I'm reading War of the Worlds because I've read it before. Not in a re-read-it-to-get-out-of-independent-reading sense, but a I-read-this-before-but-now-I-actually-understand-everything sense. When I last read it, I read for the story--aliens invade Earth, humans fight back. This time, I want to read for meaning: the book is filled with allegories and metaphors. The story is enthralling, but the underlying themes--brilliantly elaborated on in an introduction by Orson Scott Card, the author of Ender's Game--make it an essential read.
The first few chapters describe the observing of a mysterious cylinder that makes its way to Earth, seemingly from Mars. Of interest is not just the cylinder, but of the reaction of people on Earth. The news does not make widespread attention until the cylinder actually lands, and most people simply rationalize the mysterious astronomic happenings as natural occurrences on Mars. If ignorance is bliss, then the mild inhabitants of the London suburbs act like the Lotus-eaters of The Odyssey. Even when the cylinder lands, it is treated as a curiosity, a thing to be oohed and aahed at, not something that could possibly contain intelligent life. The parallels to European colonialism are clear: this is the moment right before the Spanish start slaughtering the Aztecs. More next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment