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randy_byersOn January 9, 1898 the Boston Post newspaper began serializing a novel called Fighters from Mars -- or The Terrible War of the Worlds as it Was Waged in or Near Boston in the Year 1900. This was an apparently pirated version of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds, which had months earlier been legitimately serialized in the US in the magazine Cosmopolitan. As the title of the pirate edition suggests, the action of Wells' novel had been transposed from London to Boston (as Orson Welles later transposed it to New Jersey), but to crown the transgression, on February 6, 1898 the Boston Post began to serialize an unofficial and unauthorized "sequel" to this version of War of the Worlds called Edison's Conquest of Mars "written in collaboration with Edison by Garrett P. Serviss, the well known astronomical writer." In this sequel, the great nations of the world (led by the US, of course) set aside their political differences, pool their resources, build a fleet of antigravity spaceships armed with disintegrator rays designed by the American inventor Thomas Edison, and, led by Edison himself, head to Mars to exact revenge for the invasion in the earlier novel.
Edison's Conquest of Mars has had a strange publication history. It's first book publication didn't come until a limited edition of a "significantly edited" version in 1947, almost a full fifty years after the newspaper serialization. Perhaps this is also the "abridged version" that appeared in The Treasury of Science Fiction Classics in 1954, which seems to be the next publication (and the form in which several SF fans I've talked to first read it). In 1969, Forrest Ackerman published his own heavily edited "good parts" version in a paperback with the title Invasion of Mars. I suppose it's only fitting that an unauthorized sequel to a pirated transposition of somebody else's book should have such a butchered publication history, but nonetheless we are now, courtesy of the print-on-demand publisher Apogee Books, able to read the original version of the novel as published in the Boston Post, accompanied by the original newspaper illustrations as well.
It turns out it's a really fun book. The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction (2nd ed.) calls this an "edisonade," which is a subgenre that seems to derive its name from the title of this book, although there were apparently other science fiction books featuring Edison the Great Inventor as a hero. But what struck me about the novel was how modern it seemed -- or at least how Campbellian. Serviss was, in fact, a well-known astronomer, and he's fascinated by science and technology. The completely fabricated spacedrive and disintegrator rays are explained in loving faux-scientific detail, and he also delights in giving realistic (if still speculative) descriptions of the effects of low gravity (on a visit to the moon and then to an asteroid) and of the difference in how light would look in a vacuum as opposed to in an atmosphere. The introduction to this edition, by Robert Godwin, says the novel's descriptions of a realistic spacesuit and of a space battle are both firsts in the history of the genre.
It's too long since I've read anything by Verne, and maybe that's where this interest in scientific exposition comes from. It's probably unfair to call it Campbellian, because by the time Campbell was writing and editing, there was less stopping to give exposition about whatever gadget had been invented in the story and more attempt to integrate the exposition into the flow of the story. But it certainly isn't Wellsian, and in fact little has been retained from the Wells novel except the idea that Martians invaded Earth and laid waste to much of it. The Martians themselves are very different from Wells' description, being essentially very tall humanoids (taller than humans because of the lower gravity on Mars). While the Earthmen consider the Martians superior in intellect and civilization, there isn't much evidence of it in the story. You might say it's more a view of Americans looking across the ocean at Europe and seeing a power that could once burn the capitol but is no longer quite so overwhelming. Certainly there's nothing of Wells' sense of "intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic".
Edison isn't the only living scientist/engineer to accompany the expedition to Mars. Lord Kelvin is also onboard, and "the celebrated English electrical expert" Professor Sylvanus P. Thompson, along with Lord Rayleigh, Professor Roentgen, and Dr. Mossian, "the man who first made artificial diamonds." In a small sub-chapter titled "As the Great Napoleon Did," Serviss tells us that "On the model of the celebrated corps of literary and scientific men which Napoleon carried with him in his invasion of Egypt, Mr. Edison selected a company of the foremost astronomers, archaeologists, anthropologists, botanists, bacteriologists, chemists, physicists, mathemeticians, mechanics, metereologists, and experts in mining, metallurgy, and every other branch of practical science, as well as artists and photographers." And these scientists come forward to solve problems and conduct experiments along the way, leading to delightfully absurd scenes such as the one where a spacesuited Lord Kelvin leaps from the surface of an asteroid in order to test his theories about the type of orbit that will result.
But aside from this boyish popular mechanics kind of geeky playfulness, there is also a weirder strain of imagination running through the book that seems to foretell science fiction's continuing skeezy romance with UFOs, ancient astronauts, and Fortean phenomena. This is a bit of a SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SO YOU MAY WANT TO SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH, but once the Earthmen get to Mars they discover a human woman there. Using the latest linguistic theories, they determine that she is the descendant of Aryans taken from the Kashmir region thousands of years ago and enslaved on Mars. Once they have deciphered her language, she is able to tell them that indeed the Martians had invaded Earth once before and -- wait for it -- built the pyramids and left a statue of their emperor in the form of the Sphinx!
