Philip Wylie and Edwin Balmer’s 1932 science fiction novel “When Worlds Collide” left its handful of survivors from Earth on a new planet, just waiting to be exploited colonized. It was inevitable that a sequel would follow. “After Worlds Collide” was published in 1934, originally appearing as a six-part serial in Blue Book magazine.
The first book was an exciting adventure fantasy that was, considering the time it was written, fairly decent in its attempt at scientific verisimilitude. It was, in fact, a fairly believable “what if” scenario of a rogue planet on a collision course toward Earth and what would result from such an event, both in terms of the scientific effects (tidal waves, drastic climate changes, earthquakes, volcanoes, etc.) and the socio-political effects (economic collapse, mass panic, riots, religious revivals, etc.).
Certainly, elements of the book were disturbing. The fact that all of the survivors (with one notable exception) were white, Caucasian, and hand-picked based on intelligence and scientific knowledge is, of course, at the very least, awkward by today’s standards and, at the most, racist.
It would, perhaps, be accurate to call the sequel even more “racist”, although it may also be somewhat unfair.
The plot of “After Worlds Collide” deals with the problems humanity would face on an Earth-like world, given a small (several hundred) group of humans set on repopulating their species. Added to this situation is the fact that an extinct ancient alien civilization once existed on the planet, leaving fully intact cities and technologies that are far beyond the comprehension of human knowledge. They were, however, evidently left behind for subsequent alien species, like humans, to use for their own benefit, assuming they were smart enough to figure out how to use them.
Conflict arises when it is discovered that, prior to the destruction of Earth, another space ship---comprised of an international mix of German, Japanese, and Russian communists---landed ahead of the American space ship and has set up a communist paradise. These commie bastards are, of course, bent on planetary domination, and the existence of the American colonists puts a serious crimp in their plans. So, of course, war.
Contemporary critics who cry foul about the nationalistic, anti-communistic rhetoric within the novel are completely justified in their complaints. The nationalistic jingoism is, even by today’s standards, pretty ridiculous, although readers need to remind themselves that the book was published during a time of ridiculous nationalistic extremism in European countries as well as the United States. It was only a short seven years before the U.S. would join the fighting during World War II.
The anti-communism in the novel is interesting, considering the popularity of communism during the 1930s. Stalin’s Russia would, during the war, become close allies with the U.S., but news of atrocities committed by the Stalinist regime were gradually coming to light at the time of the novel’s publication. Nearly two decades later, of course, the United States would be in the throes of a virulent anti-communist foreign policy, one which continues even today.
Tied into the anti-communist rhetoric of the novel, however, is a simplistic black-white worldview which lumps the socialist-communist foreigners into one big Axis of Evil, a nationalistic tendency that the U.S. has yet to discard. To many contemporary critics, of course, this has the appearance of racism, and, in some cases, it probably is. Not always, though, and while the purveyors of political correctness may take umbrage against this point, it is important to make a distinction between nationalism and racism.
The book’s only “friendly” non-white is a Japanese character named Kyto, who is, at the start of the first book, a servant of the book’s main protagonist, Tony Drake. In the second book, it is discovered that Kyto was a Japanese spy all along, but he has had a crisis of conscience: he enjoys the carefree life of leisure that Americans possess, and he no longer wants to destroy it. Granted, the rogue planet succeeded in doing that anyway, so he really had nothing to lose by admitting this. Then again, he also had nothing to gain, since his own country was also destroyed.
Kyto’s portrayal is, in my opinion, less a racist caricature than it is a nationalistic one. His Japanese-ness, for lack of a better word, is both his downfall and saving grace. Kyto is, by nature of his race, the Other within the novel. He is permanently set apart because of his race, but he is never looked down upon because of it. On the contrary, the American survivors love him because he is seemingly loyal and devoted to his master, Tony.
When it is discovered that Kyto was a spy, albeit an apologetic one, the reaction is quite unexpected. There is no question of Kyto’s disloyalty. He is forgiven, as he has proven himself to be a man of virtue. In this case, virtue or vice is not a condition of his race. In other words, Kyto’s being Japanese is not inherently inferior. His former allegiance to an evil government, however, is. That Kyto rebukes his former existence as a spy is what saves him. His Asiatic race is irrelevant.
Of course, it would have been interesting to see what would have happened if a black character was introduced to the story. Unfortunately, an obvious lack of any black characters in the story is telling in itself. Especially considering that the survivors are hand-picked based on intelligence.
To be fair, the authors do, at one point, bring up the unfairness of the selection process. It is interesting to note that one character, a woman named Marian, stows away on the space ship. She is humorously branded a “moron” several times in the book, due to her inferior intelligence. (To a contemporary reader, this may seem pretty funny, but “moron” was actually a scientific term for a person of sub-par intelligence, in the same way that “idiot savant” and “mentally retarded” have been used to describe persons of lower-IQ.) Ironically, Marian manages to do something extremely heroic in the end. Score one for the moron!
I’m still not convinced that Wylie and Balmer were complete racists. Partial racists, maybe, but their views were probably no different than a vast majority of the American reading public at the time.
One thing that struck me, though, in the book as a defense of Wylie/Balmer’s subtle social consciousness is the reference to the ancient alien civilization. If speciesism is an extended form of racism, then Wylie/Balmer exhibited a pretty advanced anti-speciesist argument in creating a technologically superior ancient race of beings that foresaw their own extinction and took steps to leave their mark not in any selfish “We were here” display of grandeur but as a way to assist and prolong the lives of any other race of beings that were to follow them. That’s actually pretty impressive, if you think about it.