About Me

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I write and live with my beautiful wife, Sandra, and sons (Solstice, Finnegan and Brahms) in a little-big house on a dirt road in a valley in the hills. My secret identity struggles through the grind of teaching high school English to the denizens of Vermont's Northeast Kingdom.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Review of The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells

I confess, I have been a speculative fan since I was a little boy, and I only found time to read the granddaddy of all science-fiction novels until I was thirty-seven years old. I am glad I did. This work of genius is in an exclusive category in my mind of novels that have marked me and my imagination for all time. The mixture of apocalyptic images, frightening first encounters, and genteel, suburban, Late Victorian London, is a real treat. Time has not dulled the horrors as well as the truly appropriate exploration of human beings under real threat. The allegories set up by the endearingly reasonable narrator with the mad curate, the artillerymen and his own tortured soul will haunt me as a mirror of my own experience in this mad world.

I hope, if you haven't yet had the chance, you'll download a copy of this public domain work and get ready to receive some chills, journeying back to a more innocent time, so that you can truly understand the power of this work that has inspired so much of our own popular culture.

Take care


Keep watching the skies!

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