed within itself an inferno, one revealed by the pillaging Bartians, who afterwards seed "he exposed aaturai landscape with their onz exotic fauna, The heso of that novel, like mth Pserdick a~dthe Time Traveller, must speedily adap5 himself to the exotic la~dscape,and in this process of acclimatization, vhich is also a realrza*ion of his own estrange~ent from +he setting, the hero Decomes aware that the exoticism is both the suggestion and :he appearance of a mystery co~cealed beneath the surface patterns of the island" social interactions, Thc unwinding of the mystery, which the hero feels impelled to undertake, is of course also the revelation of his own conflict, and thus is matched by an increasing disintegratior. of the hero, which again runs parallel to the disintegration, or provoking of a violent crisis within the isfard's society, In The gay 05 the Worlds the crisis takes over aimst the entire subject of the book; the setting as arena shows that the utopia of the sciestific romaaces is in geceraP inverted, The hero9s being cast away uz the island shows that his supposed maturity is skill open to question. Gaining at last 0 this minimum of self-knowledge, the solution of both Prendick and the Time Traveller is to disentangle themselves, to withdraw to contemplate "the giitterisg hosts of heaven" (14 1).

It is possible then to distinguish in Island of Qy, -----Noredu a four-fold allegory, though none of these Nmeaningsfl exists independently of ~heothers, nor at all very distinctly, bu.t iri fact, all. are coliapsed in", oon another, It may be thouqht of firstly as (in Wellsv terms) a theological yro%sguue4f with Eoreau standing in for the ~hristiangod in his aspect ~f saviour, Moreau gives the animals (sincers) a perverse salvation {humari characteristics). Prendick acts out the sole of

Peter by first denying Moreau, then larer accepti~g him,

Prenaick also tries to take over Moreduts authority, tries to - -- /-_I____- become ttle leader of the brethren, by ~ecor~stitutinyMoreau*~ ,--- _2__ dea+h as a parodic assumptio~ prefisuring a resureection and *--- -- _ - - last judgement. It may be tbought of secondly as a scientific -d allegory, with Mreau as the persocification of whatever shaping force in evolution has rough hewn men from out their animal origins, The extent to which these two levels of the aLfeqory interpecetrate shows to how great an ex'ent, for Pelis as for his teacher, Huxley, the content of their ostensibly despised religion Eiowed tack into the mould of their scientific thought.

It may be thirdly psychological, in that Prendickts possible assimilated maturity is foreshadowe8 in his confhicts with the various ''characters" on the island, who here represeat the parts of his psyche, and it may be fourthly cultural, in that

Pradick*s conf ficts-as a representative fate Victorian

Man--are representative of those found in many if not mst individuals in his culture, These two latter levels of the allegory, again, interpenetrate to a high degree, XPV. Darwinian Evolution in Freud and Wells

What emerges here is ?hat ii a sense, the texts of Freud

and Hells arc convergett, They meet f.ot on1 y in terms of their

descriptions of a represer-tative late Victorian l'WanJi, but also

in their choice of rhetorical strategies, ddaptations of the allegorical method, The convergence may be most clearly seen,

however, in tkeir uses of Dar wi~iar,biology, which underpins the method~loqiesof both texts, Evoluzion is take^ By both Freud and Wells, first as a fact, and second as impfying that the

hurncin achievement (culture) is at the mercy of the -.unstable ,, forces which first- created it [nature), The representative of that potcntialiy dangerous rature iu huaacs is, for Freud, tne

id, which is ocefs biplogical inherita~ce,+.he animal side of humanity, the subs*ratum of pure instificts shared by humari and animal alike, a The "higher" animals, indeed, must share with humanity a closely similar mental organizatio~, Thus it is ------1Freud (3938), "Outlineu, pp, 4, 13. 0ri the connectedness of the human and animl realms see also Freud (19331, "ghy War?'+, zgr U. XXII, p. 204, and Preud (l924). "The Resistances to Psycho-Analysisn, 33, V. XIX, pp, 219-22 and see also Ernest Jones, The Lhfg gad Work gf sgqmund Freud fNeo York: ~asic Books, l95i'), V, 111, pp, 302-14, Jones is vague on Freud's precise biological scurcebooks, but Haeckel seems a likely candidate, and of course, Darwin himself, A less explicit reference may be be feud ic Freud (l'323), givillzat&sri &2 Ilisconte~Lg,n?Lt 17, p. 60. through the "higheru and reaching its terminus in %an. In this

schema, t%e more evolved an animal is the 0 huaanized it

becomes and the more submerged its id becomes, Evolution is

therefore equated with an increasi~.gteadency to dispense with

the id, or, sixe this is not really possible, to res%rict. its

+#approaches to motilityu,z ef fectively sugpressing it. 3

Education repeats this evolutiunary process, ontogenp

recapitulating phylogeny. Q Humans are slotted into their

respective cultural settings by the redirectioc of id de~ands, in other words, by sublimation,

1~ acf 1s' novel, this is the function~fMoreau*s Law, to

of Moreau's Law represents the victory of edgcation over ----__---.------^--- --___=. ------ingsbct. Yet the need for the very existence of the Law

represents the incom~letenessof the process by which the Folk are extracted from the Beasts. The Beast Folks* fear of Moreau,

3Freud { 1913), gq2gg qzg Taboo, Sg, V XIfI, p, 97, See also Freud (1929), Civilization aBd its Disconterits, Ji?& 17, gp. 17, 71,

4Freud (13381, "Ou?line", &u 35, p, 42, The concept is me of ' Freud+s main theoretical underpinnings and references to it nay be found throughout his wxks, 1s derives 3riginafly from Naeckel, which he cultivates, keeps them moreover, dependent on him, so ------<------C that their socralxzat~onard individuation remains uncompleted.

