Welcome to a planet size Zoo!
I have good news and bad news!
The good news is that we are not alone in the Universe. There is intelligent Life out there, and the aliens have decided they want to contact us here on our tiny planet.
The bad news is that same aliens have a very poor opinion of humanity, are derisive of our claims to be an intelligent species (what’s with all these wars, nuclear bombs and extinction events?) and they treat us way worse than we treat other inferior species that we put in cages for our entertainment.
We are the inmates and not the tourists in this Zoo!
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The Martians have come, not in a single flying saucer or with advanced teams of scientists to prepare the ground, but all at once in a horde of a billion or so little green, bald, angry men. About one for every three humans living on Earth in 1964. They’re everywhere, popping in and out of existence [they call this ‘kwimming’], speaking fluently every language known to Man, curious about everything we do, in particular about our love life and our military secrets. Oh, and they are definitely not shy about sharing their opinions about Earth and about humans.
... one and all they were abusive, aggravating, annoying, brash, brutal, cantankerous, caustic, churlish, detestable, discourteous, execrable, fiendish, flippant, fresh, galling, hateful, hostile, ill-tempered, insolent, impudent, jabbering, jeering, knavish killjoys. They were leering, loathsome, malevolent, malignant, nasty, nauseating, objectionable, peevish, perverse, quarrelsome, rude, sarcastic, splenetic, treacherous, truculent, uncivil, ungracious, waspish, xenophobic, yapping, and zealous in making themselves obnoxious to and in making trouble for everyone with whom they came in contact.
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This is a classic alien invasion novel, modelled on H G Wells and presented in Pulp Magazine fashion [fast and entertaining]. Fredric Brown delights in sabotaging the genre expectations of heroic earthlings fighting against devious invaders while holding on to a damzel in scant, ripped clothing. His tongue is firmly placed in his cheek right from the start, but there is something solid, something sharp and observant behind the comedy. Brown is not satisfied with milking the premise for laughs, he goes for the social satire: maybe we have invited such abusive behaviour from the Martians with the way we have been treating each other and the planet lately. Maybe a society that collapses so easily under the onslaught of denial of privacy was built on rotten principles to start with.
What could the little green goblins want with us? To help us overcome our own idiocy? Or to try to stop us from exporting it to the stars?
Since they are not stopping down to explaining their motives to us, bumbling unevolved monkeys, how can we convince them we are smart? How can we make them go away?
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I really like the way Fredric Brown presents his ideas, here and in the few other novels and stories by him that I read. Trained in the pulps, he never loses sight of the need to tell an engaging story, and he never fills the page with unnecessary bloat. And he has a mean and dirty sense of humour.
I don’t think he gets enough credit for helping transition science-fiction from cheap entertainment to ‘serious’ literature. Probably because he is overshadowed by the big guns that came to fame soon after him (Asimov, Clarke, Heinlein), even as the same big guns pay homage to him in their introductions to more famous novels. Heinlein in particular dedicates ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ to Brown, and when you stop and think about it, there is a connection there: from the ‘kwimming’ of Brown to the ‘grokking’ of Heinlein. Both novels look at our planet through the eyes of visiting Martians, either in derision or with a Messiah complex.
Science itself is not thrown overboard in this light novel, even as the main attraction remains the satire and the unexpected consequences of having a permanent green ‘internet troll’ do a running commentary on your sorry excuse for a life [including your bedroom sports].
Could they not be two-dimensional beings whose appearance of having a third dimension was an illusory effect of their existence in a three-dimensional universe? Shadow figures on a movie screen appear to be three-dimensional until you try to grab one by the arm.
Or perhaps they were projections into a three-dimensional universe of four- or five-dimensional beings whose intangibility was due to their having more dimensions than we could see and understand.
Most of the actual science is purely speculative, or pays once again homage to the Pulp Era [we might need a bigger anti-extraterrestrial subatomic supervibrator ]
For myself, most of the fun came not so much from the satirical look at society but from the metafiction angle that holds the novel together. Luke Devereaux is the first human to see a Martian, in his lonesome cabin somewhere in the Nevada desert, where he is struggling with writer’s block and while his editor is demanding the promised science-fiction adventure for the advanced money he already paid. We follow Luke as he tries to hold on to his sanity while the world around him collapses into a deep recession. This is a losing battle that apparently the Martians consider highly entertaining.
Is this whole Martian invasion simply the product of the alcohol-pickled and anxiety-tortured mind of a cheap writer?
Read to find out!