Babes in the Darkling Wood

ByH. G. Wells
AN interminable conversation piece by English people, young and old, who wish — and why not? — to remake the world and mould it to their heart’s desire. Actually they are mouthpieces for Mr. Wells, who broadcasts his ideas on life on this planet through these human microphones. For one who thrilled in his time to Tono Bungay and The New Machiavelli, this last work has a somewhat depressing effect. It is talk, talk, talk, and no dishes washed. One cannot blame Mr. Wells or his stooges for being puzzled by life as it is, but the expression of their bewilderment in this long tract is tedious and — as a novel — ineffective.