~ht; oppo~itionbetween the instinc?ual cravings of the childish

r--% /---- - Beasfl~olkandj-the cult-ure which the satriarchaf Yoreau imposes .. __--- e-- - \ upon them--.a cli;tture inade up almost entirely of neqations-is /------__. - - thus aiade unusually sharp axd clear-cut. Notice too that Wells

_lll_._l___ / - not only pfesects this opposition between "cult~re*~and "nature" _-_--- /--- (as does Freud) as an internal, mental. process, but that --. --. ------muck fr8ift- it as the Beast Folk,

For both Freud and Wells then, the human personality cdn establish itself ocly by constantly aiaintdininy a barrier of repression against the "lowerf*, or less evalved parts of itself,

What this amounts ?o is, as historian Lcszek Koiakowski has said, a system that may be fairly descrioed as embodyiug a belief in %he wdemonology of is+stimtu,sIx asserts that the

"primitiveM pacts of the psyche, hostile and opposed like a sullen class of servitors to the "higherw mind, must somehow be controlled if an individual is to funccion either for its self-benefit or as a member of a social unit.6

SLcszek Kolakowski, "The Psychoacalytic Theory of CultureH, in Robert aoyers [Ed.), Psycholoyical &iz (New York: Harper and Row [Colophon], 19751, pp. 27-56. Quotat,ion is •’run: p. 56. Trans, by Michael Hoctgomery, Article copyright 1967, Leszek Kolakouski.

6Freud (l332), "My Contact with Joseph Popper-Lynkeusfq, 23, Y, 'XXfI, p, 221; "For our mind, that precious instrument by vhose means we naisCain ourselves in life, is no peacefully self-cor,tained unizy. It is rather to be co~apdsed with a modem state in which a mob, eager for e~joymentan3 destruction, has In the kreudiar modei of persoriaiity then, no less than in ae:lzl allegory, endo-psychic relatiocs are piccured as somewhat precdrious. The rrodel assumes that in shifting alliances power qroups ma2ipulats sensations, both external 2nd internaf, each in order to better its position at the expense of the others in a kind of psychic Hobbesian war of each against all.

The primary Freudian model, therefore, is already politicized and this accounts for the ease with which, in his later writizys, Freud is able to extrude such a compelling sociology, or rather, a group psychology, f tom his original model-of the personality. Really i: is a development of the familiar metaphor cf the body politic, first internalized to rnodel :he humar: ~ersonality ma later retrieived to model a pessimistic sociology, Just as in %elis*novel, su ic Freud, tho afleqory of cr.do-psychic relations also serves to model the relationships of individuals to their broader social context, and 3e hostifity genetically irnplar,ted in each individual characterizes and vexpiainsw these social relations. The

-----I------6(cont9d)to be held down by a prudent superior class,H The passages immediately following, too lengthy to be quoted here, extend the ramifications of tSe statene~t;the mob equals zhe instincts. At. the close of the essay, after calling Popper a **siinple-minded, great mant1, Freud says that he "reflected much over the rights of the individual which he ~Popperladvocated and to which I should have fsicf gladly added my support had I not been restrained by the ?%ought that xeither the processes of Na%ure nor the aims of human society quite justified such a cfainfi (22Y). The sullen servitors are also imrlied in others of Freud's uses of the state aetaphor, relationshi? of the ruled to thnir rulers is already mapped in detail in the descriptio~ of the reiatio~s ~etween psychic aqe3cit3sr

I+ should be ~oted, of course, tkat these formulatioss thouqh examined here in the works of Freud and Wells, are the common stock-in-trade of late nineteent5 century thought, no less in their adoption of Darwinia~ beliefs than in their pessimistic attitude toward those beliefs. The older belief in

God-directed bereficent nature vaaishes with Darwin's explosion of ictentionality; in its place is a reaffirmation of natural. law, without a guidiug intelligence but having nevertheless the capacity to ~akeitself. HeCce the creatioc of nature as a sovereign force, extremely powerful and absolutefy i~bplacable,

Wydinst this both Freud and delis, at oze with many of: their conte~poraries, oppose ego, or will. Freud's psychology aims at the szrengtheninq of the ego and t-herefore it cannot help but see the unt rammelled instincts as thseater-ing.

Prendicbrs identification of the totality of hunan-ness and self-hood with abstract reason is a response to a similarly perceived threat.

As Presdick discovers with the Beast Folk, however, bridling the instincts ocfy makes them the more clamorous in their demands for self-expressioa, makes them into imps of, destruction. If one believes too that one has evolved, but that the nat*iral beast is still active viithin, then both one's society and one's persocai situation sepm not osfy tenuous

achievements but also liable to collapse, and for reasoEs

'otally outside the control of either oneself or one's society,

The mortal blow Darwinism dealt the institutions of religion

consisted in Its (largely successfui) attempts to disperse the

componenzs of a structure uithin which law and desire, dnd con:rol of oneSs proximate fate, were recog~izedand valida+ed,

Huxley 's famous lecture on wEvolution and EthP~s*~7is nothinq

less than an effort to reasseabfe the scattered body of

Christian ethics by an act of the will alone; as before,

humanity's ultimate fate remains out of its hands, but through

willed ethical action, says Huxley, at least a decent social

order may be battled away from nature, some small garden in the

wilderness may be rnaintainei3.a Just so is Prendlckis life oack

in Exgland based on an effort of "he will, He attains an

incomplete salvation through self-identification with cosmic

urialterahle law only by rigid exclusion from human contacts, In

this, interestingly, Prendick says he is 4tmlghtily helpedH by

having told his tale ("confided my casef8 is how he puts it)

a strangely able ma...a mental speciaiisr,?' (143). His

7Thomas Henry Huxley, 44Evolutionand Ethicsu, in V, IX of his @&&ected Essays (New York: Appleton, 1902; facsimile reprint, Mew York: Greenwood Press, 1368), pp. 46-86, Origi~,aZly delivered as the second Romanes lecture, Oxford 1853.

