El dia dels trífids (1951)

This is one of those books where one element of the story has entered public consciousness and actually drowned out the actual, well, story of the book. So everyone knows about the triffids, ambulatory plants which can kill by means of a whip-like stinger. Most people who haven’t read the book probably assume the triffids are alien, but the book actually suggests they were created in a Soviet laboratory. I’ve seen a couple of adaptations of the novel, and I had still forgotten that the entire plot, and menace of the triffids, is predicated on a global outbreak of blindness, caused by lights in the night sky (conveniently forgetting that half the planet would not be in darkness), initially blamed on a comet, but later implied it might have a human technological cause. The protagonist is not blinded because he was in hospital with his eyes bandaged, and the story is basically his survival story, along with the other few who were not blinded, and the various factions the sighted people have separated into. And all the while avoiding the triffids. I did at first wonder why the two things – blindness and triffids – when one or the other on their own would have provided sufficient drama. But the triffids are too easy to avoid by sighted people, and blindness alone wasn’t enough to cause human civilisation to collapse in such a short time-frame. The Day of the Triffids is definitely a book of its time – not just the sexism, but the comfortable middle-classness (so much so, one character in the book can “translate” from working-class to middle-class; this is, I hasten to add, British class, not American, and the two are not the same), and the relative ease with which the survivors manage to build sustainable communities. There’s a blink-and-you-miss-it condemnation of fascism, but this novel, like many of Wyndham’s novels, is a pretty good example of a “comfortable catastrophe”. I enjoyed it, but it was a much lighter read than I’d expected, and it’s certainly a well-known historical sf novel… but one for those eager to explore the history of the genre, including those novels some would have you believe are not genre… ( )

Well that was disappointing.

The first chapter was brilliant, ominous and intriguing. After that though, it went rapidly downhill. I was prepared for some sexism given the time of publication. However, I was not prepared for extended philosophical discussions attempting to justify the figurative fucking of the blind and the somewhat more literal of women. The sexism is most evident when one community "rescues" the residents of a local all-girls school for the blind school for their wombs rather than to enlist them as instructors for all the newly blind. Likewise, I didn't particularly enjoy the lengthy section dedicated to a couple of men wandering from bar to bar and enclave to enclave to drink and mansplain how everyone else is doing it wrong.

You may have noticed that I've not mentioned the triffids at all. Yeah, about that, despite the title, they don't really feature until the last 30 pages—which is a shame given that they are by far and away the most interesting part of the book. ( )

I found a rather odd sense of emotional detachment in the main characters of this story, I’m not entirely convinced they would shake off a massive disaster in the way they do, and carry on in quite the way which they seem to manage. The triffids of the title don’t quite live up to the horrors suggested. They were really well described and seemed more real than some of the people. ( )

Excellent social analysis and well paced through most of the book, with an interesting perspective on the post-apocalyptic theme written in the post-WWII climate. ( )

(...)

Whatever Wyndham’s soldier status, there is an amount of carnage & corpses in The Day of the Triffids – although generally subdued, and mainly visible out of the corner of the eye. Death might not be the focus of the book, Wyndham nevertheless manages to evoke its terror, precisely by understating the human costs: Mason digs a grave only once, “a very small one”, for a 4-year old boy.

Not a horror story, and not really about a battle with strange green creatures, what then is the focus of this book? Seminal science fiction influencer David Pringle missed the mark big time, when he wrote “it would be a mistake to stress the ‘moral’ in what is first and foremost an exciting escapist romp.”

Yes, it is an exciting adventure story, but it is only so successful because Wyndham grounds it in convincing moral choices and nuanced emotions. Bill Mason encounters very different reactions to what’s happening, including those of himself, and it is this social kaleidoscope that keeps the book relevant today.

(...)

Full review on Weighing A Pig ( )