I'm never going into a garden again and if you think I'll look at any future eclipses or other astronomical events, you've got another thing coming!
As you might be able to guess, I've just finished John Wyndham's 'The Day of the Triffids', probably the best known of this British author's novels.
'The Day of the Triffids' is a story of human survival in the midst of a terrifying worldwide apocalypse. Bill Mason wakes in a London hospital, his eyes bandaged following eye treatment. Confused and frightened by the lack of normal noise either in the hospital or outside his window, he cautiously removes the dressings and finds himself in the middle of a living nightmare. A 'meteorite' storm the previous night has blinded most of the world's population and, as he travels through London in shock, Bill finds that life as he knew it has gone for good. As he begins to encounter other survivors, he realises that the catastrophe has often brought out the worst in people. As the remaining population begins to find ways to group and cope with the new circumstances, a new, terrible threat emerges - the determined, devious and deadly Triffids...
Now, first things first. There was one part of this book that made me very, very irritated. One group of intellectualised survivors band together at a London university. One of the earliest things they do is call a meeting at which an eminent Sociologist talks about the future of society and how it will be necessary to leave elements of the old moral framework, behind for practical reasons. Fair enough. But why is sex their main priority when they haven't even found a safe way out of London yet? London, which is already littered with suicides and brutal gangs and already a breeding ground for disease? And when they only have one, shy nurse to provide pre- and postnatal care?!
I can only assume that when this book was written in the 1950s, talking about sanctioned sexual promiscuity was terribly, terribly shocking in a way it simply isn't today. Then it would sort of make sense. But to my modern (female) eyes, it just seemed like putting the cart before the horse. No point in having babies if you can't feed them or keep them safe, even if you are trying to save mankind.
On the whole though, this book is a real page turner, a brilliant combination of horror, socio-political comment and old fashioned adventure. It did get a bit preachy in places, particularly when an idealistic but impulsive character called Coker comes on the scene, but I think I understood most of the comparisons the author was drawing with different political ideologies.
I know I shouldn't be, but it still surprises me how relevant the science fiction of the last century still is. 'The Day of the Triffids' could be read as socio-political comment, environmental parable or analysis of how we might cope with extreme disaster. As a result, it's incredibly interesting as well as entertaining.
And, of course, you have a fantastic villain: The Triffids. Human beings may have had a hand in creating their predicament, but the constant and escalating onslaughts by the seven foot tall, alien-looking plants really is a danger all its own. They're clever, they're everywhere and they're topped with lightening-quick stings which can kill a man several feet away. As I say, Prince Charming can do the gardening from now on!
'The Day of the Triffids' begins with probably one of the most famous opening lines ever. Striking the reader like a slap across the face from the start, the book doesn't let up at any point. Before you know it, you've turned the last page... And you're wondering whether that rustling really is just the breeze through the trees. Shudder!