8The metaphor is from Huxleyis liPrologotnenaif to t'ne essay, also in V, IX, pp, 1-Q5. The two parts were issued together ia 1834 as a booklet, specialist and he--and perhaps Hells had heard of the Viennese alienistts l'tal~ingcure"--band toqether to placate +,he demons.

Considered as a "demorology of instinczw, Freud4s scienLif ic psychology Bay be said (agaic ic Xolakowski*s words) ao have attempted to forge "the moral i4iosyncrasies of the

Vicyoriar, age into an eternal law of ci~iiization.'~~In this he concurs with Jungis acerbic comment that "in keeping vith the spirit of the age iFreudf restricted himself to the investigation of iastinctive mechanisms and., ,sarrowed the picture of man t.0 the wholeness of a2 esseu~ially'bourgeois* collective person. 0

Both authors ke1ieve, the^, that they are describi~gthe essential, universal Ran, Yet givec the fact of closely parallel descriptions it seems far easier to assume that In an attempt to

10~3%the pathology of their own times both in fact allegorize

$he Man of their contemporary, shared culture.

Perhaps too, through similar rhetorical strategies, each author hopes to locate his own portion of that pathology, or rat3er, define a stance for himself in relation to it. In so doing, of course, possible attitudes for each member of their

-o------91bid,, pp. 52-3. There are problems with KoZakowskias argument. One, for example is that it often seems to verge on mere character assassi~atioc,and another is that it remains determinedly unaware that some of its terms could not have been constituted save ir a post-Freudian world, respective audie~ccsare tested for fitness. ghat exactly is the refation of tnese icdividual authors to the generalized Plan, of the culture, that radically divided creature who bulks so large in their icvestigations into his twin status, first as animal, "-- -,--".------___ _ then as citizen? In Freud's case my command of the sources is _ ,J not ceTfAic enough to do anythir'g more than offer a tentative observation that ?rcudls Ran i~teriorizespolitics and uses the impossibility of a stable politics of self-knowledge to support a prior belief in the dominance of his animal instincts,

For both Freud aad Wells, ?be 3890ts were an emotionally ,N------turbulent time, their lives not "settling downu until after the / -P_p__l llJl turn of the ceritury when public acclaim assured each of ---'-? -____LC--- continued success, 1 Xn Wells1 case the conflict mediated ------thcoaq_-C----;--r h fils scieace-fictioc noveis were, intellectually, develope3 from his schooling at the Normal School of Science in

South Kensington 11884-87). From Veils' biographies, his own and those by Lovat Dickinson arid by Norman and Jeanne BacKenzie, it seems clear that the cozflict rested on assump%ions, ways of seeing the wosld, which Wells never closely examined except in

his romances; and i%rrest.s in ~atticularon an exaggerated

notioc of Man's innate qualities as tendicg towards destruction, The atatus of his romances as fietior-s thus ecabled Wells to come to grips with his troubled emotional fife without the

~ecei;si",y of applying their shadowed assimila+ions immediate1y to hiaself. Tn the end he chose cot fn confrm~himself but simply so al-r the relative weight of the terms; society is the - root cause uf Hanas sorrows, therefore, change ik, make a technocratic utopia and a seger&erated Man will na-urally foilow.

The alteratior of society, however, proved a harder task thdn either #ells or his coctemporaries--who were for a time captivated by his visions--seem ever to have imagined when he first set thls as his aim with the publication of apticieqgioqp i3 1901. Yet that it was an impossible Task skould not really have surprised Bells, for as his own gqr of $he #orl&

(1 838) ha9 claimed, techno1ogica1 povei:, logically achievzd through science, does not alter Wan's innately destructive tendencies but nere3.y amplifies their effects, In his later works Wells achieves the utopian state by first allowing animality wedded to technology f uil scope; asmayeddon occurs, followed by a~ocalypse: the bad old world is destroyed in a rain of fire and ail the bad old leaders with it, Left to pick up the pieces are the technocrats. The cegative consequences of science and technology havi1.u been tried asd found wdntiay, logically speaking nothing is left but to try and implement the positive consequences; enter, stage right, the millernial kingdom, If all this seems to have a biblical ring it is oecause the

pattern of the apocalypse and millennium is drawn from Christian eschatslogical hopes and visions of the Day of Judgement, 12

Fundamentally, Yells* is a Chsistiar, vision, though not

Christian in ax orthodox sense. The belief in #an's innate

destructiveness has its zoo+s, in ~eils, in d Cdlvi~ist conviction of the ineradicability of original sin, which wells

apparently Icarned from his mother. ' 3 Wellsi %other not only taught hint the elements of the creed (Together with his letters

12Norma~Cohn, us Pursuit pg jAg 4illeznnium (New York: Oxford Univ, Press, 2nd, revised ed,, 3970), pp, 20-23, The pattxn, says Cohn, is one comaon to both the Jewish and Christian traditions, aad the particular patterr- in Wells is dated to roughly 165 BC, the time of the writiag of the Book of Daniel, In the middle aqes, +he particular site of Cobn9s study, such millenial expectations flourished pximazily among the workizg classes dnd outside the ortkodox chan,neis of belief, During the Reformation versions of these ntilferaial fantasies acquired the starus, within some of the new sects, of orthodoxy. Bells ahs~rbedthe factasies through his motheris teachings, on which see following note.

