By Thomas F. Bertonneau
In his monumental Experiment in Autobiography (1934),
the English novelist and public intellectual Herbert George Wells (1866 – 1946)
claims to understand the German dictator Adolf Hitler intuitively. The
discussion will shortly come to that – but first some background.
Writing of his “mid schoolboy stage” at Thomas
Morley’s school in 1878 and 79, and trying to reconstruct his thirteen-year-old
worldview, Wells recalls, along with much else, his adolescent fondness for
indulging in compensatory military fantasies rooted in a rebellious but
invariably thwartedlibido dominandi. “The flavor of J. R. Green’s
recently published (1874) History of the English people had
drifted to me either directly or at second hand,” as the autobiographer writes,
“and my mind had leapt all too readily to the idea that I was a blond and
blue-eyed Nordic, quite the best make of human being known.” Wells remarks
that, “England was consciously Teutonic in those days, [and] the monarchy and
Thomas Carlyle were strong influences in that direction.” Discussion of Britain
as a romantic “Keltic Fringe” hung in the air, as Wells writes; “and the defeat
of France in 1870-71 seemed to be the final defeat of the decadent Latin
peoples.” The convictions that, “We English, by sheer native superiority,
practically without trying, had possessed ourselves of an Empire on which the
sun never set” and that, “the errors and infirmities of other races” were
compelling Britain towards “world dominion” fastened themselves unquestionably
in young Georgie’s mind. The adult Wells would put it this way: “All that was
settled in my head,” such that the array of associated notions informed the
lad’s “active imagination.”
The smallish and high-voiced Georgie, “an
undernourished boy, meanly clad,” as Wells confesses, “liked especially to
dream that [he] was a great military dictator like Cromwell, a great republican
like George Washington or like Napoleon in his earlier phases”; and he “used to
fight battles whenever [he] went for a walk alone” in the vicinity of Bromley,
in Kent.
No one suspected that a phantom staff pranced about me
and phantom orderlies galloped at my commands, to shift the guns and
concentrate fire on those houses below, to launch the final attack upon yonder
distant ridge. The citizens of Bromley town go out to take the air on Martin’s
Hill and look towards Shortland across the fields where once meandered the now
dried-up and vanished Ravensbourne, with never a suspicion of the orgies of
bloodshed I once conducted there.
Wells fondly remembers how he “entered, conquered, or
rescued, towns riding at the head of [his] troops, with [his] cousins and
schoolfellows recognizing [him] with surprise from the windows.” Crowned heads
and elected leaders would converge on his triumph to offer congratulations.
“With inveterate enemies, monarchists, Roman Catholics, non-Aryans and the
like,” Wells adds, “I was grimly just.” It is in recalling the racial theme
that Wells likens himself as he was in those days to the Leader of National
Socialism: “I had ideas about Aryans extraordinarily like Mr. Hitler’s.” Those
ideas would have included the picture of “the Great Aryan People going to and
fro in the middle plains of Europe… varying their consonants according to
Grimm’s Law… and driving inferior breeds into the mountains,” as well as the
thesis that the Aryan accomplishment consummated itself everywhere when it
“squared accounts with the Jews.” Yet as Wells says in distinguishing himself,
“Unlike Hitler I had no feelings about the contemporary Jew.” So it is in
Wells’ attestation, that, “the more I hear of Hitler the more I am convinced
that his mind is almost the twin of my thirteen year old mind in 1879; but
heard through a megaphone and – implemented.”