It must be said that this novel doesn't provide much in the way of literary pleasure. Serviss is nowhere near as good a writer as Wells, and his attempts to create pathos and romantic interest, or even dramatic or merely narrative tension, are not particularly effective. It must also be said that there is an element of American jingoism and racial (and sexual) stereotype to deal with. But from a certain angle even these things are historically fascinating, and the view of the global politics of the era is quite revealing. Let's just say that Kaiser Wilhelm doesn't come off too well, and you can already feel WWI brewing. But the Kaiser isn't the only real head of state to appear in the story either, and the appearance of US President McKinley bears a certain frisson of irony in the context of American expansionism as advocated (or at least assumed) here.
I actually expected it to be far more a triumphalist exercise than it is -- which isn't to say that it's lacking in triumphalism. It is a power fantasy about inventing miraculous devices and turning the tides on a superior foe. But it isn't without losses and defeats and the real threat of catastrophic failure along the way, and perhaps more importantly, it isn't without a delight in the wonders and mysteries of the cosmos that are discovered in the process of pursuing bloody-minded vengeance. The dead cities of the moon, the asteroid made of gold (and the Martian space pirates trying to steal it!), the pleasure of weighing only five ounces and of throwing rocks into orbit, the towering trees of Mars and its vast plantations fed by a network of irrigation canals, a forty-foot humanoid woman from Ceres caught in a Martian flood -- all are reason for the scientist heroes (and journalist narrator) to stop and examine and wonder and expound. In the end, much as it has always been in the American imagination of itself, vengeance is taken more in sorrow than in anger, and there is genuine, if hamfisted, pathos when the eponymous conquest is consummated.
So I highly recommend Apogee's edition of Edison's Conquest of Mars (although I can't say much for the book design, and there are a number of typos as well). I don't know how many people there are out there that would read this book for pleasure, but if you're at all interested in the history and evolution of science fiction, there is certainly great pleasure to be found in it. I liked it so much, in fact, that I've also picked up Apogee's edition of Serviss' A Columbus of Space (1911), which is about a trip to Venus. But next up is the University of Nebraska edition of Edwin L. Arnold's Gullivar of Mars (1905), which looks to be another entertaining example of turn-of-the-previous-century SF.
Edison's Conquest of Mars has had a strange publication history. It's first book publication didn't come until a limited edition of a "significantly edited" version in 1947, almost a full fifty years after the newspaper serialization. Perhaps this is also the "abridged version" that appeared in The Treasury of Science Fiction Classics in 1954, which seems to be the next publication (and the form in which several SF fans I've talked to first read it). In 1969, Forrest Ackerman published his own heavily edited "good parts" version in a paperback with the title Invasion of Mars. I suppose it's only fitting that an unauthorized sequel to a pirated transposition of somebody else's book should have such a butchered publication history, but nonetheless we are now, courtesy of the print-on-demand publisher Apogee Books, able to read the original version of the novel as published in the Boston Post, accompanied by the original newspaper illustrations as well.
It turns out it's a really fun book. The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction (2nd ed.) calls this an "edisonade," which is a subgenre that seems to derive its name from the title of this book, although there were apparently other science fiction books featuring Edison the Great Inventor as a hero. But what struck me about the novel was how modern it seemed -- or at least how Campbellian. Serviss was, in fact, a well-known astronomer, and he's fascinated by science and technology. The completely fabricated spacedrive and disintegrator rays are explained in loving faux-scientific detail, and he also delights in giving realistic (if still speculative) descriptions of the effects of low gravity (on a visit to the moon and then to an asteroid) and of the difference in how light would look in a vacuum as opposed to in an atmosphere. The introduction to this edition, by Robert Godwin, says the novel's descriptions of a realistic spacesuit and of a space battle are both firsts in the history of the genre.
It's too long since I've read anything by Verne, and maybe that's where this interest in scientific exposition comes from. It's probably unfair to call it Campbellian, because by the time Campbell was writing and editing, there was less stopping to give exposition about whatever gadget had been invented in the story and more attempt to integrate the exposition into the flow of the story. But it certainly isn't Wellsian, and in fact little has been retained from the Wells novel except the idea that Martians invaded Earth and laid waste to much of it. The Martians themselves are very different from Wells' description, being essentially very tall humanoids (taller than humans because of the lower gravity on Mars). While the Earthmen consider the Martians superior in intellect and civilization, there isn't much evidence of it in the story. You might say it's more a view of Americans looking across the ocean at Europe and seeing a power that could once burn the capitol but is no longer quite so overwhelming. Certainly there's nothing of Wells' sense of "intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic".