l3Normdn and Jea~neHacKerrzie, 22 czt., p, 23: ushe [Sarah !dells] came from d family of Ulster Proxestants, cjiven to a strain of belief much more severe thar. the body of the Anglicar church in England and more inclined to a fundamentalist view of revealed religionO3*No iudependent authority is given for: this statement but the MacKenzies also note (23-4) that Hellsg having rea3 Bunyan's Pilqrimts Progress, and havir.9 too various other Lon Church theological works available to him acc~untsfor fat the least,) his evidect familiariiy with the apocalyptic tradition, especially when added to his mother's teachings, Wells himself says that his mot_her*s religion '*was Low Church, and I was disposed to find, even i~ my tender years, Low Church theology a little too stiff for me,.." , p 23). The Low Chnrch branch of the Church of Enyiar~diz identified nith the Evangelicals of the late eighteexch, cextury, who tended to be Cal~i~istic. arid numbers) kut inspired his whole upbringing with a religious atmosphere. Kelfs had great difficulty in breaking free both from this and his motherTs well-inteLtioced efforts to f*pface" him ifi various Ciraper y enporia, fro^ his Expsrimenf, Ax ------Aut,obioqrd~hy -- (3-334) it is ciear that queszions of salvation a~d damna"on--and these are Calvinist concerns--vexed him a great deal, until about 1882, when he experienced what might be called

It was iz the course of a revivalist mission and I had been persuaded to go with one of the costume roow assistants who played elder sister to me, The theme was the extraordinary merit of Our Saviour's sacrifice and zCe horror and torment of hell from which he had saved the elect. The 1;reacher had a fluting voice and a faintly foreiqn accent, a fine impassioned white face, burning eyes and self-conscious hdcds, He was enjoying himself thoroughly, He spared us nothing of hell's dreadfulness.. ,For a little while his acco~plished volu~ility carried me with him and then my mind brorte into amazement acd contempt, This was my old childish nightmare of God and the wheel; this was the sort of thing to scare ten year olds. 1 looked at the inaent faces about me, at the quiet qravi" oof my friend and again at this gesticulating voluble figure in the pulpit, earnest, intensely earnest--for his effect. Did this actor believe a word of the preposterous monstrosities he was pouring oat? ...What was the clue to the marifest deep satisfaczion, the fearful satisfactios of the bciievers about me? Vhat ha5 got hold of them? .. A real fear of Christianity assailed me, It was not s joke; it was nothing funny as the pseethirkey pretended. I+ was something immensely formidable. It was a cremen3ous human fact. We, the still congregation, were spread over ?he floor, not one of us daring to cry nut against this fellow's threats, Most of us in some qrozesque way seemed to like the dreadful stuff. t4 The threat of hell was being used to discipline, exactly as

sister (possy, who had died in 1864, aged nine, two years before

Bertle*s birth), "a prodigy of Early Piety*',

I was indeed [said Wells] a prodigy of Early Impiety, I was scared by Hell, T did not at first guestion the existence of Our Eather, but no fear or terror could prevent my feeling that his All Seeing Eye was that of an Old Sneak acd that the Atonement for which I had to be so grateful was either an imposture, a sham trick of self-immolation, or a crazy nightmare,, .There was a time whet I believed in the story and scheme of salvation, so far as I could understa~dit;, just as there was a Limn when I believed there was a Devil, kut there was never a time uhen T did not heartiiy detest the whole business. I feared Hell dreadfully for some time,, ,But one night I had a dream of Hell so preposterous that it blasted that ur~desireableresort out of my mind for ever, In ar old number of Chambq Jouz-gal f had read of the punishment of breaking a mdc ox the wheel. The horfor of it qot into my dreams and tkere was Our father in a particularly malignant phase, ~usybasting a poor broke2 sicn~r rotating slowly over a fire built under the wheel..,That dream pursued me icto the daytime, Nevcr had I hated God so intensely, 15

Yet Wells3 mother had also, curiously, wishheld -his Hell from him. He notes that in an old devotioral book ir the house,

f there1 was a picture.. .obliterated with stamp paper, and so provoking investigation, chat had mother been 5idiny from me? By holding the page up Fo the llyht E discovered the censored illustraoiun represenzed hel1-f ire; devil, pitchfork and damned, af i complete and drawn with great gusto, '6 There is 3 complex overlapping of affiraation and denial in all this that indicates an almost obssessive dudlity in Wellsq reliqious questio~ings. His mother frightened him with hell (it

W~Sflg~>r,td enoughSi, he says, '*to scare me acd prevent mc cailinc?. ei+her of my [elder] brothers fools, rz~ti.1 I was eleven or twelve,, ,"17), yet she also sougni, word2essly, to protect him from it, thus increasing his sense of its terribleness, He reports s nightmare so horrifying that it passes over into absurdity, again a process of affirmation and denial, He claiiris too that because of this dream, **suddenly the light brake thr~ugh to mi? and T knew this God was a lie.fi18 Yet five years later he was ssili vexed enough by fedrs of damnation to need, emotionally speaking, a secord closely similar Sqilluminationea

In each c?se wells reports a profound terror, frrst of God (whom he "hated.. ,intenselyw). later of the persuasiveness of God's agents, In the later conversion experience Wells feels himself to be suddenly isolated from evesyone around him, they believing and he not, The peculiar subjective intensity of that experience, of beiag saved from religioc whilst all around him were still co~demnedto suffer it, is aa echo in reverse of a

Calvinistic emphasis on the ucbridgeable gulf that divides the elect from the dammd. In most forms of Christian belief oriyixal sin may he, if not expunged, ther- at :east diminished ir. regard za oneself by cultivating virtue ar,d eschewing sin. Some versions of

Calainis~,houever, anneal Calvin's ~ystical doctrine of ?he elect into a spiritual caste system, witt only the elect saved, the resz ineluctably damned and no act, good or bad, capable of altering one's fate. 19

This doctrine, or a version of it, was the one Wells learned as a child and it had irrrportacr consequences for: his later beliefs, no less than for the strucTure of his writings,

The Cafvinistic structure of damnation appears aqain in Wellst evolu+ionary thinking, and in his zecipes for social a~elioratioc. Those who create the future, the +echnocrats, are dnaidgous to zhe elect, it is thus morally of no consequence that it gas they who firs% placed the machineries of death in the hands of the damned, they remair. the elect, the savicg rennmt. The others, those still skack2ed to the Pala@olithic savage withln themselves, these are the damced, and the proof of is lies in their use of the powers le~tthem by the elect,

These latter rhen, are identified as those who have forsworn their earthly inheritance, having ideaL ified themselves as evolved beings, those who have dispensed with or effective1y ------19Thi.s particular variact of Calvi~ismstenis from one of Galvic4s followers, Beza, whose version of the faith was enshrineJ in the decisiori of the Synod of Dort (3618-13) that Cbrist had died only for the elect, Evolutioc" and Haorals and ~ivilitatiun~,Wells qses so far as to identify oriqinal sir with an ictuition on the part of t3eolo~ians of the geruine and original split in Man's natur~, that betueen kis ar.imal and his civic selves. One uould expect, therefore, as the corollary to this evo;utiorAary election, :he depiction of prehistoric humans as bloodthirsty savayez, and this is in facfihow Wells draws them. This is as true, moreover, of his scientific romances as it is of his p.&line of History

{I 92O), where the Neanderthals are portrayed, in text and with lurid accompariyicg pictures, as far more tigerish than

which 3cfls Loped to recapture the spirit of the early roiiidnces,zl an evil spirit which possesses some ot the chazacters is traced to archeologists having disturbed the graves of ancient savages. This sets the spirits free to wander -_------20Wells, ;kg Qptline ef Histogy (London: George Wewnes, 1320), chapter nine, pp, 46-52, Wells was cot responsible for all %he illustrations, some of which were supplied by +he publisher, but be presumably exercised editorial conerol over the weekly parts of the work as they were issued. See also Appe~dixA,

21Anthsriy West, "He 6, I;defTsi*,in ~rinc~plgsgig Pezsuasions (London: Eyre arid Spotiswoode, l958), reprinted in Berqonzi (Ed.), czt,, p, 23; +'At the close of hi3 life, from 2' &rzdggt Player onwards, he was trying to recapture the spirit in which he bad written z& Lsland of Ill, goreau, adwhat haunted , him, and aade him exceedingly unhappy, was a tragic sepse that he .had returned to the real source of what could have been his strength too late,lt Authority for the statement is conversation with wells, c, 1937-43, the modern world, wreakir~q psychic P*avoc, inducing in the victims a paranoiac fear and, ir, the worst cases, a tozal. paralysis of actioc. Appropriately ecouyh, oce of the first to

Felisy writings then show an amaivalent relation to the creature he conceives of as essentially human [MMani3f,and thus an ambivalent relation to his self. Orz the one ha?d this Man is full of sin, damced, powerless and the victim of personified forces who care cothing for him; yet on the other hand he is elcc:, immaculate, more powerful than any other creature, the cantrol'2~sof rhose forces and of his own destiny, The romances were, in general, produced aore under the icfluence of the first of these a:titudes, zhe uropias mostly under Che influelce of the second, Christianity taught Wells these two attitudes and he rejected both, neither allowing him any genuine self-respect, as

*'See Wells, Ex, &&_t,, pp. 349-53, "A Questiotl of Conscienceq~, 4ealiag with Wells* coerced confirmation as a cummunicant in the Church of Enqfand; fg[Thej wound to my private honour smarted for a long tine., .I1 [l51), Note here too the passages previously cited on Wellsi two scounter-illuminations' arid this related passage or, p, 126; **I+.seemed to me much more iiaportant. to know whether or no I was immortal than whether or no 1 was to make a satisfactory shop assistant, It might be a terrible thing to be out of a crib on the Thames Emhankmer:: but it would be a far more terrible thing to be out of a crib forever in %e windy spaces of norhinqness,, , f would lie quite still in my be3 invoking the Unkcown to 'Speak now, Give me a sign.*" As this last, indicates the two attitudes &re in Hells closely linked, For this reason there are yzeser,t, in many of the romazces Science, arad a diffuse cotion oi socialism as scientific materialism, revalidated both attitudes, the one as the evslationary past and the otber as a visiori of the future; between these two stools fell the uneasy, uncomfortable, ,and distinctly personal present, The precariousness of Hanss spiritual existence, moving towasds saivatiori but always slipping back towards perdition, was identified with the tenuous prehensile grasp of evolutionary Man o~ civic virtue.