Edison isn't the only living scientist/engineer to accompany the expedition to Mars. Lord Kelvin is also onboard, and "the celebrated English electrical expert" Professor Sylvanus P. Thompson, along with Lord Rayleigh, Professor Roentgen, and Dr. Mossian, "the man who first made artificial diamonds." In a small sub-chapter titled "As the Great Napoleon Did," Serviss tells us that "On the model of the celebrated corps of literary and scientific men which Napoleon carried with him in his invasion of Egypt, Mr. Edison selected a company of the foremost astronomers, archaeologists, anthropologists, botanists, bacteriologists, chemists, physicists, mathemeticians, mechanics, metereologists, and experts in mining, metallurgy, and every other branch of practical science, as well as artists and photographers." And these scientists come forward to solve problems and conduct experiments along the way, leading to delightfully absurd scenes such as the one where a spacesuited Lord Kelvin leaps from the surface of an asteroid in order to test his theories about the type of orbit that will result.
But aside from this boyish popular mechanics kind of geeky playfulness, there is also a weirder strain of imagination running through the book that seems to foretell science fiction's continuing skeezy romance with UFOs, ancient astronauts, and Fortean phenomena. This is a bit of a SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SO YOU MAY WANT TO SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH, but once the Earthmen get to Mars they discover a human woman there. Using the latest linguistic theories, they determine that she is the descendant of Aryans taken from the Kashmir region thousands of years ago and enslaved on Mars. Once they have deciphered her language, she is able to tell them that indeed the Martians had invaded Earth once before and -- wait for it -- built the pyramids and left a statue of their emperor in the form of the Sphinx!
It must be said that this novel doesn't provide much in the way of literary pleasure. Serviss is nowhere near as good a writer as Wells, and his attempts to create pathos and romantic interest, or even dramatic or merely narrative tension, are not particularly effective. It must also be said that there is an element of American jingoism and racial (and sexual) stereotype to deal with. But from a certain angle even these things are historically fascinating, and the view of the global politics of the era is quite revealing. Let's just say that Kaiser Wilhelm doesn't come off too well, and you can already feel WWI brewing. But the Kaiser isn't the only real head of state to appear in the story either, and the appearance of US President McKinley bears a certain frisson of irony in the context of American expansionism as advocated (or at least assumed) here.
I actually expected it to be far more a triumphalist exercise than it is -- which isn't to say that it's lacking in triumphalism. It is a power fantasy about inventing miraculous devices and turning the tides on a superior foe. But it isn't without losses and defeats and the real threat of catastrophic failure along the way, and perhaps more importantly, it isn't without a delight in the wonders and mysteries of the cosmos that are discovered in the process of pursuing bloody-minded vengeance. The dead cities of the moon, the asteroid made of gold (and the Martian space pirates trying to steal it!), the pleasure of weighing only five ounces and of throwing rocks into orbit, the towering trees of Mars and its vast plantations fed by a network of irrigation canals, a forty-foot humanoid woman from Ceres caught in a Martian flood -- all are reason for the scientist heroes (and journalist narrator) to stop and examine and wonder and expound. In the end, much as it has always been in the American imagination of itself, vengeance is taken more in sorrow than in anger, and there is genuine, if hamfisted, pathos when the eponymous conquest is consummated.
So I highly recommend Apogee's edition of Edison's Conquest of Mars (although I can't say much for the book design, and there are a number of typos as well). I don't know how many people there are out there that would read this book for pleasure, but if you're at all interested in the history and evolution of science fiction, there is certainly great pleasure to be found in it. I liked it so much, in fact, that I've also picked up Apogee's edition of Serviss' A Columbus of Space (1911), which is about a trip to Venus. But next up is the University of Nebraska edition of Edwin L. Arnold's Gullivar of Mars (1905), which looks to be another entertaining example of turn-of-the-previous-century SF.
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no subject
Date: 2006-09-23 10:25 pm (UTC)More spoilers
Date: 2006-09-23 11:41 pm (UTC)Well, there's a hand-waving attempt to keep it consistent, quoting the descendant woman on Mars: "At length, our traditions say, a great pestilence broke out in the Land of Sand, and a partial vengeance was granted to us in the destruction of the larger number of our enemies. At last the giants who remained, fleeing before this scourge of the gods, used the mysterious means at their command, and, carrying our ancestors with them, returned to their own world, in which we have ever since lived."
However, you'd think the Martians would have learned from this earlier experience to protect themselves in some way from the microbes of Earth. I can't remember if Serviss addresses this failure to learn from past experience.
But it seems I read somewhere (I don't remember from my own reading) that Wells says the Martians came to Earth in search of water. In Serviss' book, Mars has a lot of water, and it plays a part in the conquest of the planet.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-24 01:24 am (UTC)I think it's quit unfair to call it Campbellian given Campbell is usually credited as the editor who insisted on giving fiction prominence over science. I would descibe the Serviss book instead as Gernsbackian given it has been claimed that Gernsback approved of the fiction he published being peppered with lectures. And indeed I'm pretty sure he published some fiction by Serviss in his magazines.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-24 02:24 am (UTC)Likewise you're right about literary replies. Another good (though strangely subdued) take-off on Wells is Chrisopher Priest's The Space Machine, which is a sequel to two of Wells' famous scientific romances.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-26 12:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-26 01:04 am (UTC)(Sorry about posting this previously while logged out.)