Like hls zeacher, Huxley, Wells believed that violent acd immoral behaviours were to a great extent ianate in human beings. Against these anarchistic tezdeccies both counterposed the necessity of the inculcation of civility, Yore than anything else, Wells took from his mentor Ruxley the notion that civili-y, for Kan, depended upon the assertiofi of will, The universal Mec of bot?. Freud and Hells, though genera%& by quite different personal circumstances, still are located ic the same space, that defined by the intersectiori oi family relations with the ruling (or most powerful) ideulogy of their tintes, Darwinian biology, Preud's Plan was gartly defined in terms of Freudas

"revoltn against his father and in teras of those parts of the world which, to the youcg Signiu~d, it seemed had bee^

------_------_ zz(cocVd) utopian eleme~~ts,dnd in +he utopias there are present--thouqh usually marginalized to the "past"--disharmonious aad destructive elements, cucclusively app~opriatedby Jacob Fre~d.~3Freud's Man seems far more d~le to use reason, to reach a rational equilibrium, but Freud does @ot postulate this achievmerit (matufity) as the recessary or ever: as the most itesireahle human state, dnd ace qet.3 the sense tha?, even if attained, the std%e may only be maintained by a strestuuus effort of the will, Maturity is a possession, sornethinq one may acquire, and this oftep? only in despite of what ow is, Similarly, wells1 Man, though to a great extent a product of his scientific sckooling, was defined ic terms of those aspects of the world's apocalypTic reality which

Sdrah Wefls had appropriated. This she achieved by using the threat of hellfire to discipline youzg Bertie while at the same time, by cocceafing Lrom him its worst features, makicq both the threat and her power to controi it infinitely more credible, But whatever the ultimate sources of Wellsq belief, there is no doubt that in MoreaE, LO less than irs the other roRances, the forces sf destruction and urreason are drawn very powerfuLly, being frequently stronger than even the iron will of the protagonist--in this case Dr. Eoreau himself--and that the forces dvaifable Lo reason are showr to be brittle and easily dispersed,

------233n this sce Carl E, Schorske, 22 ch&, Appendix A: Savage Ancestors in wells

Thc ilhustrations in his Out1ice pi Hist= aver which

Bells did exercise control were :nose dram Ly Frank Horra~in, whoa Wells several, tiines irivited to his house, Easton Gle~e.The

MacKenzies note, qe sit, p. 321, tha: Horrabin, uiflustrator, map-maker and general factotum, spefit several days at a time down at Easton Glebe." Norrabinis illustrations are not so wildly out of style with those supplied by the publisher Newnes, that one may no% speculate Horrabin had a hand in chosing the illustrations, with Wells' approval, frow the publisherqs fifes, and in generally overseeing the visual 4Jlookiqof the parts as each was issued from the press,

Interesting iri kkis connectiori is Cells8 short story, "Tile

Grisly Folkw (StVyy&iler Pllqzize, April 1321, reprinted in

Sel-ectgg Shorr Stories, Pe~guic1358 frow Ernest Benr, 1327). In the 18908s Wells evidently believed that Moaern Ran descended from ''the blood-drinking, hairy savages of the Age of Unpolished

Stone1* (Time Maching, Epilogue). Ey the time he cam to write ------outline in 1919, however, new archeological evidence aade this view untenable, and so i both factual and fic%ionai vezsio~s--acd the first two thousand words of i*Grisly folkw reaqs like a rejected draft fsom chapter nine of ggt&&pg--YefPs cd.sc?fully cotes that there is no hereditary lir,k between modern harrrar,s and the Xeanderthalers, Yet this ocly serves to sharpen thr oppositioc between the two, an3 the tone of both writings ssokes rather than tanks the suspicion of a llrk between the tno

"racesw, Then too, if the "true mezU are the more evolved, did they not of necessity have to pass throuqh a Neanderthal-like stag$? In "~rislyFolk*' the recovezy of the past, in the openinq

F'- of %he tale, was cause for optimism, but by the time wells came to write g~gy_uu& Piaye2 1113361, the happy glow surrounding the publication of Outfine was toZaily dissipated acd the ancestars of Nodern Nan are once again the "cave IdL, the ancestrral ape, the a~cestral brute.. . [whose) resurrected savageries are krcathirn~now and thrusting everywherefs fp- 64) . Yore on S!IC Croqugt Playet will be found in chapter fourteen of the present essay. BibPio graphy

The Siblioyrapby is intended to 5ely the reader: pursue questions which the pain text might raise and is accordingly dividel, for ease cf reference, icto subject areas. With one exception, in each area 1 have followed the usual practice and alphdbezized -he entries. Some of the works listed mighteasiiy fit into 'two (or inore) subject areas, but rather than list them twice, I have, not altogether arbitrarily, assigned such works to t3eir major area. More detailea infcrmation on the particular uses made of works should be sought in the footnotes,

1: f3i3grrphies a@ gelated aztic&g;

Since my assertion of a convergei~cei~ ?he rexus of Freud dnd Veils rests on uiographiral data, and sirice this is the

"pointH to which the essay moves, biographies arid articles of biographical interest form the first subject area, 3'0 avoid multiplying sub-headicqs, I have also included here biographical ma~erialon Darwic, whict data is the subject of a speculazion is chapter three, note eight,

brome, Vincent, gig S~udies &p Quar~eilinq {Locdon: Cresset Press, 1958) . Dickson, Lovat, B, s, Hells: His Turbulent Life and Tiaes [~armondsworthT- Penguin, 3972, from Lssilori: FiacMillan, 1369).

Fzoma, Gloria, l*Through the Novelistfs Lookir-g-Glass3\ &gqyw~ --Review ---- 3 1 (1969) , reprinted in Bernard Bergorizi (Ed*), 2p. 157-77, for vhich see sectio~3 of this Liuliography*

YacKenzie, Norman and 3ea2ne, g, 5, p&&si EjggraPhy fxew fort: Simon and Schuster, 3973; published in iJR as Thg Time ------Traveller, Lofidcc: Wiedenf ield and NichoIsun, 1973) . UK edition has same pagindtior as US.

West, Geoffrey 1 Pzeud, for Geoffry hell's], Hi 5, Wells (New York: W, W. Norton, 1930; published in UK as H. 6. &&LB> 1 -----Sketch ---fur 2 gmiraii, Lordon: 1330), lagination of UK edition different than US,

Wilson, Harris (Ed,), Arnold Benpes jma 8, 5, qg&&~h fif~~d --of 3 Perso~al2nd p Litemy EriendshLp (Uraaca: Univ* of Illinois Press, 1960) . 2: Books ill gpA&s

Between 192Y and 1926 Wells issued a subscribers edition of his writings to ;hat time, ZEI~ Azig~ti Edition 23 g~mgleze -----Works --of g, GI Eeflg (New Yofk: Sczibners), The Atldntic Edition camot really be ~or-sideredas complete, for Wells continued to write for another 5werty years, Ear (so far as the scientific romdnces are concerned) can it be cocsidered definitive, since the historical basis of my argument demands texts fro~i the

183Qts, rather than revised verslocs of those texts fro% the

1920*s, The Editio~is iateresting maizly because of the

Prefaces @ellsplaced in each volume, and the Light these throw dn the romaaces. Wtere this Prefatory statemect is particularly interestirg I have noted the volume cumber the work occupies ic the AtFarizig Edition seguerxc. Others of gel-1s' fdorks which contain in•’ormative oi interesting prefaces are noted thus; t*Preface by Wells". I1 omits 'Introductior' by Prendick's nephew; reprints ixconsistent, some following H,, some EXz.

I-----I I gzt i& Thg putling qf gisgg~,&&~q q Plain History ef ----Life ---acd ------Elankind (Zondor,: George Meunes, l92O), two vols,, rebound from %he weekly parts issued 1313-20. Illustrations differ iu later abridgements and revisions, ----___, !Fhg Scie~tific RomdIice~ of Ii, E, Wells (London: Golfancz, 1933) , Published in ifs by Kxopf as Seve?, Famolls gavels; Preface by Wells,

------, T_hg Time Pachine, in Bfeiler (Ed.) , hePro~hezic ------Science fiction Novels 2;fi fit Gz WclIs (New Ilork: Dover, 1960) . Repriat, of UK (Beinema~c) first edition, together wizh the 1110~t13episode from the National ODsefver zext of the novel, ------, The &gg kg Lhg Aig, ptg particular&~ hp" at DBE~ ------Smallways fared while & Saktfd (London: George Relf, 3908). Includes illustrations from magazine serialization of the novel.

3: jnnjcles by ae:ls

The current major sousce for Wellsg articles of scientific journalism is the collection made by editors Robert , Philmus and David Y, Hughes in their book, j3, G_, gel1.s: Eaxf Y Mritir,~~ --in ------Science ---and ------Science Fiction------{Berkeley: Ur iv, of Cdlifornia Press, 1975), and it is from this book that most of the arsicles f cite are drauc, 1 have accordingly listed the original place and date of publicatior&of each ar'icle, and followed this by noting its p~sitior~i~ Phiimss acd Hughes, 1sY, G,, llEio-OptimisrnH, Nattirg 52 (23 Auy, 18351, pp. 430-11, reprinted in Philmus and Bughes, pp, 206-10, ------, w8uman Evolution, an Artificial ProcessH, i?ora:n&q&t&~ ------Revien n,s. 60 (Oct. l836), pp. 530-35, reprinted in Philaus and Hughes, pp, 211-19, ----_--, *'The Limits of Isdividual Plasticityw, ZqQiagay Review 73 (19 Jan, ?895), pp, 83-30, regrintea in Philaus and Yughes, py. 36-39. ------, "Morals and CPvifizatioriH, i?oz:niqhtly Review, nos. 6 9 (Feb, 18971, pp, 263-68, reprinted in Pk:ilmus and Hughes, pp, 220-28, Sequel to "Human evolution^. ----_--, "The Province of Painu, gc&zsg sad As 8 (Pea, 1894), pp. 58-9, reprinted in Philmus and Hughes, pp. 134-9, ------, flScepticism of the f~strunent~~, 13 (1904f, pp, 373-93. Originally delivered to the Oxford Phifosophical Society as a lecture, 8 Mov, 3903, revised for publication, Developed from @ells article, "The Sediscovesy of the Unique*', Fortnightly Beview r,.s, 50 (July 183 I), pp, 106-1 1, reprinted in Philmus a~dHughes, pp, 22-31,

4: Crit&x& Studies Wells

T5e listinq that. follows is not a coinplete file of all the books and articles on Wells' scientific romances, nor need it be, for ~eaflyall the books listed contain lengthy

bibliographies, In addition, bibliographies will be found in the

biographies by Hest, aEd by N~rmaa, and Jeanne MacKenzie listed in section one of this bibliography. Cdndnell, Christopher [Pseud, for C. St. John Spriggj, S~udies ---acd ------Further ------Studies ig Dyinq Cultace (Ned York and London: Monthly Review Press, 3973). Studies printed fron tne original London 1938 editions; Fuzther Studies separately page3 witkin the one volume.

Razzis, lason, 4fScience Fiction as the Dream and Nightmare 3f Progressw, Wesx Coast IZgZigw, three parts:

part 3; 9-4 (April 1975), pp. 3-3, part 2; jKE 10-1 (June l975), pp. 13-26, part 3; JKa 10-4 (April l976), pp, 3-10.

Lewis, C. S., ##OnScience Fictionu, from Lewisa pustnumous Qf QLheg Worlds, edited zy Balker Hooper for Sarcourt, Brace, Rorld (New Park, 1967), pp, 53-73, dnd reprinted in &irk Pose (EU.) , Scjelace _FLctim: Collec_t,l~r, of Critical Essays {Engfewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall Spectrum 1, l9763, py, 103-15.

Parrinder, Patrick {Ed, f , &, G, well s: 232 Critical kritpqg (London: l.toutl~dgeand Kegax Paul, 1372) . The volume is one of a series of collections of contemporaneous criticisms of authors.

Philmus, Robert d,, Into thg Unknown: z'g Evolutio~ ef Sclence ------Fiction ---from Francis------Godwin &g 1, G, Wells {~erkeiey: Univ. of California Press, 1370) , Includes (slightfy revise~) Philnlus* article from PHLR Mriy 1303, "H, Gw Bellsa Tiae ------Bachine: The Fourth Dimension as Prophecyq1. Saknern, Ingvald, 8, G, -----Wells a33 &Is Critics iOsio: Uaiversitetsforlaget, 1362) .

Wa-gar, id. Warren, Hi 5, MeUs gqd &Ag inTor1d State (Wew Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1961f. 5: gxiticg& Studies _og 2 qescral nature

This sectioc was created mainly to avoid roo qreata anumber of sub-headings, Resides gatherisg ix various works mentioned in the foornotes, it includes works on allegory, and one literary psychoanalytic study,

Frye, Northrop, ------Anatomy qf Cr~ticism(Princezon: Princeton Univ, Press, 1957, 1971). See especially pp, 186-203, "The tlythos of Sumrter: Romancefl.

Lewis, C, S,, 2;s Rfleqory of &gxg (London: oxford IJniv, Press, 3936, 1958)

Rogers, Robert, g~choanaiy~igStudy pf && Double &p ------Litcra+ure (Detroit: Wayne Stdte Uaiv, Press, 1370) , Sontag, Susan, "The Xmaginatioc of DisasterM, in BqainsZ -----In+erpretalion ----- [New York: Farrar, Strrauss and Giroux, 1966), pp. 320 149,

Stoak, David and Bary-Anne, i8Hagiographicaf Style in gills Ca%her8s Death Comes 22~&hg Ipchbishopff, Qq&l, of Tormto

4------Quarterly 41 (t972), pp, 263-87. 6: g%hgs woxks consu1ted: pycholo~ical

There are two major sources for +he works of Freu3--what this section largely consists of--whicii really rasolve into one, 'T&c SypzgqrQ gditign pg Wxlet~pychg1.0qicg& Works ~f giqmu~ll Freud (2Y vuls.), translated and edi%ed by Janes strachey ic coffabofation with Anna Freud and assisted by Rlix

Strachzy and Alan Tyson, published by Hogarth Press and the

Institute of Psycho- Analysis {London, 1353- 1368) , The second

"souscefl is the f~~~g~gtionalF??ychpZAqp&xttc Library, a series of volumes edited by $4. Mdsud 8, Khar:, also issued jointly by

Hoqarth and the Xsstitute, consisting of various of Freud's essays, each separately boucd, The texts of these are (usually] identical to %,rhe only difference teiny in pagination,

Because freilil9s ideas iiitered e1:rougnoat his life I have followed here the practise of zhe Editors of S& and listed his works chronoloqicafly. Each essay is followed. by a notation of the volume of SE: in which it appears,

Freud, Siqmund j 1894) , HNeuro-Psychoses of Defenseu, SE, V, 111, pp. 53-8.

------I,"nn schoolboy ~sychofogy~,, V. XIII, . pp, 233-end, ------_ (1932), New Intfoduc5ory Lecturgs on Psycho-Acalysis, 2,V, XXII, pp, 3-182. Lectures numbered-consecutivefy with those of 1317,

------(1'338), Ayj Outline of gsycho-AnalysCg, fp-5, 35; see also --SE Ye XXIII, 141-207, Jung, Carl Gustav, gacholoqjca& Typs (Princeson: Princeton Univ. Press, 1971, l376), a revision by H, C. F. Bull of the Tra~slation by H, G. Bayces. V, YI of z?g gy&&gczgd Hork~ ------of.. .Ju~q, Prircetun U~iv,Press, do1 lingec Series XX.

Barlow, Nora (Ed.), Darwin gensiuw, &kg Growrh of &q Idea: Zettgz, 1831- l@Q {Berkeley: Uciv. of California Press, 3367) . Sowle, John, ---The fmrfiL &hie~amenx~ ---The ----Bis? grid Transforma tion of the British Emg&rg (London: Secker and -----_.I----&------Warburg, 1974) ,

Burchfield, Joe D,, Lord Kelvin gag &g of t& Earth (Mew, York: Scie~ceHistory Publications, 1375ry York: Oxford rrniv. Press, 2r.4, revised and expanded egition, 1970) . Huxley, T, H., ttEvolutior, dnd EthicsM in V, IX of T!g Collected ----Works of The~asHeRry Buxley (New York: Gseenimod Press, 1368, reprinted from New York: Appletoc, 1302) , This appears to be a facsimile reproduction of the original edition; the essay was first published in 1893, and with the "Profegoae~a~in the foll~wir~gyear,

Zoppen, Georg, Evolu*_ip& grid poetic ~eliefi A Study SOB@ ------Victorian ------@rites5 (Folcroft: Folcroft Press, 13%).